King o' the Beach Part 37

"Oh, I see; fly ticky-ticky," cried Carey. "Honey?"

"Good ticky-ticky," said the black, licking his fingers and smacking his lips. "Come 'long."

"Yes, I'll come," cried the boy, and the next minute he was over the side and in the boat, where half-a-dozen more of the blacks were waiting and received him with a frantic shout of delight, flouris.h.i.+ng their paddles, which they plunged into the smooth water of the lagoon as soon as Black Jack had dropped to his place; and away they went, with the latter standing up beside Carey.

As they were pa.s.sing round the bows, Bostock's head suddenly appeared over the side, and at a sign from the boy the blacks ceased rowing.

"Where away, lad?" said the old sailor.

"Ash.o.r.e, hunting wallabies or something."

"I say, young gentleman, is it safe to go alone with those chaps?"

"Oh, yes; there's nothing to mind. Haven't I been fis.h.i.+ng with 'em lots of times?"

"Yes, but that was on the water, my lad," said Bostock, shaking his head.

"Bob--Bob, come along; kedge wallaby--snak.u.m--ticky-ticky."

"Who's to do the cooking if I do?" growled Bostock.

"Cookie, come kedge ticky-ticky."

"No. I say, my lad, keep your weather eye open."

"Both of them, Bob. I'll take care."

The paddles were plunged in again, and the boat glided onward.

"I don't half like it," muttered Bostock. "That there boy's too wentersome. S'pose they got hungry--they most always are--and took it into their heads to make a fire. Ugh! They aren't to be trusted, but I b'leeve they all like him and would be precious sorry when they got back and Old King Cole asked where he was. There'd be a row and a bit o'

shooting, I dessay, for it's amazing, that it is, amazing, the way the old vagabone has took to our lad. But I don't like his going off with 'em, and with nothing better than a bit of a toothpick of a knife.

Wouldn't be long before he got hold of a club, though, I know."

Bostock went back to his galley shaking his head, and at the same time Carey was mentally shaking his own.

"An old stupid," he said. "I wish he hadn't said that. Just as if it was likely that Black Jack or either of the others would hurt me without Old King Cole was there to say 'Css!' to them and hound them on.

Wouldn't hurt me, would you, Black Jack?" he said aloud.

"Hey? Wood hurt um?" cried the man, and he pulled the boy on one side, dropped on his knees, and began to feel about the bottom of the canoe with his hand. "No hurt."

"No; all right now," said Carey, smiling. "Here, Jack.u.m, I want to learn to throw the boomerang. Give me hold."

The boy made a s.n.a.t.c.h at the crescent-moon-like weapon, and got hold; but the black seized it too, shouting, "No, no, no!" and his companions began to shout what sounded like a protest.

"No, no throw. Go bottom."

"I should make it come back."

The black grinned knowingly.

"Jack.u.m show soon. Jack.u.m fro."

He sent the strange weapon flying on before them, and cleverly caught it as it returned; but then he stuck it in his girdle again, shaking his head.

"Go bottom," he said.

Carey was disappointed, but his attention was taken up directly by something more exciting, for as the canoe glided along, with the outrigger literally skipping over the water, the boy suddenly became conscious of what seemed for the moment like another canoe of nearly the same size, sunk beneath the surface and gliding along at the same speed.

For the moment he thought it must be the canoe's shadow somehow cast beside them, but the next moment he grasped the fact that it was a great fish, probably a shark, which had come in through the opening with the last high tide, and was now on the prowl.

There was no doubt about it, for the blacks had seen it, and they laughed as they saw their pa.s.senger shrink to the other side and lean over towards the outrigger.

The next moment Jack.u.m drew his attention with a touch, and began making hideous grimaces at the creature, while the others began to shout and were apparently calling it every opprobrious name that their limited vocabulary supplied.

But the monster, which must have been some fourteen feet long, only rose a little so that his black triangular fin appeared above the surface.

Jack.u.m grinned, stooped, and picked up one of a bundle of spears which lay along at the side, and handed it to the boy, signing to him to stand up in the boat.

It was not much of a weapon, being only a straight bamboo sapling with an ill-made point hardened in the fire.

"Gib big poke," cried the black.

"If I don't they'll think I'm afraid," thought Carey; so he seized the spear, feeling not the slightest inclination for his task, and drove the point down on the shark's back.

It was an unlucky stroke, for, instead of penetrating as intended, it glided over the slimy skin, while, overbalancing himself in consequence of meeting with no resistance, Carey to his horror found himself following his stroke, and he would have plunged overboard had not a muscular black arm darted like a great snake about his waist and plucked him back. For a moment or two the boy gasped, but he recovered himself directly.

"Shake hands, Jack.u.m. Thankye."

The black grinned, and took the extended hand for a few seconds.

"Let's try again," said Carey; but the shark had sunk down out of sight.

"Ticklum," said the black, grinning. "Come soon."

Carey was disappointed, for he wanted to redeem his character, though it was not an easy task to try and emulate the blacks with their own weapons. But Jack.u.m was right; it was not long before the great fish re-appeared, now on the other side of the canoe, rising slowly till its fin was above water, its intention being apparently to pick one of the paddlers out for a meal.

His appearance there, however, was not approved of, the blacks by their actions showing that they considered it highly probable that their visitor would get entangled with the bamboos of the outrigger and capsize the boat.

Jack.u.m took the lead by s.n.a.t.c.hing the spear from Carey, evidently considering that the position required skilled instead of amateur manipulation; and, as his fellows turned their paddles into choppers and struck heavily at the shark's back, Jack.u.m drove his spear down with all his might.

It went home in spite of its clumsy make and miserable point, for in a moment it was twitched out of the strong hands that held it, the water came flying in a shower over Carey, consequent upon a tremendous blow delivered by the fish's tail; then there was a violent eddy at the boat's side, a great shovel-shaped head rose, and the monster shot out of the water, rising several feet and falling with a crash across the main boom of the outrigger, taking it down lower and lower, while Carey clung to the other side of the boat. The water came creeping in over the lower side, and they would, he felt, be taken down and lie at the mercy of the enemy the blacks had tried to destroy.

In rushed the water faster and faster, and Carey looked towards the sh.o.r.e to see how far it was to swim, when all at once the weight glided off the great bamboo, which rose quickly, the boat was level again, but half full of water, and the blacks chattered and grinned with delight, as they began shovelling the water out on both sides with their paddles.

Jack.u.m used his hands, but stopped short directly after to point.

"Tick.u.m, tick.u.m. Mumkull," he cried, and Carey made out the spear-shaft performing some strange gyrations some twenty yards away, before it once more disappeared.

As Carey owned afterwards to the doctor and Bostock, he still felt a little white, and his heart was beating heavily. But it calmed down rapidly as he felt that the worst that was to happen to him was to feel his legs wet until the sun had dried his trousers and boots, while the blacks chattered away, taking it as an every-day occurrence, rapidly emptying the boat, and once more in high glee paddling hard for the sh.o.r.e, where the great enjoyments of the day were to begin.