The captain of the steamer stopped by where I was watching the flying fish fizz out of the blue-ink-like water, skim along for some distance, and drop in again, often, I believe, to be snapped up by some bigger fish; and he gave me a poke in the shoulder with one finger, so hard, that it hurt.

“Yes?” I said, for he stood looking hard in my face, while I looked back harder in his, for it seemed such a peculiar way of addressing one, and his manner was more curious still.

He was naturally a smooth-faced man with a very browny-yellow skin, and he kept on passing the finger with which he had poked me over first one cheek and then over the other, just as if he were shaving himself without soap.

Then his speech seemed more peculiar than his manner, for he repeated my one word, only instead of pronouncing it yes, he turned it into yuss.

He looked so comic and puzzled that I smiled, and the smile became a laugh.

I was sorry directly after, because it seemed rude to one who had been very civil to me ever since we left Kingston Harbour.

“’Tain’t nothing to laugh at, young feller,” he said, frowning.  “I’ve been talking to him yonder, and I can’t make nothing of him.  He’s a re-lay-tive of yours, isn’t he?”

“Yes; my uncle,” I replied.

“Well, I’m afraid he don’t know what he’s cut out for himself, and I think I ought to tell you, so as you may talk to him and bring him to his senses.”

“There’s no need,” I said, quickly.

“Oh, yes, there is, my lad.  He don’t know what he’s got before him, and it’s right that you should.  He’s going shooting, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Nattralist?”

“Yes.”

“Well, he don’t know what the parts are like where he’s going.  Do you know what fevers is?”

“Oh, yes,” I replied; “I’ve heard of them often.”

“Well, the coast yonder’s where they’re made, my lad.  Natur’s got a big workshop all along there, and she makes yaller ones, and black ones; scarlet, too, I dessay, though I never see none there that colour.”

“Uncle’s a doctor,” I said, “and he’ll know all about that.”

“But he’s going, he tells me, to shoot birds in the forests and up the rivers, and means to skin ’em, and he won’t do it.”

“Why not?” I said.

“Why not?  Because if the fevers don’t stop you both, the Injuns will; and if they don’t, you’ll get your boat capsized in the rivers or along the coast, or you’ll get lost in the woods and never be heerd of again.”

“Uncle’s an old, experienced traveller,” I said, “and has been a great deal in South America.”

“You warn’t with him there, was you?”

“No,” I said; “but I was with him in the East Indian Islands.”

“Then you tell him to stop about the West Indy Islands.  He may get some birds there, but he won’t if he goes to the coast yonder.  You tell him I say so.”

“What’s the use?” I said.  “Uncle has made his plans.”

“Oh, yes, and he thinks he’s going to do wonders with that cranky cockboat.”

He turned and nodded his head contemptuously at our good-sized boat lashed on the deck amidships.

“It was the best he could get in Port Royal Harbour,” I said, “and all the better for being rather small.”

“Why?” said the captain.

“Easier to manage.  We can go up the rivers in her, or sail along the coast.”

“You’ll get snagged in the rivers, and pitched into the sea if you try to coast along.  Oh, here he is!”

For at that moment Uncle Dick, looking particularly eager and inquiring, came up to where we stood.

“Well, captain,” he said, “having a word with my nephew about our boat?”

“That’s so, sir,” was the reply, “and about that venture of yours.  You take my advice, now, and just go from port to port with me, and you can buy all you want for a few dollars; and that’ll be better than going up country and catching fevers.  There’s lots o’ bird-skins to be bought.”

Uncle Dick laughed good-humouredly.

“Why, captain,” he said, “I might just as well have stopped in London and bought a few bird-skins down by the docks.”

“A deal better, doctor.  You don’t know what you’re cutting out for yourself.”

“We should come off badly for natural history specimens, captain, if people followed your advice.”

“Quite well enough, doctor.  I don’t see much good in stuffed birds.”

“Ah, well, captain,” said my uncle, “we will not argue about that.  You land us and our boat where I said.”

“Do you know what sort of a place it is, sir?”

“Pretty well,” replied my uncle.  “I shall know better when we reach it.”

“All right, sir.  You’re my passenger, and I’ll keep to my bargain.  But don’t you blame me if anything goes wrong.”

“I never shall, believe me,” said my uncle.

“You won’t,” said the captain, and he walked aft, shaking his head as if our case was hopeless.

“Our friend is not very encouraging, Nat,” said my uncle.  “He believes that he knows better than we do, but I think we shall manage all the same.  At any rate, we’ll try.”

“How far are we from the coast?” I asked.

“Not above a day’s run,” said my uncle; “so have all your traps ready for putting in the boat at any moment.”

