“Very likely,” said the second-mate. “They are traders and fishermen, and sometimes all’s fish that comes to their net. Not very formidable looking enemies, though.”
“They’ve no guns,” said Mark, looking rather contemptuously at the quaint craft.
“Not visible,” said the second-mate, “but I daresay they may have two or three down below ready for mounting as soon as they get to sea.”
“Very large guns?”
“No; small brass pieces which they call lelahs, and which send a ball weighing perhaps a pound.”
“But pirates would not dare to attack a great ship like this,” said Mark.
“Oh, yes, they would, for these Malays are fighting men, who always go armed, while they know that our merchantmen, as a rule, are not. But there is not much to fear. They generally attack weak or helpless vessels, and most of their strongholds have been rooted out.”
Mark watched the departing prau with no little eagerness as he recalled accounts which he had read of attacks by pirates, poisoned krises, and goodly vessels plundered by the bloodthirsty men of Moslem creed, who looked upon the slaying of a Christian as a meritorious act.
As he gazed after the retiring prau, with its dusky crew, a vessel, similar in shape and size, and which had been lying close alongside of the Petrel, heaved up her anchor and set sail.
“Where are they likely to be going?” Mark asked.