slightly, with her engines stopped. We lost our composure, and yelled
all together with excitement, 'We've been blown up.' A man in a white
helmet, on the bridge, cried, 'Yes! All right! all right!' and he nodded
his head, and smiled, and made soothing motions with his hand as though
at a lot of frightened children. One of the boats dropped in the water,
and walked towards us upon the sea with her long oars. Four Calashes
pulled a swinging stroke. This was my first sight of Malay seamen. I've
known them since, but what struck me then was their unconcern: they
came alongside, and even the bowman standing up and holding to our
main-chains with the boat-hook did not deign to lift his head for a
glance. I thought people who had been blown up deserved more attention.

"A little man, dry like a chip and agile like a monkey, clambered up. It
was the mate of the steamer. He gave one look, and cried, 'O boys--you
had better quit.'

"We were silent. He talked apart with the captain for a time,--seemed to
argue with him. Then they went away together to the steamer.

"When our skipper came back we learned that the steamer was the
_Sommerville_, Captain Nash, from West Australia to Singapore via
Batavia with mails, and that the agreement was she should tow us to
Anjer or Batavia, if possible, where we could extinguish the fire by
scuttling, and then proceed on our voyage--to Bankok! The old man seemed
excited. 'We will do it yet,' he said to Mahon, fiercely. He shook his
fist at the sky. Nobody else said a word.

"At noon the steamer began to tow. She went ahead slim and high, and
what was left of the Judea followed at the end of seventy fathom of
tow-rope,--followed her swiftly like a cloud of smoke with mastheads