"Doctor, there is great trouble among my people," he said in a low voice. "Last night eleven of them died, and now they are dying all the time. Some terrible plague is among them and they die, they die!"

This startled me. I had not noticed that there was anything amiss forward, but then I remembered I had spent practically all my time aft. Instantly there came to me the recollection of the sudden deaths of my friends at the ford of the Masuto River. I asked him what form the disease seemed to take and he gave me a lot of rambling details, none of which made much sense. He was plainly in a blue funk. I told him to stay where he was and then went to the captain's cabin.

"I was just about to send for you, Doctor O'Neil," he said in greeting. "Something has broken loose among those Java coolies and they are dying like flies. As you know, we have no doctor on board. Will you go and see what's the matter?"

Then he told me that the first officer had buried more than a dozen the first thing that morning and that he would have to throw another lot overboard by noon.

"Why, they're dying like flies," he continued, "and we've got to do something to stop it. I shipped a full three thousand of them, but at the rate they're going I won't have a thousand left when I reach Paramaribo!"

So the captain and I went into the forecastle, taking with us the little Javanese head man. It took me about five minutes to find out what was the trouble.

"They've got the 'flu' and got it bad," I told the skipper. "It looks as though we are in for a bad time."

I was right. Here we were in the midst of nearly three thousand ignorant people who had no idea of what was the matter. All they knew was that the man who was sick now would be dead in a short time. They sat about, perfectly quiet, waiting for death. I have never seen such resignation. In the scuppers there were six or seven bodies waiting for the first officer and his burial crew. No one paid any attention to the dead; they just sat about as though stupefied by what was happening.

"There's just one thing to do," I told the captain when we got back to his cabin, "and that's to organize a life-saving corps and get to work. Let's get all the medicine you have and as much brandy as there is on board and make a fight."

He agreed with me, and we overhauled the medical stores, finding little of any use in the present crisis. I have forgotten now what there was, but I remember thinking that we would have to put our trust in God and alcohol. I told the captain how inadequate his medicines were and he threw up his hands.