“What is it, then?”
“I belave it’s the ouldest hin about these parts, sor. He jabbered away in his haythen dialect, and swore it was a tinder young chicken; but it’s an ould hin, that’s laid eggs till she’s tired, and won’t lay any more, and he wants to sell her.”
“But is it white?”
“Oh yes! it’s white enough, sir.”
“That will do, then. I don’t suppose the croc can tell whether a bird’s tender or tough. Come along.”
Frank led on, leaving the palm houses behind, plunging among the trees, and winding in and out, till Ned recognised the spot where he had stopped to watch the river, and there he could see, lying about in the shade, eight or nine of the Malays, most of whom had spears, which stood leaning against the trunks of the trees.
“Now then, you two must talk English. I have got to speak in Malay, for I am going to do all the ordering this time. I say, Ned, you like fishing,” he added, laughing. “You shall hold the line.”
“But what are you going to do?”
“Wait a bit and you’ll see,” cried the lad; and he began to order the Malays about, the men hurrying here and there, and, evidently at his command, keeping right away from the banks of the river.
“Don’t want to scare our fish,” he said, hurriedly, to Ned. Then, as a man came up with a coil of rope, Frank undid a part of it, and showed that some feet of the end were not twisted, but all loose.