CANOEING ON THE SEA—A MYSTERIOUS NIGHT-SURPRISE AND SUDDEN FLIGHT.

At first the voyagers paddled over the glassy sea in almost total silence.

Nigel was occupied with his own busy thoughts; speculating on the probable end and object of their voyage, and on the character, the mysterious life, and unknown history of the man who sat in front of him wielding so powerfully the great double-bladed paddle. Van der Kemp himself was, as we have said, naturally quiet and silent, save when roused by a subject that interested him. As for Moses, although quite ready at any moment to indulge in friendly intercourse, he seldom initiated a conversation, and Spinkie, grasping the mast and leaning against it with his head down, seemed to be either asleep or brooding over his sorrows. Only a few words were uttered now and then when Nigel asked the name of a point or peak which rose in the distance on either hand. It seemed as if the quiescence of sea and air had fallen like a soft mantle on the party and subdued them into an unusually sluggish frame of mind.

They passed through the Sunda Straits between Sumatra and Java—not more at the narrowest part than about thirteen miles wide—and, in course of time, found themselves in the great island-studded archipelago beyond.

About noon they all seemed to wake up from their lethargic state. Van der Kemp laid down his paddle, and, looking round, asked Nigel if he felt tired.

"Not in the least," he replied, "but I feel uncommonly hungry, and I have just been wondering how you manage to feed when at sea in so small a craft."

"Ho! ho!" laughed Moses, in guttural tones, "you soon see dat—I 'spose it time for me to get out de grub, massa?"

"Yes, Moses—let's have it."

The negro at once laid down his steering paddle and lifted a small square hatch or lid in the deck which was rendered watertight by the same means as the lid in front already described. From the depths thus revealed he extracted a bird of some sort that had been shot and baked the day before. Tearing off a leg he retained it and handed the remainder to Nigel.

"Help you'self, Massa Nadgel, an' pass 'im forid."

Without helping himself he passed it on to Van der Kemp, who drew his knife, sliced off a wing with a mass of breast, and returned the rest.

"Always help yourself before passing the food in future," said the hermit; "we don't stand on ceremony here."

Nigel at once fell in with their custom, tore off the remaining drumstick and began.

"Biskit," said Moses, with his mouth full, "an' look out for Spinkie."

He handed forward a deep tray of the sailor's familiar food, but Nigel was too slow to profit by the warning given, for Spinkie darted both hands into the tray and had stuffed his mouth and cheeks full almost before a man could wink! The negro would have laughed aloud, but the danger of choking was too great; he therefore laughed internally—an operation which could not be fully understood unless seen. "'Splosions of Perboewatan," may suggest the thing.

Sorrow, grief—whatever it was that habitually afflicted that monkey—disappeared for the time being, while it devoted itself heart and soul to dinner.

Feelings of a somewhat similar kind animated Nigel as he sat leaning back with his mouth full, a biscuit in one hand, and a drumstick in the other, and his eyes resting dreamily on the horizon of the still tranquil sea, while the bright sun blazed upon his already bronzed face.

To many men the fierce glare of the equatorial sun might have proved trying, but Nigel belonged to the salamander type of humanity and enjoyed the great heat. Van der Kemp seemed to be similarly moulded, and as for Moses, he was in his native element—so was Spinkie.

Strange as it may seem, sea-birds appeared to divine what was going on, for several specimens came circling round the canoe with great outstretched and all but motionless wings, and with solemn sidelong glances of hope which Van der Kemp evidently could not resist, for he flung them scraps of his allowance from time to time.

"If you have plenty of provisions on board, I should like to do that too," said Nigel.

"Do it," returned the hermit. "We have plenty of food for some days, and our guns can at any time replenish the store. I like to feed these creatures," he added, "they give themselves over so thoroughly to the enjoyment of the moment, and seem to be grateful. Whether they are so or not, of course, is matter of dispute. Cynics will tell us that they only come to us and fawn upon us because of the memory of past favours and the hope of more to come. I don't agree with them."

"Neither do I," said Nigel, warmly. "Any man who has ever had to do with dogs knows full well that gratitude is a strong element of their nature. And it seems to me that the speaking eyes of Spinkie, to whom I have just given a bit of biscuit, tell of a similar spirit."

