"Yes; but do you know what de mate will say to you when he sees you in that boat? He say: 'Here, you boy, you can't pull an oar alongside of them big fellers. You get out and let a white man get in dar.' Yes, sir, dat's what he will say to you. My only trouble is that he will want you to help me, an' won't let you go off."
Early the next morning, after a hasty breakfast had been disposed of, the order was given to hoist out the water-casks, and while it was being obeyed Ben found opportunity to whisper some instructions to Bob.
"As soon as the casks are in the water a boat will be called away to tow them up the creek," said Ben, "and you and I must be two of the crew. While the casks are being filled we'll watch our chance and slip away, one at a time, and hide in the bushes until the ship sails."
"And what will we do then?" asked Bob. "Stay here on the island and starve to death? I see no signs of inhabitants."
"Neither do I; but I would rather starve ashore than be sent overboard by a belaying-pin, as that fellow was served off the Mauritius. No one has said a word to me, but I know we are not the only ones who think of deserting. Be sure you make one of that boat's crew."
The first mate, who was superintending the operation of getting the casks into the water, very soon became aware that he had a boy there whom he had not seen very often during the voyage. He was an easy-going fellow, very different from the second mate, who went about trying to find fault with the men, and pretty soon he called out to Bob:
"Here, boy, don't you belong in the galley?"
"Yes, sir," promptly replied Bob, releasing his hold upon the rope and stepping up in front of the mate.
"If you please, sar, I can get along widout him," said the cook, stepping up and pulling his topknot. "De boy hasn't been to sea so long before, an' he's anxious to get ashore an' stretch his legs."
The mate said no more, and Bob returned to his work of hoisting out the casks.