“Well, amigo, where are you come from?” asked Adair. The negoda, who seemed to expect some such question, though he probably did not understand the words, pointed to the south, and then uttered a long string of sentences, in which Adair thought he could distinguish Zanzibar.
“Well, my friend, and who are all these people you have got on board?” continued Adair, pointing to the silent figures on deck.
The Arab poured forth a torrent of words, pointing in the same direction as before, and next putting a piece of coin from one hand into the other.
“Yes, I understand; they are travellers, going to see the world, and have paid their passage-money, all right and proper. And when they get to Zanzibar, what are they going to do?” asked Adair.
The last question the Arab evidently did not understand, and Adair saw that it would be useless to press the point, knowing that whatever the Arab might say, whether true or false, he should not be the wiser. “And now, as to those fellows tumbling about there, and butting against each other with their curly pates, and looking more like chimney-sweeps than sailors,” said Adair, “what have they got to do here?”
The Arab, who guessed by the direction of Adair’s eyes that he was asking questions about the men forward, made signs of pulling and hauling.
“Oh, they form part of your crew, do they? Well, I should like to see your papers, and how many hands you are licenced to carry,” said Adair, making the usual signal of pretending to write, which the negoda clearly understanding, produced from his capacious pocket various documents scrawled all over with Arabic characters.
Adair took them, but of course did not understand a single one of the curious-shaped letters and papers. “Very shipshape,” he remarked, pretending to scan the papers. “If you have no slaves on board, nor fittings for slaves, we must let you proceed on your voyage,” he added, returning the papers with a polite bow, on which the skipper appeared highly delighted. “You’ll give me leave first, however, to search the hold and take a look into your cabin.” The negoda’s countenance fell, as Adair, followed by two of his men, made their way into the space under the high poop. “Hallo! who are all these?” he exclaimed, as he saw seated round the sides some thirty sable damsels, bundled up in silks and cottons, with a variety of ornaments on their curly heads, most of them with children in their arms, or seated by their side, little and big.
The skipper looked somewhat nonplussed; but presently, pointing out three of the best-looking, he tried to make his visitor understand that they were his wives.
“Oh! very well,” said Adair, who comprehended his meaning; “but to whom do all those others belong?”