"Yes; our ship is like a great whale, and cannot live without air."
"In a moment the Papouans will be on the top of us, and I don't suppose they will go away in a hurry," replied Mont.
"You suppose they will take possession of the outside and keep it?"
"Exactly."
"Well, then," answered the captain calmly, "I don't see why they shouldn't. Why should I kill the poor creatures if I can help it? I know many savages in the civilized world whom I would cut off with more pleasure. Leave them to me. If it is necessary I will make a terrible example of them."
"You have no cannon."
"I shall not fire a shot, and I shall not wound them in any way, and yet they will fall like leaves in autumn. Go to your friends, and rest perfectly easy," said the captain.
This was a dismissal, and, wondering much, Mont went away.
As he sought his cabin he heard the fierce cries of the savages, who swarmed on the back of the iron ship like flies in summer.
The night passed without any incident. Plenty of oxygen still passed through the ship, but it was time to renew the air, which was becoming impure.