Sasa’s gesture was full of profound contempt for the limitations of these “crazy white men.”
“You shoot up fox. You shoot up wolf,” he said. “You not eat him. Why? Him good meat, sure. White man not eat him. Eskimo not eat him—only when he starve. So. You see good man. You say ‘good’! You see bad man. You say ‘bad’! Why? All man do much thing him not know why. Why?” The brown finger was raised again, and it tapped the man’s broad low forehead with its stubby tip. “It here. This man bad. So bad. I say him. You come quick.”
Peter nodded.
“All right. Get right back to your boat, Sasa,” he said resignedly. “Get her all ready. I’ll be along right away. How’ll the tide serve down below?”
“Him good. We mak him in dead water,” Sasa said, with a quick, ready nod. His air of relief at having persuaded the white man was almost child-like. “I go mak ready right away. I mak dis trip so dam’ quick.”
Ivor McLagan stared about him in the feeble light of his hurricane lantern. It was the lazaret of the Limpet. A smallish apartment between decks, with an entrance through a trap in the deck above, which was also the floor of the steward’s pantry. He had just descended the ladder and stood gazing upon the iron tanks with their tightly screwed-down manholes.
The place contained four of these. Their purpose was obvious enough even to his landsman’s mind. They were food containers for biscuit and flour, and such supplies as must be kept safe from the rats with which the vessel had swarmed.
But the place contained other things besides. There were packing cases, and chests of various sizes littered about all round him. There were barrels, too, which he shrewdly suspected contained salted meat, beef and pork. Some of the chests were empty. Some were still nailed fast. Each of the barrels was obviously as it had been originally shipped and stowed.
He stood there for some contemplative moments. He had come there to search this place thoroughly as he intended to search the rest of the vessel. But he had discovered this storage of food supplies quite accidentally, and with no suspicion of its existence. It is even doubtful if he had ever heard of a ship’s lazaret. While examining the steward’s pantry above he had observed the trap in the deck, and forthwith had proceeded with his investigations.