“Oho!” cried Nares, “you savvy plenty, do you? (Beggar’s seen this trick in the mail-boats, I guess.) Well, why you no savvy a little sooner, sonny?”

“I think bimeby make-um reward,” replied the cook, with smiling dignity.

“Well, you can’t say fairer than that,” the captain admitted, “and now the reward’s offered, you’ll talk?  Speak up, then.  Suppose you speak true, you get reward.  See?”

“I think long time,” replied the Chinaman.  “See plenty litty mat lice; too-muchy plenty litty mat lice; sixty ton, litty mat lice.  I think all-e-time:  perhaps plenty opium plenty litty mat lice.”

“Well, Mr. Dodd, how does that strike you?” asked the captain.  “He may be right, he may be wrong.  He’s likely to be right:  for if he isn’t, where can the stuff be?  On the other hand, if he’s wrong, we destroy a hundred and fifty tons of good rice for nothing.  It’s a point to be considered.”

“I don’t hesitate,” said I.  “Let’s get to the bottom of the thing.  The rice is nothing; the rice will neither make nor break us.”

“That’s how I expected you to see it,” returned Nares.

And we called the boat away and set forth on our new quest.

The hold was now almost entirely emptied; the mats (of which there went forty to the short ton) had been stacked on deck, and now crowded the ship’s waist and forecastle.  It was our task to disembowel and explore six thousand individual mats, and incidentally to destroy a hundred and fifty tons of valuable food.  Nor were the circumstances of the day’s business less strange than its essential nature.  Each man of us, armed with a great knife, attacked the pile from his own quarter, slashed into the nearest mat, burrowed in it with his hands, and shed forth the rice upon the deck, where it heaped up, overflowed, and was trodden down, poured at last into the scuppers, and occasionally spouted from the vents.  About the wreck, thus transformed into an overflowing granary, the sea-fowl swarmed in myriads and with surprising insolence.  The sight of so much food confounded them; they deafened us with their shrill tongues, swooped in our midst, dashed in our faces, and snatched the grain from between our fingers.  The men—­their hands bleeding from these assaults—­turned savagely on the offensive, drove their knives into the birds, drew them out crimsoned, and turned again to dig among the rice, unmindful of the gawking creatures that struggled and died among their feet.  We made a singular picture:  the hovering and diving birds; the bodies of the dead discolouring the rice with blood; the scuppers vomiting breadstuff; the men, frenzied by the gold hunt, toiling, slaying, and shouting aloud:  over all, the lofty intricacy of rigging and the radiant heaven of the Pacific.  Every man there toiled in the immediate hope of fifty dollars; and I, of fifty thousand.  Small wonder if we waded callously in blood and food.

It was perhaps about ten in the forenoon when the scene was interrupted.  Nares, who had just ripped open a fresh mat, drew forth, and slung at his feet, among the rice, a papered tin box.