“Let’s see,” I said, tracing the chart with my finger; “our course lies directly through the Low Archipelago. What a lot of islands there are! But there seems to be plenty of room between them.”
“Certainly,” agreed my father. “Give us weather like this an’ we’ll dodge every rock in our way.”
I understood what he meant. The weather is treacherous in these seas near the equator, and it would be bad for us to encounter a storm among the rocky shoals of the islands. Just now the weather was magnificent and the sea as smooth as glass. Our engines were in fine working order and we made sufficient speed to satisfy even the restless new “owner,” Señor de Jiminez.
A piano was in the main cabin and Lucia played and sang very agreeably. Her songs were mostly those dreamy Spanish things with melody enough to haunt you long afterward, and Joe especially listened with eagerness to every note, although “Little Jim” was always on hand to turn the music. Joe couldn’t do that, not being able to read a note and he was often on duty besides; but Lucia knew he appreciated her music and whether our boy mate was in the cabin or tramping the deck overhead she played to please him more than she did Alfonso.
Now that all the hurly-burly of stowing the cargo and getting under way was over, our passengers settled down to enjoy the voyage, and it was then that the peculiar traits in their various characters became noticeable. I admit that we are all peculiar in one way or another, as some clever student of human nature has observed and recorded before my time. Perhaps, therefore, our new acquaintances were no more odd in their ways than the ordinary run of humanity.
Madam de Jiminez was as placid and contented as the day was long. She required little amusement and was no bother at all. Madam de Alcantara, on the contrary, proved fussy and exacting. She led poor Nux a dog’s life, waiting on her whims, and her daughter had no easy time of it either. Lucia was very dutiful and obedient and ran at once when summoned by her mother—which was every fifteen minutes on a fair average. Yet the Señora was quite gracious to all about her and never lost her temper or said unkind things. Being as beautiful as she was gracious we had not the heart to blame her. I believe her fussiness was a nervous affliction and that the lady really had a kindly nature. Lucia was devoted to her and tenderly loved her.
This girl, the third of our female passengers, was always bright and cheery and the life of the party. She accepted Alfonso’s marked attentions with absolute indifference. Being accustomed to them she evidently considered them characteristic of the boy and to be borne with patience while in his society. Joe pleased her better; but she was not the least bit a flirt and had no thought as yet of falling in love with anyone. Her feeling for Joe was one of good comradeship.
Little Jim would have been a very decent fellow could he have modified his airs of importance and curbed his excessive vanity. He was really a bright, clever boy, and the son of a man somewhat distinguished in his own country. But the youth’s patronizing manner was intolerable, and one evening when he had joined Joe and me and we were leaning over the rail together I was obliged to “call him down” in no gentle manner.
“I don’t mind associating with you here where there is no formality, you know,” he said; “but if you ever come to Bogota you must not expect me to be quite so free with you.”
“If ever we come to Bogota,” I remarked, “we are liable to find you in jail or in hiding among the mountains. These petty South American revolutions take queer turns sometimes and are liable to become dangerous.”