you! there wa'n't no schooner to be seen. That everlasting Lazarus had
put up a job on us, and had sneaked off in the night with the cook and
the Dutchman, and took our share of the pearls with him. I s'pose he'd
cal'lated to do it from the very first. Anyway, there we was, marooned
on that little two-for-a-cent island.

"The first day we didn't do much but cuss Lazarus up hill and down dale.
Hammond was the best at that kind of business ever I see. He invented
more'n four hundred new kind of names for the gang on the schooner, and
every one of 'em was brimstone-blue. We had fish lines in the shanty,
and there was plenty of water on the island, so we knew we wouldn't
starve to death nor die of thirst, anyhow.

"I've mentioned that 'twas hot in them parts? Well, that island was the
hottest of 'em all. Whew! Don't talk! And, more'n that, the weather was
the kind that makes you feel it's a barrel of work to live. First day
we fished and slept. Next day we fished less and slept more. Third day
'twas too everlasting hot even to sleep, so we set round in the shade
and fought flies and jawed each other. Main trouble was who was goin' to
git the meals. Land, how we did miss that Coolie cook!

"'W'y don't yer get to work and cook something fit to heat?' says
Hammond. ''Ere I broke my bloomin' back 'auling in the fish, and you
doing nothing but 'anging around and letting 'em dry hup in the 'eat.
Get to work and cook. Blimed if I ain't sick of these 'ere custard
apples!'

"'Go and cook yourself,' says I. 'I didn't sign articles to be cook for
no Johnny Bull!'