The young officer's haphazard shot had gone home, for a smile which broadened into a grin appeared on face after face, as the boatmen looked at each other, their sleepy eyes brightened, and, after a few words had been exchanged among themselves, the Malay who seemed most in authority turned to Beecher, and the negotiations were at an end.
"Get plenty of food for your own use," said the young officer. "We'll send our servants down with what we want, and we'll start in an hour."
The Malay nodded, and the officers turned away.
"Lazy beggars," said Hollins slowly. "How you can manage 'em, Dick! I couldn't have done that."
"You could if you liked to try," said Beecher. "Now then, let's see about our guns and tackle. Where are those fellows of ours? Never here when they're wanted."
Beecher was wrong, for a keen-looking young fellow who had been watching them ever since they left the major's side, suddenly stepped forward and saluted.
"Want me, sir?"
"Oh, there you are, Jerry. Here, we're going."
"Up the river, sir? Yes, sir; all right, sir. Guns, rods and tackle, landing net. Reevolvers and cartridges. Take anything to heat, sir?"
"Yes, of course; a good basketful of provisions. Coffee, kettle, and cups."