“All right! up with you,” said Bob; and as another man held on by one of the big oars that hung in its place, the boatman hooked on his boat-hook in one of the rattan-twisted ropes, and cleverly climbed up, catching the rope that was thrown up and making it fast, when half a dozen of the sailors, with Bob Roberts and Ali, were soon on the short, bamboo deck.
“It seems almost a pity to burn her,” said Bob, who was greatly taken by the workmanship of the craft.
“No, no!” said Ali angrily, as his eyes wandered suspiciously about amidst the reeds; “burn her, burn her! the decks have been stained with blood, and many a poor, innocent creature has suffered outrage at the owner’s hands. Rajah Gantang was a cruel, bloodthirsty pirate. Let the river be purified from his boats!”
“But,” said Bob, laughing, “we might give it a good washing down, and fumigate it below decks, and afterwards give it a coat of paint. It would be purified enough then, and it might be useful.”
“I do not understand you,” said Ali seriously; “but let your men be quick; I fear danger.”
“What a suspicious chap you are, to be sure, Ali,” replied Bob. “I’ll be bound to say, if the truth was known, there isn’t a nigger within a mile of us. Here, look alive, my lads; it seems a pity to burn such a boat; but orders are orders, and we shall have a gun fired directly, by way of recall. There, that will do; lay the oakum there, and pour the spirits over it. She’ll burn like a firework.”
The men obeyed in a quiet leisurely manner, quite satisfied of there being no danger if their officer saw none; so the oakum and yarn they had brought were heaped up on the bamboo deck, and another lot thrust into a kind of cabin, plenty of the spirit poured on each, and nothing was needed but the application of a match or two for the work of destruction to begin.
Still Bob seemed loth to fire so well-built a vessel, and he stood pointing out good points in the make of the long light boat, counting the number of sweeps she had carried, examining the shot holes and the like—partly in a bravado spirit, for Ali was all anxiety to get on board the steamer again, scenting danger as he did on every breath of wind, while Bob wanted to show him how matter-of-fact and cool a British officer could be.
“Look!” said Ali suddenly, and he laid his hand upon Bob’s shoulder.
“Which way?” said Bob quietly. “I can see nothing.”