That such a life is not universally pleasing to the youngsters themselves, is witnessed by the fact that a short time ago one of them ran away to the jungle, where he remained, and was able to support himself, until caught and brought back after a three months' disappearance.
He was a mischievous-looking boy, who found it hard to refrain from grinning while his portrait was being taken, for I secured his likeness as affording a marked example of the features of prognathism and epicanthus as occurring among the Nicobarese.
We found the services of these boys most welcome on several occasions. Frequently the surf in the bay was sufficient to promise at the least a thorough wetting when leaving shore for the schooner in our own boat. It was, as a rule, simple enough to land, but the reverse proceeding was a less simple matter. In such a case, we used one of the native canoes and a crew of mission lads.
After loading the light hull with our impedimenta, it was an easy business to place it at the water's edge, and, at a suitable opportunity, run it out into waist-deep water, jump on the almost uncapsizable hull, and with quickly-grasped paddles—no troublesome operation of shipping lengthy oars in row-locks—force the slender craft beyond the breakers. Arrived at the schooner, a biscuit apiece seemed to be considered ample reward by our young friends (biscuits, stale bread, and old crusts are in great request among the Nicobarese), who, after disposing of them, would return to their canoe and disappear into the darkness with cheery farewell cries: "Good-night; good-night, sar; go-o-od-night."
MISSION BOYS AND BURMESE TEACHER, KAR NICOBAR.
Early in our visit, we one morning met with a mishap when landing in our stumpy dinghy through some more than usually heavy surf. The surroundings were scarcely such as one would connect our late Laureate with, but at the moment of catastrophe, some lines of his flashed into my mind:
"'Courage,' he said, and pointed to the land,
'This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon,'"
and indeed it did. A big breaker rose under the stern, and flung the boat, its contents, and ourselves, far up the beach. Fortunately our guns and cartridges were made up into bundles with waterproof canvas, so no harm was done beyond losing a rowlock.
From the incident we learned a lesson, and thereafter, had the proverbial New Zealander been on the beach in the early mornings, he might have seen a little boat approach the shore, with a blue-clad, brown-skinned Malay and a couple of white men in puris naturalibus. Outside the belt of surf, the latter would jump overboard, and, seizing favourable opportunities, wade to and fro with sundry bundles. Presently the dinghy would return, with a solitary occupant, to a schooner in the bay, while the others, after assuming a simple toilet and a peculiar sporting equipment, would disappear from his view, leaving the Antipodean observer alone on the shore. Although a little farther from the village, the best landing-place when the sea is rough is on the stretch of sand next to that adjacent to Mūs, and just to westward and inside the rocky point that separates the two strips of beach.