CHAPTER IX

TOWARD SINGAPORE

For nearly three days the party remained on the spot, closely examining the ancient Buddhist temples of Boro Boedoer, all three of them being fascinated by the extraordinary monument of bygone times, and, indeed, Mr. Sergeant could with difficulty bring himself to leave the neighbourhood.

'As I have told you,' he said, 'I have spent much leisure time here, and each visit finds something fresh to attract attention. There is something strange and mysterious about it all, and beside that I am a bit of an archæologist.'

With much regret Jack Clewlin packed his spare gear, and with the ponies homeward-bound soon left all trace of the temples far behind.

Considerable progress was made. At the old halting-places the animals were changed, and without further incident Mr. Sergeant and his guests arrived at Batavia, a memorable excursion of slightly over three weeks' duration thus coming to a close.

'I do not know how to thank you sufficiently, sir,' Jack exclaimed, as his host took final leave of him; 'but I never enjoyed anything so splendid.'

'You are heartily welcome, my boy,' Mr. Sergeant replied. 'I only wish the trip could have been prolonged, but business is business, you understand, and I expect that your sailing orders have by this time arrived. When you see your father, mention me. Years ago, Jack, he did me a great service that can never be forgotten, and I should be only too pleased to see you again, whenever you visit these parts.'

'Thank you, sir,' Jack replied.

'Just one word more before we part,' Mr. Sergeant continued. 'Wherever you go, and whatever you undertake, be careful to act with straightforward zeal on behalf of those you serve. Never hurt any man, and never forget to hold strong control over yourself, since that will give strength to command others. You are young now, and may at times be tempted by less honourable associates. Shun them as you would avoid poison, since once you lose your own self-respect you are sure to fail. Good-bye, Jack; fear God always, and keep your honour safe. Don't forget my respects to your father.'

'No, sir,' Jack replied. 'And I shall endeavour to act up to your advice.'

Mr. Statten was particularly pleased to find the lad once again on board, and prepared for duty, while the chief officer gave him a smile on crossing the gangway. As for Readyman, he immediately made inquiry as to how Jack had enjoyed his long 'liberty' on shore.

'Oh, man, I have seen such wonderful things!' Jack exclaimed; 'flies that sail round of nights with lights to guide them, not red and green ones like ours, but white. I saw smoking----'

'Dutchies!' Readyman exclaimed. 'They do that all day, and most of the night, I believe.'

'Volcanoes,' Jack continued. 'And those fellows ashore eat more at one meal than would serve the starboard side of our fo'c's'le for one whole day. Mr. Sergeant---- By the way, Readyman, he said he knew you, and was supercargo of the "Isabella."'

'Ay, ay, sonny, I mind him well. He and your dad were always very thick; and he only escaped drowning by the skin of his teeth, as we say.'

'Well, it was he who gave us that splendid outing, and I shall never forget those temples. You should have seen them, Readyman. Mr. Sergeant said they are more than a thousand years old.'

'I'm glad you've had such a good time, my son, and can now stick your toes into the work aboard,' the quarter-master replied.

When Captain Thorne returned on board that night the news soon spread fore and aft that orders to proceed to Singapore had been received, and that the 'Alert' would probably sail from there either to Calcutta or Hong Kong.

First thing next morning Mr. Sennit, the chief officer, came along singing out, 'All hands bend sails!' and throughout that day the work went with a swing.

As for Jack Clewlin, he had already become so accustomed to the task that both royals were secured to their yards in record time, and from them he slid down to the topgallant and lower yards, reeving bunt lines and reef-tackles, and, in short, striving to show how thankful he was for that magnificent spell ashore. After that work was completed the anchor gear, cat and fish falls were rove.

To the surprise of all hands, the lately landed Germans came off begging a passage to Singapore, since their skipper had gone home, and no employment could be obtained among the few ships in the roadstead.

Captain Thorne considered the matter, and finally granted their request, and that kindness subsequently proved of the utmost importance to everyone on board.

The boat being hoisted in and secured in its davits, all hands manned the windlass, and to the cheery chanty:

'As I went awalking one morning in May, Ho, rio, I met a fair maiden, and to her did say, We are bound to the Rio Grande.

Away rio, ho, rio. Sing fare you well, My bonnie young girls, We are bound to the Rio Grande.'

