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It looked as if you might find one of them, and then again you might not. "Ever been on any of 'em?" he asked. I hadn't and Kamelillo didn't know, but looked as if he might have swallowed one without remembering it. "Nor I," says Craney, "but I know there's likely to be natives when the islands are sizable." "These might be only coral circles," I says.
Not as de Pacific Ocean, hein?" I allowed there was difference between me and the Pacific. Kreps got his tin cans in, and I put the boat off. Kamelillo was spreading the cat-sail and had no opinion. Veronica came flapping over the rail with a squawk, and lit on Kamelillo, and fell into the bottom of the boat.
Now we followed Kamelillo to a great room, where it seemed the king held audiences and gave out laws and justice.
I took Kamelillo too, who wanted to go to sea again, but Kreps stayed where he was. On the day the Good Sister sailed, Sadler came aboard with a valise in his hand, and after him, carrying a valise, was Irish, and after Irish was an old Burmese servant of Fu Shan's that I used to see sweeping the porch, whose name was Maya Dala. "I'm going along," says Sadler, and Irish says, "Soime here."
He'd sit with his cigar tilted up in one corner of his mouth, and his hat tilted forward, and whittle sticks. He'd talk with anybody, but mostly with me and Kamelillo, whom he appeared to be asking for information. Kamelillo knew island dialects about the same as he did English, but wasn't much for conversation.
I hired five messengers and invited the candidates to a congress. I says: "'Not more'n ten to each party. And they came. "Kamelillo's a good enough interpreter, only he's sort of condensed. If a man makes a speech of half an hour, Kamelillo gives a grunt to cover most of it, and then he states what he guesses is the point of the rest. But he did well enough.
But I liked him. I had no objection to the Anaconda either, except that she went to the bottom of the Pacific without any argument about that, and left me stranded on a little island there along with Kreps, and a hen named Veronica, and a Kanaka named Kamelillo. There was a fourth that got stranded there too.
You come back, and I'll make you heir to the throne." But I didn't hanker for Craney's throne. The last I saw of him for that time was bidding him good-bye on the beach. He appeared to have most of the public to carry up his cargo, and he appeared to be popular. Kamelillo stayed with him as interpreter.
If anybody else from now on claims he's a monarch in these regions, he shall be skinned and melted. And they all cried: 'Hoi! Hoi! or words to that effect. They were unanimous. Kamelillo said they 'liked it good." Craney was silent a while, and I didn't say much. I didn't know how to get along with monarchs, anyway.
Veronica belonged to the ship, but had never been cooked, being thin and stringy; and Kamelillo was a silent, sulky Kanaka that had lived up and down the Pacific, and harpooned whales, and been shipwrecked now and then, and was sometimes drunk and sometimes starved, and had no opinion on these things, except that he'd rather be drunk than starved.
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