As he spoke, Nigel was conveying another piece of biscuit to his own mouth, when a small brown hand flashed before him, and the morsel, in the twinkling of an eye, was transferred to the monkey's already swollen cheek—whereat Moses again became suddenly "'splosive" and red, as well as black in the face, for his capacious mouth was inordinately full as usual.

Clear water, from one of the casks, and poured into a tin mug, washed down their cold collation, and then, refreshed and reinvigorated, the trio resumed their paddles, which were not again laid down till the sun was descending towards the western horizon. By that time they were not far from a small wooded islet near the coast of Java, on which Van der Kemp resolved to spend the night.

During the day they had passed at some distance many boats and praus and other native vessels, the crews of which ceased to row for a few moments, and gazed with curiosity at the strange craft which glided along so swiftly, and seemed to them little more than a long plank on the water, but these took no further notice of our voyagers. They also passed several ships—part of that constant stream of vessels which pass westward through those straits laden with the valuable teas and rich silks of China and Japan. In some cases a cheer of recognition, as being an exceptional style of craft, was accorded them, to which the hermit replied with a wave of the hand—Moses and Nigel with an answering cheer.

There is something very pleasant in the rest which follows a day of hard and healthful toil. Our Maker has so ordained it as well as stated it, for is it not written, "The sleep of the labouring man is sweet"? and our travellers experienced the truth of the statement that night in very romantic circumstances.

The small rocky islet, not more than a few hundred yards in diameter, which they now approached had several sheltered sandy bays on its shore, which were convenient for landing. The centre was clothed with palm-trees and underwood, so that fuel could be procured, and cocoa-nuts.

"Sometimes," said the hermit, while he stooped to arrange the fire, after the canoe and cargo had been carried to their camping-place at the edge of the bushes,—"sometimes it is necessary to keep concealed while travelling in these regions, and I carry a little spirit-lamp which enables me to heat a cup of tea or coffee without making a dangerous blaze; but here there is little risk in kindling a fire."

"I should not have thought there was any risk at all in these peaceful times," said Nigel, as he unstrapped his blanket and spread it on the ground under an overhanging bush.

"There are no peaceful times among pirates," returned the hermit; "and some of the traders in this archipelago are little better than pirates."

"Where I puts your bed, massa?" asked Moses, turning his huge eyes on his master.

"There—under the bush, beside Nigel."

"An' where would you like to sleep, Massa Spinkie?" added the negro, with a low obeisance to the monkey, which sat on the top of what seemed to be its favourite seat—a watercask.

Spinkie treated the question with calm contempt, turned his head languidly to one side, and scratched himself.

"Unpurliteness is your k'racter from skin to marrow, you son of a insolent mother!" said Moses, shaking his fist, whereat Spinkie, promptly making an O of his mouth, looked fierce.

The sagacious creature remained where he was till after supper, which consisted of another roast fowl—hot this time—and ship's-biscuit washed down with coffee. Of course Spinkie's portion consisted only of the biscuit with a few scraps of cocoa-nut. Having received it he quietly retired to his native wilds, with the intention of sleeping there, according to custom, till morning; but his repose was destined to be broken, as we shall see.

After supper, the hermit, stretching himself on his blanket, filled an enormous meerschaum, and began to smoke. The negro, rolling up a little tobacco in tissue paper, sat down, tailor-wise, and followed his master's example, while our hero—who did not smoke—lay between them, and gazed contemplatively over the fire at the calm dark sea beyond, enjoying the aroma of his coffee.

"From what you have told me of your former trading expeditions," said Nigel, looking at his friend, "you must have seen a good deal of this archipelago before you took—excuse me—to the hermit life."

"Ay—a good deal."

"Have you ever travelled in the interior of the larger islands?" asked Nigel, in the hope of drawing from him some account of his experiences with wild beasts or wild men—he did not care which, so long as they were wild!

"Yes, in all of them," returned the hermit, curtly, for he was not fond of talking about himself.

"I suppose the larger islands are densely wooded?" continued Nigel interrogatively.

"They are, very."

"But the wood is not of much value, I fancy, in the way of trade," pursued our hero, adopting another line of attack which proved successful, for Van der Kemp turned his eyes on him with a look of surprise that almost forced him to laugh.

"Not of much value in the way of trade!" ............