Up and down went the levers, and the pawls clicked cheerily till the cable was hove short. Every stitch of canvas fore and aft was sheeted home and mastheaded, and with the tripping of the anchor the 'Alert' canted her head seaward, and careening to the breeze in ballast trim speedily left Batavia far astern.

With a light five-knot wind she proceeded northward through the Java Sea, and for a few days all went well.

Immediately after she had passed through Billiton Passage, which separates the island of that name from the southern coast of Borneo, the hitherto magnificent weather underwent a considerable change, the outlook presaging an approaching gale, and the barometer fell with steady persistency.

'We're in for a sharp blow, Master Jack,' Readyman observed. 'It will be short, but lively, as usual in these seas, and you will face the first really stiff breeze since leaving home.'

'Well, I've had a long run of luck in that way,' Jack replied, 'and would have preferred more sea room. Mr. Statten let me see his chart, and we seem to be surrounded by small islands.'

'She'll be all right, my son; but I'd get my oilskins on as soon as possible,' Readyman advised.

Throughout the afternoon the wind steadily strengthened, and the barque, close-hauled, lay down to it pretty freely, while both royals and the flying jib and gaff-topsail were stowed.

With approaching night the weather stiffened considerably; rain fell heavily, and at eight bells, eight o'clock, the two topgallant-sails were furled, while the outer jib came in on its boom. As by that time the wind had increased to gale force, with every indication of 'dirtier' weather to follow, out went the order, 'All hands reef topsails!'

The mainsail was hauled up, and all the reef-tackles were hauled out. From Mr. Statten a couple of men received the reef-earings, or lengths of light rope by which the head corners, or 'cringles,' as they are termed, of the sails are fastened to the yards, and away aloft through stinging rain and whistling wind the men hastened to execute the orders.

Mindful of Readyman's former advice to 'be always on the spot when needed,' Jack Clewlin worked his way out to the weather yardarm, and, securing good foothold, assisted in reefing the canvas. Yet he soon discovered that all his work was cut out to keep pace with the nimble movements of his stronger and more experienced companion, since, of course, the men nearer the mast had to wait until the work outside was done.

That being completed, down wind went the cry, 'Haul out to lee'ard!'

The men passed the 'news' along. Mr. Statten at the mast shouted, 'Taut band! Tie up!' And having fastened the reef-points, all hands slid to the deck, seized the topsail halyards, and to the lively chanty:

'Up aloft that yard must go, Whisky, Johnny,'

the main topsail was reset 'taut leach,' while the fore topsail was also reefed, and the mainsail was stowed.

'That will do, starboard watch,' the old man, who never left the deck during that night, sang out, and, glad of a respite, Jack turned in.

But half his watch below had been spent on the yards, and on resuming duty the foresail had to be reefed; but the inner jib and the spanker had been stowed and reefed.

The gale showed no sign of abatement, nor the barometer any inclination to rise, while the barque, owing to her height above water, drifted to leeward somewhat faster than was deemed safe in such confined seas. She was, therefore, 'wore round' on the port tack.

Dawn was breaking just as the port watch went below, but the heavy rain and flying spume cut from the wave-tops by the wind, rendered it impossible to see any distance.

For a couple of hours nothing of moment occurred. Shortly after seven o'clock that morning, and during a sudden 'lifting' of the surrounding gloom, the lookout reported the loom of land right ahead.

Captain Thorne dropped his coffee-cup and rushed on deck, just in time to perceive the danger, and without a moment's hesitation he ordered the helm to be eased.

'I knew it was not far off,' he said; 'but we have drifted faster than I had allowed for. That may be due to a tide or a current. We can't knock about here in such weather, and will find shelter until the gale passes.'

He sent a hand with the lead-line into the main chains.

Under her easy canvas the 'Alert' forged ahead. The island, which seemed uninhabited and thickly covered with timber, soon became quite distinct, and well sheltered from the wind under its lee the barque dropped her anchor in four fathoms.

All the canvas, excepting the fore topmast staysail and the spanker, which helped to keep the vessel quiet at her cable, was stowed, but even from aloft no sign of habitation could be seen.

