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It seemed a long time to one suffering from a parched throat, and the pale light of dawn was beginning to steal in through the broken opening and the cabin ports, when there was the click of a teacup on the deck, and Jackum said softly: "Cookey make billy boil. Car-ee tea." Crash! Down went the tray with the refreshing cup on the deck, and Bostock thrust his head through the broken light.
For a moment or two the boy gasped, but he recovered himself directly. "Shake hands, Jackum. 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."
Jackum turned to his companion and asked him, but it was evident that the man knew nothing, and Jackum stood for a moment or two thinking. "Doc-tor," he said at last, making a significant gesture downward. "Sleep um," and he shut his eyes and laid his face upon his hand. "No," said Carey. "Jackum go see."
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 Jackum 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.
"But it is bad. Big Dan mumkull kill. Shoot powder." "Jackum don't care fig," said the man, nonchalantly. "Jackum baal want be mumkull." "But you will be killed if you stop," said Carey, excitedly. The black laughed softly. "Jackum be mumkull, Jackum 'top? Car-ee no kill Jackum. Like Jackum lots. Give Jackum ticky-ticky." "You don't understand," cried Carey. "Big Dan will kill us all if we stop."
"Next to Bostock and the doctor, father, my best friend," said Carey, eagerly. "Then he is mine," said Mr Cranford. "Here's a canoe of savages off from the island," shouted the captain of the Chusan from the deck. "Does this mean a fight?" "Jackum boy come back," cried the black. "No shoot; all good boy. Jackum take you Big Dan island. Plenty shell, plenty copra, plenty old ship 'tuff.
"Jackum eat allum damper, allum ticky-ticky. Good!" cried the black, grinning. "Well, I couldn't ha' done it myself in the time," said Bostock. "Here, lay hold." He pointed to the partially demolished light, which the black seized and wrenched off, threw it down on the deck, and then, without hesitation, glided through, and dropped softly into the saloon cabin. "You go next, Bob."
Jackum took the lead by snatching 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, Jackum drove his spear down with all his might.
"Iss. Ship come," said Jackum, who had bounded up and inspected the vessel. "Jackum fess all aboy. Car-ee going fight him?" "No, no," cried the boy; "they must be friends," and, utterly worn out now, he broke down and hid his face. "Don't do that, dear lad," whispered Bostock. "Keep it up a bit longer, for I must leave you now. Jackum and I must go off in the whale-boat and pilot them inside.
"This is a good sight, dear boy." "Which of the blacks struck you that cowardly blow?" "Nay, nay, it warn't one of the black fellows, my lad, but Old King Cole himself." "But how? why what for?" "Don't you puzzle a chap with too many questions at once, my lad, for my head's a bit swimming." "Oh, Bob, my poor fellow! Here, Jackum, a bucket of water to bathe his head." "Bucketum waterum?
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