“Everything is ready, uncle,” I said.

“That’s right.  I shall be glad to get ashore and to work.”

“Not more glad than I shall be, uncle,” I said.  “I’m sick of being cooped up on board ship with this skipper ­there, he’s at it again.”

The voice of the captain in a furious passion abusing someone, followed by the sound of a blow and a yelp such as a dog would give when kicked, made Uncle Dick frown.

“The brute!” he muttered.  “How he does knock that poor lad about.”

“It’s shameful, uncle,” I said, passionately, “if we stop on board much longer I shall tell him he’s what you said.”

“No, hold your tongue, Nat,” said my uncle.  “We have no right to interfere.  He has often made my blood boil.  Ah! don’t laugh.  I mean feel hot, sir.”

“I wasn’t going to laugh, uncle,” I said.  “It makes me wonder, though, how boys can want to come to sea.”

“All captains are not like our friend yonder,” said Uncle Dick.  “But it seems to me that he’s a tyrant to everyone on board.  Who’s being bullied now?”

For just then sharp words were being exchanged, and a gruff voice cried: 

“Do.  You hit me, and skipper or no skipper, I’ll give it you back with interest!”

“What! you mutinous dog!” shouted the captain.  “Here, boy, go down and fetch my revolver from the cabin.”

“Bah!” came in a loud voice.  “You daren’t use it.  If you did, the crew would put you in irons.”

The ship’s carpenter came by where we were stood, scowling fiercely at us both, walked to the forecastle hatch, and went below.

“Yes, Nat,” said my uncle, “I think we shall be happier out in the woods.  Don’t you wish we had Ebo here?”

“I’ve often wished it, uncle,” I said.  “But perhaps we may pick up just such a fellow out yonder.”

“Such pieces of luck don’t happen twice to the same people.  Hullo, here’s poor Doldrums.  Well, my lad, in trouble again?”

The ship’s boy, a sallow, dirty-looking lad of about eighteen, but stunted and, dwarfed for his age, came shuffling by us, to follow the carpenter, and he held one hand to his eye and spoke in answer with his face half averted.

“Trouble again, sir?” said the poor fellow, half piteously, half in anger; “I aren’t never been out of it since we sailed.”

“What have you been doing?  Here, let me look at your face.”

“Oh, never mind that, sir,” said the lad, shrinking.

“But I do mind,” said my uncle.  “Let me see.”

Uncle Dick did not wait for the boy to take down his hand, but drew it away, to show that the eye was red and swollen up.

“Did the captain do that?” I said.

The lad nodded, and his forehead filled with lines.

“What had you been about?”

“Nothing, sir,” said the lad bitterly.

“Then what had you left undone?”

“I dunno, sir.  I try all day long to do what the skipper wants, but it’s always kicks when it arn’t blows; and when it’s neither he’s always swearing at me.  I wish I was dead!” he cried passionately.

“Stop here,” cried Uncle Dick, sharply, for the lad was moving off, with his eye covered up again.

Regularly cowed, the lad stopped short, flinching the while.

“Don’t do that,” said Uncle Dick.  “I was not going to strike you.”

“No, sir, but everybody else does, ’cept the carpenter.  But I don’t care now; I shall go overboard and end it.”

“Why?” said Uncle Dick.

“Why, sir?  What’s the good o’ living such a life as this?”

“This ship is not the whole world, my lad, and all the people are not like the captain.”

The lad looked half wonderingly at my uncle, and then turned to me with so pitiful a look that I felt ready to take the poor fellow’s part the next time he was in trouble.

“Everyone nearly seems the same to me,” he said drearily.  “I don’t know why I come to sea.  Thought it was all going to be adventures and pleasure, and it’s all kicks and blows, just because I’m a boy.”

The poor fellow looked enviously at me, and sniffing loudly, walked on.

“It ought to be stopped, uncle,” I said.  “The poor fellow’s life is made miserable.”

“Yes, Nat.  It is terrible to see how one man can make other people’s lives a burden to them.  I’m a regular tyrant to you sometimes.”

I laughed.

“Why, Aunt Sophy says you spoil me,” I cried.

“Well, we will not argue about that, my boy,” said my uncle; “we’ve too much to think about.  In twenty-four hours we shall be afloat with our boat to ourselves; and the sooner the better, for if she’s out of the water much longer we shall have her leaky.”

He walked to where our half-decked boat lay in its chocks, with all her tackle carefully lashed in place, and I could not help feeling proud of our possession, as I thought of the delights of our river trips to come, and the days when we should be busy drying and storing skins on board, for it was planned out that we were to make the rivers our highways as far as possible, and live on board, there being a snug cabin under the half-deck, while well-oiled sail-cloth was arranged to draw over the boom, which could be turned into the ridge pole of a roof, and shut in the after part of the boat, making all snug at night, or during a tropical downpour.

