The Pirate Shark Part 10

"Up there, lads, up there inside the channel beyond the end o' the island. Eight fathom down, she is--down there among the rocks, and us up above. Fish tell no tales, lads, fish tell no tales! Old Jerry's the only man who knows--"

"How soon will any boats come out?" asked Mart, who had resolved to bother no more about the Pirate Shark, as he had a shrewd notion that Jerry was not quite right in the head. "Will they bring fruit?"

"Aye, lads, plenty o' that. But they'll not be out for an hour or two yet, not they! Time for mess, lads--eight bells, time for mess!"

The captain got his sights, to be worked out later, and joined them. As he did so, Jerry made the request that he be given sh.o.r.e leave, as he might want to go ash.o.r.e with any boats that came out. He had been here before on a trading trip, he said, and knew the natives in the village at the river mouth; so if he spent a day ash.o.r.e he could arrange for their hunting trip and make firm friends of the Malays.

"Why, of course!" smiled Captain Hollinger, as they went down to mess.

"You're a guest as far as I'm concerned, Jerry, so do as you please."

The old quartermaster nodded and no more was said on the subject. To the boys, it seemed that Jerry's desire to go ash.o.r.e was a good sign. Since he was willing to trust himself alone to the natives, it showed that on his previous visit he must have made friends with them. The boys had read and heard a good deal of how the more unscrupulous trading schooners treated the natives, and they perceived at once that Jerry's previous visits must have been made in peace and good will.

Mart Judson, indeed, inclined strongly to the opinion that the white-haired old quartermaster was slightly "bughouse," as he expressed it. As to the dynamite on board, he concluded that whether the Pirate Shark was an hallucination of the old man's brain or not, the explosive might come in useful in their diving operations. He gave no credence whatever to the story of the wrecked galleon out in the lagoon "eight fathom down."

What Bob thought in the matter did not appear, for although the freckled, blue-eyed chap seemed careless enough, in reality he was cautious in giving vent to any opinion whatever. He merely grunted in reply to Mart's arguments, that afternoon, and waved a hand beyond the island, to the place Jerry had indicated.

"Six fathom here, Mart, and Jerry says it's eight up there. There's a channel to the sea, there, and rocks pointing up. The channel would be apt to cut it out deeper, and twelve feet makes a lot o' difference."

Beyond that he would say nothing at all, though indeed he got small chance, for a few moments later they made out two Malay fis.h.i.+ng boats reaching out from the mouth of the river.

Behind them came others, approaching cautiously, and an hour later the yacht was surrounded by a dozen craft. All hands were on deck, but there was no need for any fears. When the leading boat approached cautiously, Jerry Smith stepped up on the rail, shouting something in a strange tongue, and without further hesitation the boat darted up to the ladder and gangway, which had been put over the side, with a large floating platform.

Contrary to the ideas which the boys had formed, the Malays looked anything but savages. They wore fez-like round caps, bright s.h.i.+rts, and sarongs or wrapped skirts of gay cloth, while all wore krisses of various patterns, and a few carried old flint-lock muskets.

"Tell them we'll let only ten at a time on deck," said Captain Hollinger to Jerry. Swanson was up forward, looking on with the men. Jerry repeated the order in Malay, and a moment later he was surrounded by a group of grinning, chattering, excited natives who plainly recognized him as an old friend.

Captain Hollinger had already ordered a case of trading goods broken out, and a few moments later the yacht was well supplied with bananas, pineapples, cocoanuts, rice and fresh fish. One of the Malays, who wore a resplendent sarong of crimson silk, Jerry introduced as the headman of the village; he was a rather dried-up looking man, but his face was intelligent and bright, and he shook hands all around in a hearty manner.

As Jerry was interpreting the captain's address to him, Mart noticed that one of the men next to him wore a kris without any sheath. Glancing at the weapon, he drew Bob's attention to it; the blade was flame-shaped, about three feet in length, and was inlaid with silver lines. Bob jerked the quartermaster's arm and pointed at the kris.

"Ask him if he'll sell it, Jerry!"

"Aye, lad, he'll sell it right enough. I'll ask him, and you get something he'd like--say, some kind o' weapon."

Bob darted off, returning with an old-fas.h.i.+oned Colt cap-revolver, which he had hanging on his stateroom wall as a souvenir. Mart laughed at sight of it, but to his surprise the Malay eagerly made the trade, and the kris was Bob's. Captain Hollinger examined it with some interest, and promptly made an offer through Jerry for a dozen more of the weapons, to keep as souvenirs.

"Better let that wait, sir," said the quartermaster. "It ain't best to be in too much hurry, Cap'n. When you've gone ash.o.r.e, after that there huntin' trip, sir, then's the time to trade for such stuff. Wait till they know as they're goin' to lose you, and you'll get bargains."

