"No, they ain't. They are Malays," replied the old sailor. "You had better be careful how you talk to them or they'll knock you flat. I wish that second mate had this crew to deal with."
"Why do you?"
"'Cause he'd be a little careful how he handles them, that's why. If he got on the rampage and tried to knock them around they would turn on him and throw him overboard. We don't want to hail the vessel while the crew is busy, so we will sit down here, and I'll tell you something about them."
Bob and the old sailor accordingly seated themselves on the bank, and the latter proceeded to relate short scraps of his own experience, which were of great interest to Bob, as they in some measure prepared him for the thrilling events that were so soon to follow. Among other things, Ben told his young companion that the majority of vessels trading among those islands employed Malays for foremast hands. They were good sailors, and civil and orderly enough when well treated, but they were ready to use their knives on the slightest provocation; and, moreover, they had laws and customs of their own which everybody must respect, from the cabin-boy up to the master. Besides the three white officers who managed the vessel, the Malays had officers of their own, called the first and second tindals, whose duties corresponded to the work of first and second mates. Did the officer on watch desire to shorten sail or change the course of the vessel, he gave the necessary order, not to the men direct, but to the tindal who was on watch with him, and who saw that the work was executed. When punishment was found to be necessary—and that happened nearly every day—the white officers did not inflict it themselves, but described the offense to the tindals, who dealt with the culprit as they saw fit. Sometimes the offender was flogged until he could scarcely move, and sometimes he was treated with mysterious indignities, which no one but himself and companions could understand. If the officers ever so far forgot themselves as to take the management of affairs into their own hands, a mutiny was the certain result.
"I tell you, a fellow has to keep his wits about him," said Bob.
"You're right he does," said Ben, in conclusion. "These traders are mostly all Englishmen, and that's one thing I don't like about this vessel. But it's go there or stay here, and which had you rather do?"
"Let us go aboard the vessel," said Bob. "We can't be much worse off there than we are here on shore, for these woods look as though they might be full of wild animals. You will be near enough to tell me if I do anything out of the way. This is a queer way of getting back to Clifton, ain't it?"
"Well, you are going there, all the same," said Ben. "We shall probably sail for Singapore, and that is right on our way home. We can't get there afoot, can we?"
"I should like to know if I am ever going to find my father."
"Why, of course you are going to find him. He is somewhere among these islands, and I'll bet anything on it. He wasn't drowned."