Spinkie, as Moses had named him, was an intensely affectionate creature, with a countenance of pathetic melancholy which utterly belied his character, for mischief and fun were the dominating qualities of that monkey. He was seated on a water-cask when Nigel first caught sight of him, holding the end of his long tail in one hand, and apparently wiping his nose with it.
"Is that what he is doing?" asked Nigel of the negro.
"Oh no, Massa Nadgel," said Moses. "Spinkie nebber ketch cold an' hab no need ob a pocket-hangkitcher. He only tickles his nose wid 'is tail. But he's bery fond ob doin' dat."
Being extremely fond of monkeys, Nigel went forward to fondle him, and Spinkie being equally fond of fondling, resigned himself placidly—after one interrogative gaze of wide-eyed suspicion—into the stranger's hands. A lifelong friendship was cemented then and there.
After stowing the cargo the party returned to the upper cavern, leaving the monkey to guard the canoe.
"An' he's a good defender ob it," said Moses, "for if man or beast happen to come near it when Spinkie's in charge, dat monkey sets up a skriekin' fit to cause a 'splosion ob Perboewatan!"
Breakfast over, the hermit put his cave in order for a pretty long absence, and they again descended to the shore, each man carrying his bed on his shoulder. Each bed, however, was light and simple. It consisted merely of one blanket wrapped up in an oil-cloth sheet. Besides, an old-fashioned powder-flask and shot belt. Van der Kemp and Nigel had slung a bullet-pouch on their shoulders, and carried small hatchets and hunting-knives in their belts. Moses was similarly armed, with this difference, that his couteau de chasse bore stronger resemblance to an ancient Roman sword than a knife, and his axe was of larger size than the hatchets of his companions.
Launching the canoe, the hermit and his man held it fast at either end while Nigel was directed to take his place in the central of the three openings or manholes. He did so and found himself seated on a flat board on the bottom of the canoe, which was so shallow that the deck scarcely rose as high as his waist.
Round the manhole there was a ledge of thin wood, about three inches high, to which a circular apron of oiled canvas was attached.
"Yes, you'd better understand that thing before we start," said Van der Kemp, observing that Nigel was examining the contrivance with some curiosity. "It's an apron to tie round you in bad weather to keep the water out. In fine weather it is rolled as you see it now round the ledge. Undo the buckle before and behind and you will see how it is to be used."