“Why, my lad, who are you?” asked the first mate, who had assisted him on board.
“I am an Englishman,” was the answer of the stranger, but he in vain tried to say more.
“Though you are pretty well sun-burnt, you have an Englishman’s face sure enough, though you seem to have lost the use of your tongue.”
“Long, long time no talk English,” replied the man, who seemed to understand pretty clearly what was said to him. We had too much to do, however, to spend time in asking him questions.
Before night we had some spars lashed to the stump of the main-mast, which enabled us to set a little after sail and bring the vessel to.
It was of the greatest importance not to run further eastward. Happily the wind shifted, and getting the vessel’s head round we steered for Singapore. The gale, too, began to abate, and the sea to go down, so that we were able to carry on our work with less difficulty than had before been the case. The dangers in our course were numerous, but we hoped, by constant vigilance, to avoid them.
Chapter Three.
We had an anxious time of it as we made our way back to Singapore, between islands innumerable and coral reefs below water, on which it was often with difficulty we avoided running. The first mate was seldom off the deck, and Crowfoot, the boatswain, showed that he did not boast without justice of his seamanship.