“She’s rather too big for us, Nat,” said my uncle, “and I hope they will have no accident when they lower her down.”

“Oh, I hope not, uncle,” I said.

“So do I, my boy, but they were clumsy enough in getting her on board.  However, we shall have troubles in plenty without inventing any.”

We stood together, leaning over the side and talking about our plans, which were to collect any new and striking birds that we could find, while specially devoting ourselves to shooting the quetzals, as they were called by the natives, the splendid trogons whose plumes were worn by the emperors of the past.

“And I’m not without hope, Nat,” said my uncle, “that in course of our journeys up in the mountains, in the parts which have not yet been explored, we may find the Cock of the Rocks.  I see no reason whatever why those birds should not inhabit suitable regions as far north as this.  It is hot enough in Central America, as hot as Brazil, and far hotter than Peru.”

“What about humming-birds, uncle,” I said.

“We shall find plenty, and perhaps several that have never before been collected; but we must not want ordinary specimens.  We must not overload ourselves, but get only what is choice.”

Our conversation was interrupted by the coming of the captain, who looked at us searchingly.

“Well, doctor,” he said; “been thinking it all over?”

“Yes,” said Uncle Dick, quietly.

“And you’re going to let me take you in to Belize?”

“Indeed I’m not,” said my uncle quietly.  “I made all my plans before I started, and explained to you before we sailed from Port Royal what I wished you to do.”

“Well, yes, you did say something about it.”

“The something was that you should drop me where I wished ­somewhere in Yucatan or on Mosquito Coast.”

“That’s right, doctor; you did.”

“Very well, then; according to your calculations at noon to-day, we shall be within sight of land about mid-day to-morrow.”

“Dessay we shall, among the cays and reefs and little bits of islands yonder.”

“Then you will fulfil your part of the agreement at mid-day.”

“Drop you and your boat out at sea?”

“Yes,” said Uncle Dick.

“I say; doctor, air you mad?”

“I hope not.”

“Well, I begin to think you must be, for this is about the most unheard-of thing a man could do.  You and this boy of yours have got to live.”

“Of course,” said my uncle.

“Well, what are you going to live on?”

“If I must explain, the stores contained in the cases you have of mine below.”

“Hah!” cried the captain; “well, that’s right, I suppose.  But what about fresh water?”

“There is the cask, and a little tank belonging to the boat.  They are both full, and we shall never be out of sight of land while on the coast.  Afterwards we shall be journeying up the different rivers.”

“But when you’ve eaten all your stores, what then, doctor?”

“I hope we shall never be in that condition,” said my uncle, “for we shall husband our stores as reserves, and live as much as we can upon the fish we catch and the birds we shoot.”

“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the captain.  “Going up the rivers, air you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’d better try and ketch the sea cows.  They’re big as elephants, and one o’ them’ll last you two, six months if she don’t go bad.”

“Thank you,” said my uncle, smiling; “but we shall be content with smaller deer than that.”

“Well, I guess I don’t like letting you go doctor,” said the captain.

“So it seems,” said my uncle quietly.  “Pray why?”

“Don’t seem fair to young squire here, for one thing.”

“Have you any other reason?” said my uncle.

“You two can’t manage a boat like that.”

“We have managed a bigger one before.  Any other reason?”

“Well, yes; you two’ll come to grief, and I don’t want to be brought to book for setting you adrift on about the maddest scheme I ever heerd tell of.”

“Ah, now we understand one another,” said my uncle, quietly.  “Well, you may set you mind at rest, sir.  I am the best judge of the risks to be run, and you will never be called to account for my actions.”

“Well, don’t blame me if you both find yourselves on your backs with fever.”

“Never fear, captain,” said my uncle.  “If it is calm in the morning, as soon as we are within sight of land ­”

“What land?”

“Any land on or off the coast, I shall be obliged by your getting my boat over the side, and the stores and chests out of the hold and cabin, so that we can get everything stowed away, then you can take us in tow, and I can cast off as soon as I like.”

“All right,” said the captain, and he went forward once more, while we two stayed on deck watching the wonderful sunset, till the great golden orange ball dipped down out of sight behind the clouds, which looked like ranges of mountains rising from some glorious shore.

We were not long afterwards made aware of the captain’s reason for going forward, his voice rising in angry bullying tones, and we soon found that he and the fierce carpenter were engaged in a furious quarrel, which ended as quickly as it began, the captain making his reappearance, driving the ship’s boy before him, and hastening the poor fellow’s sluggish, unwilling movements by now and then giving him a kick.