“It is a wild scheme, Martin,” said I. Then to the ex-slave I added: “No, I fear that boys like us would but encumber your vessel. Therefore, good Prabu, go with us to Mynheer Vandervelden, and beg of him to take us into his service; for he will listen to you, who are so much older than us, and, like him, had received benefits from our good uncle.”
“Claud, I will not go to Vandervelden; I am determined! Are you so cowardly that you fear to go with Prabu?”
“My young masters, my sons,” said Prabu, dreading that a quarrel was imminent between us, “in Allah’s name, dispute not! Be of one mind, or, like the tiger and the forest, you will both come to grief.”
“Bother! What have the tiger and the forest got to do with us?” interrupted my brother, now good-humoredly, and, I could see, regretting his hasty words.
“Much,” replied Prabu, sententiously; adding: “A tiger and a forest had united in close friendship, and they afforded each other mutual protection. When men wanted to take wood or leaves from the forest, they were dissuaded by their fear of the tiger; and when they would take the tiger, he was concealed by the forest. After a long time, the forest was rendered foul by the residence of the tiger, and it began to be estranged from him. The tiger thereupon quitted the forest, and men, having found out that it was no longer guarded, came in numbers and cut down the wood and robbed the leaves, so that in a short time the forest was destroyed, and became a bare place. The tiger, leaving the forest, was seen, and although he attempted to hide himself in clefts and valleys, men attacked and killed him; and thus, by their disagreement, the forest was exterminated, and the tiger lost his life.”
“Prabu is right, brother; we must stick together if we would be successful,” said Martin, when our new friend had concluded his fable. “But look you, Claud,” he added, in his usual impetuous, warm-hearted manner, “you don’t mean to say that you thought I meant what I said, did you?”
“Of course not, Martin—at least, I know you don’t now,” I replied, shaking his offered hand; “and to show you that we are of one mind, I am ready to go on board the prahu at once, if Prabu is willing to take us.”
“Bravo! You are a good-natured old boy, Claud, and I am ashamed of myself. But, Prabu,” he said to our companion, “will you take us nest-gathering?”
“My young masters have been delicately reared; is it possible, then, that they can bear the hardships of a nest-gatherer’s life?” he replied, evasively.
“Oh, bother!” replied Martin, laughing; “you don’t take us Yankee boys for a couple of sugar-candy figures, or wax dolls, do you? Come, don’t keep us in suspense, but say, like a good fellow, whether you will or will not take us with you.”