It may be easily believed that there was no conversation during those hours of elemental strife, though the thoughts of each were busy enough.  At last the thunder ceased, or, rather, retired as if in growling defiance of the world which it had failed to destroy.  Then the sky began to lighten a little, and although the wind did not materially abate in force it became more steady and equal.  Before noon, however, it had subsided so much that Moses suggested the propriety of continuing the voyage.  To this Van der Kemp agreed, and the floating anchor was hauled in; the large paddle was resumed by the hermit, and the dangerous process of turning the canoe was successfully accomplished.

When the mast was again set up and the close-reefed main and foresails were hoisted, the light craft bounded away once more before the wind like a fleck of foam.  Then a gleam of sunshine forced its way through the driving clouds, and painted a spot of emerald green on the heaving sea.  Soon after that Van der Kemp opened the lid, or hatch, of the forehold, and Spinkie, jumping out with alacrity, took possession of his usual seat beside the mast, to which he clung with affectionate tenacity.  Gradually the wind went down.  Reef after reef of the two sails was shaken out, and for several hours thereafter our travellers sped merrily on, plunging into the troughs and cutting through the crests of the stormy sea.

CHAPTER XIII.

FRIENDS ARE MET WITH, ALSO PIRATES, AND A LIFE-OR-DEATH PADDLE ENSUES.

In physics, as in morals, a storm is frequently the precursor of a dead calm.

Much to the monkey’s joy, to say nothing of the men, the sun erelong asserted its equatorial power, and, clearing away the clouds, allowed the celestial blue to smile on the turmoil below.  The first result of that smile was that the wind retired to its secret chambers, leaving the ships of men to flap their idle sails.  Then the ocean ceased to fume, though its agitated bosom still continued for some time to heave.  Gradually the swell went down and soon the unruffled surface reflected a dimpling smile to the sky.

When this happy stage had been reached our voyagers lowered and stowed the canoe-sails, and continued to advance under paddles.

“We get along wonderfully fast, Van der Kemp,” said Nigel, while resting after a pretty long spell; “but it seems to me, nevertheless, that we shall take a considerable time to reach Borneo at this rate, seeing that it must be over two hundred miles away, and if we have much bad weather or contrary wind, we shan’t be able to reach it for weeks—­if at all.”

“I have been thrown somewhat out of my reckoning,” returned the hermit, “by having to fly from the party on the islet, where I meant to remain till a steamer, owned by a friend of mine, should pass and pick us up, canoe and all.  The steamer is a short-voyage craft, and usually so punctual that I can count on it to a day.  But it may have passed us in the gale.  If so, I shall take advantage of the first vessel that will agree to lend us a hand.”