But the silence did not last long. It was still three hours from daylight, and the captain employed the time in preparations for the action which he anticipated on the following day. The yards were sent down; the decks were cleared of all useless incumbrances; the guns were got ready; and an attempt was made, to some extent, to disguise the vessel, so that, in the event of the pirates being found, the gun-boat might get as near as possible without her true character being discovered. The men, meanwhile, who were not engaged in such work, busied themselves in sharpening cutlasses and cleaning small arms, while they conversed in an undertone. All was activity and order, without fuss or needless noise—the result of a man of the right stamp being in command.
“It’s a brush we’ll be havin’ soon,” said Rooney Machowl, with a flash of the eye which told that he inherited a little of his nation’s love of fighting.
“Looks like it,” replied Maxwell, who sat beside his friend in the midst of a group of the Malay crew, rubbing up his cutlass with much interest.
“Does anybody know how many of a crew we have altogether?” asked Rooney.
“I heard the captain say to Mr Berrington,” answered Joe Baldwin, who was busy cleaning a rifle, “that we’ve got ninety men all told, which is quite enough for a 180-ton vessel. With these and seven guns we should be more than a match for all the pirates of the eastern seas.”
“Ho!” exclaimed Ram-stam, looking up from the weapon he was engaged on with an amused expression, “you know noting of pirits of dem seas. Hi! Hi! Wait.”
Ram-stam said this with the air of one who held the decided opinion that when he had waited Joe would have his views enlarged.
“What, are they such bold fellows?”
“Ho yis, vely muchee bold. Ca’es for noting. ’Flaid of noting. Doos a’most anyting—’cept what’s good.”
“Swate cratures,” murmured Rooney; “I hope we’ll be introdooced to aich other soon.”