“‘Neck-yokes,’ said I to Lynch. ‘We have stumbled on a slaver!’
“‘Here comes a white man,’ he replied. There were a few natives watching us from the top of the bank, and through these there came a man of huge stature, with a rough, red beard and dressed in a suit of embroidered silk pajamas. The people wilted away from him as he approached, then fell in behind, walking with the curious drop-kneed gait of bush-folk the world over when ill at ease. This giant strode to the edge of the bank and stood glaring down without a word.
“‘Good evening,’ observed Lynch, and shoved the canoe to the bank.
“‘Where are ye from?’ said the fellow, with a rough Caledonian accent, and staring down with his red beard thrust out and his small, pale eyes watching us suspiciously. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow and his huge forearms, covered with shaggy hair, were folded across his bulging chest.
“‘From the other side of the island,’ said Lynch. He stepped out on the bank as if he had been invited and proceeded to moor the canoe.
“‘What’s this ye’re doin’?’ growled the red-bearded giant above him. His great arms had dropped to his side and one could see how the thick muscles held them with bent elbows.
“‘Hitching the boat,’ replied Lynch, indifferently. He did so, and walked to the top of the bank.
“‘Whose house is that?’ he asked.
“‘The hoos is mine,’ growled the man, and ’tis no tavern I’m keepin’—d’ye see?’
“‘Oh, I quite understand that,’ said Lynch, pleasantly. ‘Of course, you wish us to be your guests.’ He turned to me. ‘Doctor,’ he said, ‘this gentleman wishes us to stop the night with him.’ He turned to the other. ‘Very decent of you, I’m sure, especially as my friend has a touch of the fever and ought to rest up a bit.’ He proceeded to direct the unloading of the canoes, even calling some of the red man’s retainers to assist.