“Why your brother no lib for come? You sabey I no like bobbery in my ship. Plenty boy make bobbery.”
“Frying Pan lib for him small country, catch yam. One time see capen flag, me send boy, run tell him Petrel libs.”
“All right; now tell those fellows to be quiet. Clear out all but your own and Frying Pan’s men.”
“All right, sah,” said Flying Jib; and with Bottle of Beer and some other men whom he called to him, they drove the majority of the Kruboys overboard, where they soon regained their canoes and paddled after the brig until she came to an anchor.
Flying Jib’s boys now furled sails, squared yards, and coiled down ropes; and just as they were finished Frying Pan himself came off. He had dressed himself somewhat for his appearance on board the Petrel, and had on a tall hat ornamented with peacock’s feathers, a sailor’s shirt and trousers, and round his neck a brass chain, from which hung a plate on which was engraved, “Frying Pan, Captain Baldwin’s head Kruman,” and of which he seemed very proud.
“How now, Frying Pan?” said my father; “why you no be here one time when ship come?”
“Sorry, sah, but lib for small country; now catch tree wive, and he make plant yam.”
“All right now; make your boys fall in and I will see whom we will take.”
“Bery good; see two surf-boat lib. He want ten men for each and one bosun—dat be two tens and two bosuns; now for work hold ten men—dat be tree ten; and want tree cook.”
“Yes, I want thirty men, and you can have two bosuns; but you must make the men cook for themselves.”