“What are you going to do with the monkey?” said Bob, peremptorily.
“Well, sir,” said Dick, seeing that he had gone far enough, “I was up in the campong there, and I bought him of one of the niggers as used him to pick cokey-nuts.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” said Bob, derisively.
“He will,” said Dick; “and I bought him because, I says to myself, I says: Here’s just the sorter thing our doctor would be glad to have, and he’d pin a long name to him directly, and say as he’s a Blackskinnius Monkinius, or something of the kind.”
“And are you going to take it to the doctor?” said Bob.
“Yes, sir, now, directly I’ve showed you how he can pick cokey-nuts. Bill Black, mate, just step down and bring that ball o’ stout fishing-line out o’ the locker, will you?”
The sailor addressed went down, and returned directly after to Dick, who undid the chain, and tied one end of the stout fishing cord to the monkey’s strap.
The little animal had been munching away at the biscuit in a quaint semi-human fashion; but as soon as Dick had fastened one end of the cord to the belt, it seemed to know what was wanted, for it squatted upon the deck, looking intelligently up in the sailor’s face.
“There, ain’t he an old un?” said Dick. “Now then, Yusuf, be kraja.”
As the monkey heard the last two words, it sprang up the rigging to one of the great blocks, which in his mind represented the cocoa-nuts it was to bring down, and seizing one it tried hard to twist it off, chattering angrily, till Dick gave the cord a jerk, when the animal bounded to another block, and tried hard to fetch it off, going so far as to gnaw at the rope that held it, till Dick gave the cord another jerk, when it came down.