"There weren't never no time wasted. D'rectly they wos cool enuff to boil a lump er ice, in them pore sweat-rags 'ad to go, creepin' an' crawlin' on dunnage wood so as their feet shouldn't catch fire; then presently out they'd come, legs first, cooked to a turn an' 'most senseless. An' the way she wasted steam through 'er numerous cracks an' chinks would 'ave made the bloomin' Chancellor o' the Excheq'r go muzzy.
"That were 'er on'y defec', though; otherwise she wos a' appy ship. Full er talent, too. Gunnery very fair, footer team first chop, the dramy a bloomin' constellation o' stars o' the first magnitude, finest squee-jee band in the Pacific, whilst our Jimmy Bungs[14] was er artist on the cinder-track. Wot more d'you want? But I guess my jaw-tackle's workin' too free. Give that cocoa-juice a fair wind, will ye, sonny," and he pointed to the pile of cocoanuts amidships.
"Do you-alls reckon that this war-canoe o' yours is browsin' around anyways handy hereabouts?" inquired Broncho.
"She was diggin' out for a bit er cannibalisin' through the Line Islands when I took my fancy dive."
"Then I surmise that we can diskyard the war-canoe from our hand as bein' wo'thless."
"I don't think we are likely to get picked up," said Jack, from the bottom of the boat. "The Paumotus are far from being popular with Island traders, and we are much too far to the west for any of the Cape Horners."
"That's so," admitted the bosun's mate. "We came through the Paumotus in the old Dido, an' did some fancy navigatin' at that, scrapin' our weeds off on coral reefs, an' jammin' through tide-rip channels with the wind jumpin' all round the compass. I went all cold up my back more'n once, muckin' through them bloomin' reefs."
"Ain't we goin' to stop at any of the islands on the way?" asked Jim anxiously.
"Not if we can help it," replied the rover. "I had a bit of trouble in the Low Archipelago once, and haven't forgotten it. You remember, Lolie, in the old Moonbeam?"
"Yes," muttered the woman, and shivered.