“Thanks, I will follow the lead of Moses, for I also have been accustomed to the single blade and prefer it—­at least while I am one of three.  If alone, I should prefer the double blade.”

“Now, Moses, are you ready?” asked the hermit.

“All ready, massa.”

“Get in then and shove off.  Come along, Spinkie.”

The monkey, which all this time had been seated on a rock looking on with an expression of inconsolable sorrow, at once accepted the invitation, and with a lively bound alighted on the deck close to the little mast, which had been set up just in front of Nigel, and to which it held on when the motions of the canoe became unsteady.

“You need not give yourself any concern about Spinkie,” said the hermit, as they glided over the still water of the little cove in which the canoe and boat were harboured.  “He is quite able to take care of himself.”

Bounding the entrance to the cove and shooting out into the ocean under the influence of Van der Kemp’s powerful strokes, they were soon clear of the land, and proceeded eastward at a rate which seemed unaccountable to our hero, for he had not sufficiently realised the fact that in addition to the unusual physical strength of Van der Kemp as well as that of Moses, to say nothing of his own, the beautiful fish-like adaptation of the canoe to the water, the great length and leverage of the bow paddle, and the weight of themselves as well as the cargo, gave this canoe considerable advantage over other craft of the kind.

About a quarter of an hour later the sun arose in cloudless splendour on a perfectly tranquil sea, lighted up the shores of Java, glinted over the mountains of Sumatra, and flooded, as with a golden haze, the forests of Krakatoa—­emulating the volcanic fires in gilding the volumes of smoke that could be seen rolling amid fitful mutterings from Perboewatan, until the hermit’s home sank from view in the western horizon.

CHAPTER XI.

CANOEING ON THE SEA—­A MYSTERIOUS NIGHT-SURPRISE AND SUDDEN FLIGHT.

At first the voyagers paddled over the glassy sea in almost total silence.

Nigel was occupied with his own busy thoughts; speculating on the probable end and object of their voyage, and on the character, the mysterious life, and unknown history of the man who sat in front of him wielding so powerfully the great double-bladed paddle.  Van der Kemp himself was, as we have said, naturally quiet and silent, save when roused by a subject that interested him.  As for Moses, although quite ready at any moment to indulge in friendly intercourse, he seldom initiated a conversation, and Spinkie, grasping the mast and leaning against it with his head down, seemed to be either asleep or brooding over his sorrows.  Only a few words were uttered now and then when Nigel asked the name of a point or peak which rose in the distance on either hand.  It seemed as if the quiescence of sea and air had fallen like a soft mantle on the party and subdued them into an unusually sluggish frame of mind.