'Don't kill them!' he cried; 'fresh pork for the boat.'
Tearing off some bark from a sapling, Bill lashed the animals' feet securely together and carried them to the boat. They were both very plump, and yelled and squealed and bit vigorously. The sow was at once cut up by Tom, who was no novice at such work, for he had often lent a hand in the killing yard on his father's station, and soon the quarters were hung up to a branch.
After nine o'clock the rain ceased, the sun came out bright and warm, and the trade wind blew fresh and clear, and brought with it the sweet earthy smell from the rain-soaked forest around and above them. Flock after flock of small but noisy green and gold and scarlet plumaged parrakeets came screaming down from the mountain sides, and settled on the bushes which overhung the creek, and every now and then, with heavy flapping of wings and deep booming note, pigeons, singly and in pairs, lit in the branches of the loftier trees, to feed on the scarlet berries of the maso'i and se'ase'a.
Satisfied from the absence of any paths along the mountain side that they were not likely to be disturbed by native visitors, and that the boat could not possibly be discerned from the sea, the three adventurers hauled her alongside of a smooth, flat rock on the bank of the creek, and unloaded her. Everything was spread out to dry, and Tom was astonished at the number and variety of articles his companions had managed to smuggle away from the Leonie.
Bill smiled grimly. 'That's the first time I've ever robbed any one--if it is robbery. The steward helped me to get most of the provisions.'
'Robbery!' said Charlie, 'not a bit of it. There's a matter of about three hundred dollars due me by Bully Hayes for wages, which I shall never see.'
'And I was to get a hundred from him with my discharge from Samoa,' said Bill, 'so that's four hundred dollars he'll be to windward.'
'Let us reckon up the value of all this gear, and see how we stand with Bully,' said Charlie, with a grin. 'Mr. Wallis, you do the figgerin', an' me an' Mr. Chester will do the valooin'. Now here goes; but as we hasn't any pens an' paper these will do.'
He went down to the water's edge and returned with his cap full of small smooth pebbles, which he handed to Tom. Then, seizing a flour-sack, which was full of various articles, he turned them out on the rock.
Thirty-four tins of canned dog, called American meat. How much, Mr. Chester?'