The wisdom of this was quite evident, so Captain Hollinger nodded. Then the quartermaster turned to the headman and spoke for some moments at length, after which he announced that he was going ash.o.r.e and would return to report to the captain in the morning. He said it would be necessary to consult men from other villages as to where tigers might be found, as well as to arrange for beaters and a party of hunters, but that all would be arranged that night or in the morning.

With this, Jerry went below, got some of his things together in a duffle-bag, and went over the ladder into the fis.h.i.+ng-prau, with a farewell wave of the hand at the boys and his other s.h.i.+pmates. The Malays put out their long oars, shouted a farewell to which the crew responded with cheers, and the dozen boats swept back toward the river.

"Well, we've got a pretty good crew now!" laughed the captain looking around at the decks. Their duties being over for the time being, the engine-room crew had come on deck, fraternizing with their brother Kanakas, and everyone, from old Borden to Mart and Bob, was busy stowing away fresh fruit, of which the supply was bountiful.

The boys examined Bob's silver-inlaid kris, with its carven handle of bone, and it was indeed a trophy worth carrying home. At mess that evening Bob's father announced his desire to take Joe Swanson with him on his initial hunting-trip, at which the burly mate was no little astonished.

"Well," he said, with a slow grin, "I'm not much on shootin', Cap'n, but I'll be mortal glad to stretch my legs ash.o.r.e. Who'll take charge o' the s.h.i.+p?"

"Well," smiled the captain, "I'll leave the boys in charge, with Jerry.

The quartermaster is capable, and he's going to start diving operations up the river. I want to see what things are like in the jungle before I'll take the boys hunting, as it's apt to be pretty dangerous."

"I dunno, sir," and Swanson frowned, staring at his plate. "I've heard a good bit about Jerry, and I wouldn't leave him--"

"Oh, nonsense!" Captain Hollinger laughed out, and the boys remembered the mate's protest before the voyage began that Jerry was "unlucky."

"I've heard about his piratical tendencies, but don't you worry, Mr.

Swanson. He's all right."

The mate shrugged his shoulders heavily and said no more. That evening the boys proffered a request that they be set ash.o.r.e on the island in the morning. Both were anxious to set foot on the sands, and to prowl about the place at their leisure, and as the island was clearly uninhabited, Captain Hollinger a.s.sented willingly. Mart decided to take the motion-picture machine along in order to try it out, and Bob later confided to him his intention to take along a rifle in case they saw anything to shoot at.

"Shucks, there's nothin' around here to shoot," returned Mart scornfully. "And 'specially on the island. Besides, your dad wouldn't stand for it."

"That's all right," grinned Bob. "I'll get one of those thirty-thirties out of the rack and slip her into the boat. Maybe we won't use it, and maybe we will. We might meet that Pirate Shark, you know!"

"Oh, shucks!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mart.

They breakfasted early the next morning, and as the captain wanted a message relayed to San Francisco, the boys sought the wireless house while Dailey and Borden and Yorke were getting a boat over the side.

After some persistent efforts, Mart finally raised an answer, and after looking it up in his blue-bound book, found that it came from a Dutch steamer of the Nederland line, and promptly got rid of his messages, which would be relayed by more powerful instruments to Manila and Honolulu. During this labor, Bob slipped away, and after Mart had reported to Captain Hollinger and secured his motion-picture camera, he found his chum waiting in the boat, where Dailey and Yorke, Borden and Birch were at the oars. Waving farewell to the s.h.i.+p, they moved away; Bob nudged Mart and pointed to a tarpaulin under the stern.

"There she is," he said mysteriously.

"What?"

"That rifle," reported Bob, chuckling. "We're off, old scout! I wish we'd meet that Pirate Shark o' Jerry's. I guess a thirty-thirty bullet would make him sick!"

"Huh!" grunted Mart, his eyes sweeping across the sunlit waters. "No chance!"

CHAPTER IX

THE BLACK FIN

The boys had fully intended removing their shoes and going ash.o.r.e in their bare feet, but as they started to do so, the men grinned and stopped them. Yorke, with his twisted mouth leering and his gray head streaming with perspiration, lay on his oar and gave them some advice.

"Young gem'men, don't go for to do them foolish things, not in these here seas! First place, that 'ere sand on the island will be hotter'n blazes. Then if ye go wadin' around ye'll get poisoned wi' coral, or ye'll step on little crabs ye can't see, but they'll get under your skin, like; or else ye'll find animiles what'll bore little round holes in your flesh, an' them kind o' things. It ain't safe, young gem'men."

At first the boys thought he was joking, but a glance at old Borden showed that Yorke had been in earnest.

"Don't ye do it," added that soft-voiced seaman, who was so much like Jerry in his ways. "Yorke's tellin' ye true, lads. Things ain't so nice as they looks on these islands, you can take your davy to that!"

At this juncture Daily and Birch also paused to rest. The boys had desisted from their object, and Birch spoke up, his one eye flaming queerly.

"Beggin' your pardon, young sirs, but be you a-goin' to hunt tigers wi'

the cap'n?" At the question all four men looked aft at the boys.

"Sure," rejoined Bob happily.