Just then there was an order from the deck, and more sail was taken in, till the ship hardly moved, as the canoes came dashing up, the men of the foremost singing a mournful kind of chorus as they paddled on.
“Ship ahoy!” suddenly came from the first canoe. “What ship’s that?”
“His Majesty’s sloop-of-war Golden Danae,” shouted back the first lieutenant from the chains. “Tell your other boats to keep back, or we shall fire.”
“No, no, no: don’t do that, sir! They don’t mean fighting,” came back from the boat; and a big savage, whose face was blue with tattooing, stood up in the canoe, and then turned and spoke to one of his companions, who rose and shouted to the occupants of the other canoes to cease paddling.
“Speaks good English, sir,” said the lieutenant to the captain.
“Yes. Ask them what they want, and if it’s peace.”
The lieutenant shouted this communication to the savage in the canoe.
“Want, sir?” came back; “to trade with you for guns and powder, and to come aboard.”
“How is it you speak good English?”
“Why, what should an Englishman speak?”