Toward noon that day the barometer rose rapidly, and within a few hours the gale had passed as quickly as it arose, and the water under the lee shore became as smooth as if nothing had occurred. By four o'clock there was such a calm that the 'Alert' could not leave her anchorage.

Captain Thorne felt a little anxious, yet he determined to visit the island, and discover if it was really unoccupied.

'There won't be any wind before to-morrow morning,' he observed to Mr. Statten; 'and if you get a boat ready we'll go ashore.'

That was soon done, and Jack Clewlin took the bow oar.

They presently passed a low point, and on its farther side discovered a narrow creek that seemed to run some distance inland.

'We'll follow it up,' the captain said. 'At the same time, men,' he added thoughtfully, 'keep your eyes wide open, so as not to fall into any trap. Although the Dutch own most of the land hereabouts, their Malay subjects are the most notorious pirates on earth.'

'Ay, ay, sir,' the crew returned.

The creek narrowed down to no more than a couple of fathoms across, and seemed to terminate in dense foliage. But on reaching that the men could perceive a large lake-like stretch of water beyond. There was no difficulty in pushing the boat through the leafy screen. Then, taking to the oars, the men pulled ahead, until a native village of some size suddenly appeared.

The houses were erected on platforms several feet over the water, and those on shore were similarly built. People moved about the beach, women being apparently the chief workers, and for some seconds the boat remained unseen.

'Backwater all,' the captain whispered. 'We've struck a hornets' nest, and haven't even a revolver handy.'

The next moment, however, much shouting ashore announced the discovery of the intruders, and many dusky figures hastened to the water's edge.

The captain, believing that a hasty retreat might arouse the suspicions or the contempt of the natives, ordered a stoppage. As long as no canoes came alongside, the people might suppose the visitors were armed.

Most of the islanders were nearly naked. Some of them, however, wore shirts, and others tight-fitting pantaloons, while one of apparent importance was dressed in loose dirty-looking Eastern robes. He stood apart, and beckoned to the captain to approach, and also hailed him in the Dutch language, which, of course, no one in the boat understood.

Captain Thorne, standing erect in the stern sheets, signified his ignorance of that tongue, whereupon the stranger, much to the astonishment of his hearers, inquired in fairly intelligible English if the visitors were British born.

'Yes,' the old man replied. 'I hope we have not given offence. We thought the island was uninhabited, and are seeking for fresh water.'

'Where you shippee?' was the next query.

'At anchor outside.'

'Me savvee plenty. S'pose you come 'shore. Me likee Englishman, but Dutchman no good. He plenty shoot bibbee, women, an' leedle boy an' girl. You come 'shore.'

'Ah,' the skipper suavely returned, 'I no likee stop long from my ship. You see, sun him nearly go sleep now, an' me no find way back. S'pose you come with me, I give plenty biskit and chop-chop, all same Singapore.'

Much to his surprise the invitation was promptly accepted. The boat's nose touched the beach, and without the slightest sign of hesitation or suspicion the Malay took a seat in the stern.

Captain Thorne was quite aware that he and his companions were completely at the mercy of the people, who looked a thoroughly unprincipled crowd, and to whose ferocity many a defenceless and unsuspecting crew may have owed their destruction. He was not long left in doubt respecting the character of those among whom he had fallen. Before the boat had again got under way many canoes, as if by magic, had been dragged from their places among the adjacent scrub, and only the sharp, resounding voice of their leader prevented the crews from making short work of their victims.

'You no 'fraid of them,' the Malay exclaimed. 'Me all same big man next to the chief. Me likee you, an' go Singapore. S'pose dem feller no go 'shore, me kill them. Savvee?' He sang out again, and the whole fleet of canoes disappeared.

On reaching the overhanging screen of foliage, a clear passage for the boat was kept by many canoes, and on clearing it others were seen to be paddling out toward the 'Alert.'

In the most natural manner Captain Thorne laughed and chatted with his guest, a dark-skinned, low-browed, keen-eyed, and active Malay of about thirty years.

He also readily answered every question respecting the size of the barque, her armament, and the strength of the crew.

The stranger appeared satisfied, and the skipper, having duly impressed on his hearer the fighting capabilities of the 'Alert,' felt almost confident that he would yet emerge unscathed from what seemed a somewhat awkward position.

Escape unharmed he did, and in a most extraordinary and praiseworthy manner.