“Come, my hearty, no knives, we don’t allow them. That’s not English. Put it up; no one shall hurt the beast, I promise you. Bob, you fool, why couldn’t you leave the animal alone? You forget you are among savages here.”
At this, the other men burst out into a laugh.
“Yes,” observed one; “I can swear, when I get back, that the natives of this island are savages, who eat raw flesh, have seals for playmates, and don’t wear clothes enough for common decency?”
This made them laugh more, and the man who had attacked Nero, and who had got upon his legs again, joined with the others; so all was again good humour. The men sat down to their breakfast, while I examined the boat again, and afterwards asked many questions, with which they were much amused, every now and then observing, “Well, he is a savage!”
After they had breakfasted, I made Nero catch another fish, and sent him up to the cabin with it, as I was afraid that the man might do him an injury, and then told the mate that the woman had desired me to bring up some potatoes.
“Take them,” said he; “but you have nothing to carry them up with. Here, fill the pail, and I will go to the cabin with you.”
“She told me that I was to ask you for a small boat’s sail, to hang up as a screen.”
“Well, she shall have the boat’s mizen. We don’t want it. I’ll carry it up.”
The mate threw the sail and yard over his shoulder, and followed me up to the cabin. On our arrival, we found the missionary’s wife sitting on the platform, Nero lying not far from her, with the fish beside him. The mate took off his hat, and saluted my new companion, saying, that he hoped she was comfortable last night.
“Yes,” replied she, “as much so as I could expect; but I turned this good lad out of his cabin, which I do not wish to do again, and therefore I requested the sail for a screen. Now, John Gough, what do you intend to do?” continued she.