"Do you mean the ship, or here with the boat?"
"Here with the boat," said the Englishman, holding out his hand.
"Till our party comes back," said Jem.
"I may see you again," said the Englishman; and shaking hands, he said a few words to his companion, and then began to wade ash.o.r.e.
The savage smiled and shook hands in turn, after which he patted Don on the shoulder again.
"My pakeha," he said, sharply; "Maori pakeha--my."
He followed his leader; and Don and Jem watched them till they disappeared amongst the abundant growth.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
DON"S DECISION.
"It"s tempting, Jem," said Don.
"Yes, Mas" Don; and it"s untempting, too. I had a book once about manners and customs of foreign parts, but it didn"t say things so plain as you"ve found "em here."
"Yes, I"m afraid it won"t do, Jem. Even if we got away from the ship, it might be to a life that would be worse."
"That"s it, sir, as I said afore, "out of the frying-pan into the fire."
Wonder how long they"ll be "fore they come back."
"Not till sundown. I say, shall we try it or sha"n"t we?"
Jem scratched his head, and seemed to be hesitating.
"I don"t know what to say, Jem. If they treated us well on board, I should be disposed to say let"s put up with our life till we get back home."
"But then they don"t treat us well, Mas" Don. I don"t grumble to you, but it"s a reg"lar dog"s life I lead; bully and cuss and swear at you, and then not even well fed."
"But we are to be paid for it, Jem," said Don, bitterly.
"Paid, Mas" Don!" replied Jem, contemptuously. "What paying will make up for what we go through?"
"And I suppose we should have prize-money if we fought and took a French ship."
"But then we"re sent right out here, Mas" Don, where there"s no French ships to fight; and if there were, the prize-money is shared among them as aren"t killed."
"Of course."
"Well, how do we know as we shouldn"t be killed? No, Mas" Don, they don"t behave well to us, and I want to get home again, and so do you."
"Yes, Jem."
"P"r"aps it"s cowardly, and they"ll call it desertion."
"Yes, Jem."
"But we sha"n"t be there to hear "em call it so."
"No, Jem."
"Therefore it don"t matter, Mas" Don; I"ve thought this all over hundreds o" times when you"ve been asleep."
"And I"ve thought it over, Jem, hundreds of times when you"ve been asleep."
"There you go again, sir, taking the ideas out of a man"s brain. You shouldn"t, Mas" Don. I always play fair with you."
"Yes, of course you do."
"Well, then, you ought to play fair with me. Now look here, Mas" Don,"
continued Jem, seating himself on the gunwale of the boat, so as to let his bare feet hang in the water.
""Ware sharks, Jem," said Don quickly.
Jem was balanced on the edge, and at those words he threw himself backward with his heels in the air, and after he had struggled up with some difficulty, he stood rubbing his head.
"Where "bouts--where "bouts, sir?"
"I did not see a shark, Jem, but the place swarms with them, and I thought it was a risk."
"Well, I do call that a trick," grumbled Jem. "Hit my nut such a whack, I did, and just in the worst place."
"Better than having a leg torn off, Jem. Well, what were you going to say?"
"Bottom of the boat"s nearly knocked it all out of my head," said Jem, rubbing the tender spot. "What I meant to say was that I was stolen."
"Well, I suppose we may call it so."
"Stolen from my wife, as I belongs to."
"Yes, Jem."
"And you belongs to your mother and your Uncle Josiah, so you was stolen, too."
"Yes, Jem, if you put it in that way, I suppose we were."
"Well, then," said Jem triumphantly, "they may call it cowardly, or desertion, or what they like; but what I say is this, a man can"t be doing wrong in taking stolen goods back to them as they belong to."
"No, Jem, I s"pose not."
"Very well then, Mas" Don; the question is this--Will you or won"t you?"