This arrangement had barely been completed when the steamer was within hail, but no hail was given, for the captain knew what was expected of him. He reduced speed as the vessel approached the canoe, and finally came almost to a stop as he ranged alongside.
“What cheer, Van der Kemp? D’ye want a lift to-day?” shouted the skipper, looking over the side.
A nod and a wave of the hand was the hermit’s reply.
“Heave a rope, boys—bow and stern—and lower away the tackle,” was the skipper’s order.
A coil was flung to Van der Kemp, who deftly caught it and held on tight. Another was flung to Moses, who also caught it and held on—slack. At the same moment, Nigel saw a large block with a hook attached descending towards his head.
“Catch it, Nigel, and hook it to the ring at your elbow,” said the hermit.
Our hero obeyed, still in surprise, though a glimmer of what was to follow began to dawn.
“Haul away!” shouted the skipper, and next moment the canoe was swinging in the air, kept in position by the lines in the hands of Van der Kemp and Moses. At the same time another order was given, and the steamer went ahead full speed.
It was all so suddenly done, and seemed such a reckless proceeding, that Nigel found himself on the steamer’s deck, with the canoe reposing beside him, before he had recovered from his surprise sufficiently to acknowledge in suitable terms the welcome greeting of the hospitable skipper.
“You see, Nigel,” said Van der Kemp that night, as the two friends paced the deck together after supper, “I have other means, besides paddles and sails, of getting quickly about in the Java seas. Many of the traders and skippers here know me, and give me a lift in this way when I require it.”