It was his first drink for a long time, and it was excellent beer; the only drawback was the quantity.
“What I can’t see,” said Harman, finishing his portion of the liquid, “is what in the nation you want treatin’ the perisher to two bottles of this stuff; two bottles is too little to take ashore with you as a present, and it’s one too many if you’re just going to offer him a drink after he’s caught.”
The Captain joined issue, and the argument went on till thirst joined with Harman, and the Captain gave in. The second bottle was opened.
And now a strange thing happened. No sooner had the contents of the second bottle vanished than the Captain himself prepared to finish the business.
“There’s no use in one bottle,” said he, “and, for the matter of that, I can get him aboard on the promise of beer. How’s he to know there is none?”
Harman actually protested--feebly enough, it is true--yet he protested, holding out his glass at the same time. There was a Scotch strain in Harman.
When they had finished, they filled the bottles with water and recorked them.
“They’re just as good like that,” said the Captain, “for Sprengel.”
At seven o’clock next morning Christobal showed up on the far horizon, and by ten o’clock the _Penguin_ was heading for the anchorage, with the Captain on the bridge and Harman beside him.
A broken reef protected the beach from the full force of the sea, and the cliffs showed green with foliage and flecked at one point by the eternal smoke of a torrent. Beyond the beach a white frame house with a veranda showed, and on either side native houses nestled among the cocoanut trees and breadfruits. The faint wind blowing from landward brought the perfume of vanilla and flowers, coloured birds flew in the blue sky above the trees, while the tune of the blue sea beating on the reef came like the song of sleep and summer.
A sulphur-tinted butterfly flittered across the water on the wind, as if to inspect the ship, and flittered away again. On the beach could be seen several natives standing and watching their approach, motionless and seemingly incurious.
“It’s all deep water through the break and beyond,” said the Captain. “We don’t want any pilot.”
“There’s a chap come out on the veranda of the house,” said Harman.