The brig looked like a menagerie, with the number of creatures which the captain and crew were taking, mostly monkeys and birds, such as were not to be found in Australia.
The natives now returned with a considerable amount of produce, which the skipper received on board, promising to send the goods in payment on shore. In the mean time he presented, with apparent generosity, some kegs of spirits to the chief and his people.
The midshipmen, Casey, and Peter had turned in for the night, which was very dark, with the wind off shore. They heard the skipper go on deck, but were soon asleep again. Not long after this they were awakened by the sound of the windlass.
“Why they must be weighing anchor!” exclaimed Tom.
He and Desmond dressed, and went on deck. The brig was already under way, standing out of the harbour.
“Why, Captain Stubbins, you’ve forgotten to send the goods on shore, in return for the produce which came off yesterday!”
“Bless my heart! so I have!” answered the skipper, with a hoarse laugh. “I’ll pay the people the next time I come here; but they are too drunk by this time to know whether I have paid or not; and, knowing that you were in a hurry to get to Sydney, as the wind was fair, I could not resist the temptation of putting to sea.”
Tom made no reply, but he had a very strong suspicion that the skipper had intended to cheat the poor natives, and such, indeed, he found to be the case.
When morning dawned, the Fox was far beyond the possibility of pursuit by the natives, even had the chiefs been in a condition to follow her, which in all probability they were not, owing to the cunningly bestowed kegs of liquor. The breeze continued, and the Fox made good way. The skipper and his mate were constantly on the look-out to avoid the rocks and shoals which so thickly dot the entrance to Torres Straits. The brig then stood to the eastward, so as to run well clear of the coral reefs which fringe the north-eastern portion of Australia. Tom and his companions were thankful at length to find themselves, after all the dangers and toils they had gone through, on their way to a place where they could hope to meet with their ship; at the same time, there was little comfort to boast of on board. Their berths were narrow recesses on either side of the little cabin, which was close in the extreme, and swarmed, moreover, with cockroaches and other creeping things, scorpions and centipedes, which had come on board with the cargo and occasionally made their appearance.
“I don’t care for the beasts, hungry as they are, but it is not pleasant to know that one may be stung at any moment by them,” said Desmond, as he brought his knife down on one which had fallen on the breakfast table.