|On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedabmdrq
 

lmsman in a gentle tone.
The man in authority did not budge a hair's breadth. The
seacannie bent down a little from the height of the wheel
grating.
"I saw a boat," he murmured with something of the tender
obstinacy of a lover begging for a favour. "I saw a boat, O Haji
Wasub! Ya! Haji Wasub!"
The serang had been twice a pilgrim, and was not insensible to
the sound of his rightful title. There was a grim smile on his
face.
"You saw a floating tree, O Sali," he said, ironically.
"I am Sali, and my eyes are better than the bewitched brass thing
that pulls out to a great length," said the pertinacious
helmsman. "There was a boat, just clear of the easternmost
island. There was a boat, and they in her could see the ship on
the light of the west--unless they are blind men lost on the sea.
I have seen her. Have you seen her, too, O Haji Wasub?"
"Am I a fat white man?" snapped the serang. "I was a man of the
sea before you were born, O Sali! The order is to keep silence
and mind the rudder, lest evil befall the ship."
After these words he resumed his rigid aloofness. He stood, his
legs slightly apart, very stiff and straight, a little on one
side of the compass stand. His eyes travelled incessantly from
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|On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedabmdfp