Uncle Naboth was pretty glum next morning. He was trying to find some way to back out of the expedition gracefully and with credit. Finally he said to us:
“You boys ain’t to be depended on; I’ve found that out. We had all our plans fixed to get into a steady, respectable coast trade, where there wouldn’t be a single thing to keep any o’ us awake nights; and here, when we’re only a week out o’ port, you’ve gone an’ upsot the whole deal.”
“It is funny, Uncle, I’ll admit,” said I. “But you can’t blame us for it, I’m sure. Lay it to Fate, where the responsibility belongs. Remember, too, that you were one of the first to offer to join the expedition.”
“I were wrong about that, Sam,” he replied, eagerly. “I meant to stick to my principles, as an honest man should. An’, by jinks, I will stick to my principles! Don’t try to argy with me; don’t try to coax me. As sure as my name’s Naboth Perkins I’m goin’ to stick to this ship, whatever you reckless bunch o’ youngsters may decide on.”
“Do you back down, sir?” demanded Archie, who was secretly much amused.
“No, sir; not a jot. I stick to my first principles; that’s all.”
Well, we were glad he took it that way, for we didn’t want Uncle Naboth with us. He was brave enough, we knew; but he had a way of getting us all into unnecessary trouble, and his rotund figure prevented him from being as active as the rest of us. A better fellow never lived than this same Naboth Perkins, but we all felt he was safer on board ship than in the wildernesses of Yucatan, and we had a suspicion we would be safer without him, too.
From that time on the adventure was our one topic of conversation. Chaka suggested that he teach us to speak the Maya tongue during the voyage, and we eagerly accepted the offer. I had already a smattering of Arabian and Chinese and could speak fluently the native language of our South Sea Islanders, Nux and Bryonia. So it was little trouble to me, with the painstaking instructions of Chaka and Allerton, to learn to comprehend fairly the Maya tongue. Joe was a natural linguist and kept pace with me easily, but poor Archie was woefully thick-headed when it came to foreign languages. Even Ned Britton, who was wholly uneducated, got along better than he. We kept up our lessons until the day we sighted the coast of Yucatan, but even then Archie understood only a few words of Maya. The mate, for his part, knew all that was said to him, but was rather slow and uncertain of speech, while Joe and I could converse readily with Allerton and Chaka in the Maya.
One of the queerest things, in this regard, was our discovery that black Nux, our steward, had caught on to Chaka’s language with little difficulty, and had himself taught it to Bry. They surprised us one evening by joining in our conversation, and that decided Allerton to ask permission to add them to our party.
“I have never seen finer physical specimens of manhood than these blacks,” he said to me, “and your reports of their loyalty and courage have quite warmed my heart toward them. Perhaps their jet black complexions would be as great a novelty to the Tcha as white skins, and these fellows will add greatly to the strength of our party.”