During the day they had passed at some distance many boats and praus and other native vessels, the crews of which ceased to row for a few moments, and gazed with curiosity at the strange craft which glided along so swiftly, and seemed to them little more than a long plank on the water, but these took no further notice of our voyagers. They also passed several ships—part of that constant stream of vessels which pass westward through those straits laden with the valuable teas and rich silks of China and Japan. In some cases a cheer of recognition, as being an exceptional style of craft, was accorded them, to which the hermit replied with a wave of the hand—Moses and Nigel with an answering cheer.
There is something very pleasant in the rest which follows a day of hard and healthful toil. Our Maker has so ordained it as well as stated it, for is it not written, "The sleep of the labouring man is sweet"? and our travellers experienced the truth of the statement that night in very romantic circumstances.
The small rocky islet, not more than a few hundred yards in diameter, which they now approached had several sheltered sandy bays on its shore, which were convenient for landing. The centre was clothed with palm-trees and underwood, so that fuel could be procured, and cocoa-nuts.
"Sometimes," said the hermit, while he stooped to arrange the fire, after the canoe and cargo had been carried to their camping-place at the edge of the bushes,—"sometimes it is necessary to keep concealed while travelling in these regions, and I carry a little spirit-lamp which enables me to heat a cup of tea or coffee without making a dangerous blaze; but here there is little risk in kindling a fire."
"I should not have thought there was any risk at all in these peaceful times," said Nigel, as he unstrapped his blanket and spread it on the ground under an overhanging bush.
"There are no peaceful times among pirates," returned the hermit; "and some of the traders in this archipelago are little better than pirates."
"Where I puts your bed, massa?" asked Moses, turning his huge eyes on his master.
"There—under the bush, beside Nigel."
"An' where would you like to sleep, Massa Spinkie?" added the negro, with a low obeisance to the monkey, which sat on the top of what seemed to be its favourite seat—a watercask.
Spinkie treated the question with calm contempt, turned his head languidly to one side, and scratched himself.