They passed through the Sunda Straits between Sumatra and Java—­not more at the narrowest part than about thirteen miles wide—­and, in course of time, found themselves in the great island-studded archipelago beyond.

About noon they all seemed to wake up from their lethargic state.  Van der Kemp laid down his paddle, and, looking round, asked Nigel if he felt tired.

“Not in the least,” he replied, “but I feel uncommonly hungry, and I have just been wondering how you manage to feed when at sea in so small a craft.”

“Ho! ho!” laughed Moses, in guttural tones, “you soon see dat—­I ’spose it time for me to get out de grub, massa?”

“Yes, Moses—­let’s have it.”

The negro at once laid down his steering paddle and lifted a small square hatch or lid in the deck which was rendered watertight by the same means as the lid in front already described.  From the depths thus revealed he extracted a bird of some sort that had been shot and baked the day before.  Tearing off a leg he retained it and handed the remainder to Nigel.

“Help you’self, Massa Nadgel, an’ pass ’im forid.”

Without helping himself he passed it on to Van der Kemp, who drew his knife, sliced off a wing with a mass of breast, and returned the rest.

“Always help yourself before passing the food in future,” said the hermit; “we don’t stand on ceremony here.”

Nigel at once fell in with their custom, tore off the remaining drumstick and began.

“Biskit,” said Moses, with his mouth full, “an’ look out for Spinkie.”

He handed forward a deep tray of the sailor’s familiar food, but Nigel was too slow to profit by the warning given, for Spinkie darted both hands into the tray and had stuffed his mouth and cheeks full almost before a man could wink!  The negro would have laughed aloud, but the danger of choking was too great; he therefore laughed internally—­an operation which could not be fully understood unless seen. “’Splosions of Perboewatan,” may suggest the thing.

Sorrow, grief—­whatever it was that habitually afflicted that monkey—­disappeared for the time being, while it devoted itself heart and soul to dinner.

Feelings of a somewhat similar kind animated Nigel as he sat leaning back with his mouth full, a biscuit in one hand, and a drumstick in the other, and his eyes resting dreamily on the horizon of the still tranquil sea, while the bright sun blazed upon his already bronzed face.

To many men the fierce glare of the equatorial sun might have proved trying, but Nigel belonged to the salamander type of humanity and enjoyed the great heat.  Van der Kemp seemed to be similarly moulded, and as for Moses, he was in his native element—­so was Spinkie.

Strange as it may seem, sea-birds appeared to divine what was going on, for several specimens came circling round the canoe with great outstretched and all but motionless wings, and with solemn sidelong glances of hope which Van der Kemp evidently could not resist, for he flung them scraps of his allowance from time to time.