The nor’-east monsoon, which blows in the China seas as regularly as clockwork from October to April, and is the great trade-wind of the tea-ships, had nearly blown out its course; but still, for a time it was all in the Hankow Lin’s favour, and she went through the water at a fine rate. Although she was pretty well laden, and was rather deep for a vessel of her size, she walked along as if, as the sailors said, the girls at home had got hold of the tow-rope; and when the log was hove at noon she was going twelve knots with all sail set—not a bad pace that for a trader; but, in the old days, before steam transformed the trade through the Red Sea, these tea-ships were built for speed as well as freight room.
Sundown came, and the great orb of day set in a crescent of ruby light, making the sea like a gorgeous pantomime sea of molten gold as far as the eye could reach; and still the wind held up fair and strong, and the vessel careered over the expanse of ocean, that looked like living fire, without slackening her rate of progress, rising and falling to the waves with pendulum-like rhythm. And now night came on with its azure sky, sprinkled with innumerable stars all glorious with scintillating light, and the ship preserved the even tenor of her way; morning came again with its freshness of roseate hues and golden sun-risings, and purple mists, and transparent haze; and yet, onward—onward, without pause—she flew upon the wings of the wind like a great white dove released from some fowler’s snare and panting for the untrammelled freedom of the wide wide sea.
So day after day passed, and everything went on in regular routine on board, without any incident of note occurring to break the monotony of the voyage, the English sailors keeping to themselves, and the Malays apart, without either mixing or speaking with the others save when the duties of the ship called them into temporary association.
Kifong, the serang, however, they could see was wide-awake, and observant of all that went on around him. He was particularly anxious about the saloon and the passenger: and was continually trying to interrogate Snowball as to what went on within the privileged retreat, to which none else of the crew were admitted. What struck him more than anything else was the amount of food which the black cook was preparing, and carrying from the galley into the cabin.
“What for you takee so muchee prog, black-man, in dere for?” he said one day to Snowball, much to that individual’s indignation at the reference to his colour, which he always most studiously ignored.
“What for, mister yaller man? Why, for eat, sure!”
The Malay’s eyes gleamed like a serpent’s, and he showed his teeth like a snarling dog.
“Five men no eatee that much prog,” he said in an angry tone. “You tell one lie, black-man.”
“Lie yourself, yaller nigger,” said the darky. “You no tink dat four officers and de passenger gen’leman all eat muchee food; very good appeta-tites havee.”
The serang walked away from Snowball with a strong expression of doubt in his face, and ever afterwards seemed to bear a particular ill-will to the darky, laying traps to trip him up on his passage to and fro between the galley and the cabin when heavily laden with dishes for Mr Meredith’s gigantic meals.