"'No, no, no,' says he, shaking his head like it would come off, 'ooman
no wife. Wife there,' and he p'inted about directly opposite from my
way. 'Ooman,' he goes on, 'she no wife, she--'

"Just here the Malay come up from the fo'castle, grinning like a chessy
cat and hugging a fat jug of this here palm wine that natives make. I
don't know where he got it from--I thought Hammond and me had rummaged
that fo'castle pretty well--but, anyhow, there it was.

"Whiskers passed the jug to me and I handed it over to Hammond. He stood
up to make a speech.

"'Feller citizens,' says he, 'I rise to drink a toast. 'Ere's to the
beautchous Lobelia 'Ankins, and may she long hornament the lovely island
where she now--'

"The Malay at the wheel behind us gave an awful screech. We all turned
sudden, and there, standing on the companion ladder, with her head and
shoulders out of the hatch, was Lobelia 'Ankins, as large as life and
twice as natural.

"Hammond dropped the jug and it smashed into finders. We all stood
stock-still for a minute, like folks in a tableau. The half-breed
skipper stood next to me, and I snum if you couldn't see him shrivel up
like one of them things they call a sensitive plant.

"The tableau lasted while a feller might count five; then things
happened. Hammond and me dodged around the deckhouse; the Malays broke
and run, one up the main rigging, two down the fo'castle hatch and one