Of course Captain Roy made no objection to his son’s proposal, though he freely gave his opinion that it was a wild-goose chase.

“However, lad, please yourself and you’ll please me,” he added; “and now, be particular to bear in mind that you’ve got to write to me every time you get within hail of a post-office or a passing ship or steamer that may chance to be comin’ this way, and in each letter be sure to tell me where you’re goin’ to next, so as I may send a letter there to you in case I want you to return sudden or otherwise.  We mustn’t lose touch, you see.  You needn’t write long screeds.  I only want to know your whereabouts from time to time.  For the rest—­you can spin it out in yarns when you come back.”

CHAPTER VI.

THE HERMIT OF RAKATA INTRODUCED.

Nothing worthy of particular note occurred during the boat-voyage along the northern shore of Java to Sunda Straits.  A fair, steady breeze wafted them westward, and, on the morning of the third day, they came in sight of the comparatively small uninhabited island of Krakatoa.

The boat in which they voyaged, although a little one, had a small portion of the bow decked over, so that our hero and his sable friend could find shelter from the night air when disposed to sleep and from the fierce rays of the sun at noon.

By the advice of his father, Nigel had changed his sailor costume for the “shore-goin’ toggery” in which he had landed on the Keeling Islands, as being more suitable to his new character as a traveller, namely, a white cloth cap with a peak in front and a curtain behind to protect his neck, a light-grey tunic belted at the waist, and a pair of strong canvas trousers.  He had also purchased an old-fashioned double-barrelled fowling-piece, muzzle-loading and with percussion locks.

“For you see, Nigel,” the captain had said, “it’s all very well to use breech-loaders when you’ve got towns and railways and suchlike to supply you wi’ cartridges, but when you’ve got to cruise in out-o’-the-way waters, there’s nothin’ like the old style.  It’s not difficult to carry a few thousand percussion-caps an’ a bullet-mould about wi’ you wherever you go.  As to powder, why, you’ll come across that ‘most everywhere, an’ lead too; and, for the matter o’ that, if your life depended on it you could shove a handful of gravel or a pen-knife or tooth-pick into your gun an’ blaze away, but with a breech-loader, if you run out o’ cartridges, where are you?”

So, as Nigel could not say where he was, the percussion-gun had been purchased.

The peak of Rakata—­the highest in the island—­a little over 2600 feet, came in sight first; gradually the rest of the island rose out of the horizon, and ere long the rich tropical verdure became distinguishable.