"My guess is that eleven dollars is about twice what Darus used to get in Quallah Battoo," Bryant went on, chuckling. "No wonder he's so pleased to do business with us."
"More power to him," Scott said.
The two captains went ashore to establish a weighing station outside the town, which boasted five separate forts, two of them plainly visible from the anchorage. On the advice of Darus, they refrained from entering Quallah Battoo and denied shore leave to their ships' companies. Some townspeople drifted to the site of the scales, on the southern bank of the river, but remained sullenly aloof, refusing even to sell foodstuffs. Scott observed that Darus himself was unperturbed, although his tribesmen kept their weapons handy and made no effort to fraternize with the coastal people.
Evan Hurst was one of the men who went ashore with Scott. He got along well with Darus, making the man laugh more than once, and it was actually from him that Scott learned that the five rajahs of Quallah Battoo could muster more than four hundred warriors among them. The town itself had some two thousand residents.
The initial quantity of pepper was stowed in the brigs without incident, but a number of proas from Quallah Battoo lazed about both vessels the whole time. And next day, when Darus prepared to return to his village for more. Hurst requested permission to go with him.
"Me an' Darus git along, sir," the man said to Scott, "an' I'd like to see some of th' country inland. I ain't much of a sailor, you know, sir."
Scott hesitated momentarily. He liked Hurst and felt he owed the man a favor, but he disliked the appearance of favoritism. Hurst sensed his feeling.
"It ain't that I particularly want anything that anybody else ain't gittin', sir," he said, "but I sure would like to see th' high country inland. I've been hearin' 'bout tigers an' elephants an' suchlike, an' I'd sure like to see some of them critters while I'm out this way.
"Another thing, sir, I sort of like th' Malays. They kind of remind me of Indians, an' I got along right good with th' Cherokees until I had my little trouble just afore I met up with you in Charleston."
Scott didn't ask him what the difficulty with the Cherokees had been; but he did seek to justify granting the leave. "Go with Darus, then. You can make sure he'll return."
"He'll be back, sir," Hurst said confidently. "Like I said, these people remind me of Indians I've known. You always had to keep an eye on an Indian like Pa' Mahmud, but you could trust one like Darus."
After the rajah had departed, Hurst with him in the leading proa, Fox volunteered to visit Quallah Battoo in an effort to buy fresh fruits, vegetables and meat.
"I think one of the rajahs is named Chedula," the second mate told Scott. "He's probably the same Chedula I knew here."
Scott granted permission, adding, "I'll go along with you."
A frown touched Fox's face briefly. He spoke smoothly. "It's not that there's any danger, sir, but Chedula is a fellow who has to be handled with gloves—I mean, if he's the same fellow I think he is. I'd rather go first by myself and trade on old acquaintance, if you don't object. This Chedula and the others, too are liable to be riled about our deal with Darus. After all, they've been shut out in the cold."
"Go ahead, then," Scott said. "I'll see the town later."
In a matter of three hours Fox was back, bringing the foodstuffs he had sought, and Scott commended him warmly. The weather was hot and an abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables would go a long way toward keeping the ship-bound seamen contented with their lot. Having sampled the sensual delights of Sumatra at the first port of call, they had been looking forward to going ashore at Quallah Battoo.
Darus was to be gone three days, and in the period of his absence Scott began paying more attention to Dorcas. Since she had come aboard he had been alternately attracted to her and irked by her presence. But for her, he might have enjoyed himself ashore after the difficulties with Pa' Mahmud had been ironed out. However, gaining her undivided attention was not easy, because in this period of inactivity both Bryant and Fox were vying for her companionship, a contest plainly not displeasing to her. In Manila she had never been in the company of a man without chaperonage.
One night after supper, though, Scott went onto the poop to smoke and found her leaning on the taffrail, dreamily looking out over water sparkling in the light of a full moon. A few proas had put out from the shore and in the town distant lights flickered like jewels. She did not notice him until he spoke.
"Thinking?" he asked jestingly.
She was startled. "Oh!" Then, almost defensively, "Yes, I was."
The way she said it stopped him from probing. Finally, again looking out over the calm, bright water, she spoke again. "I was wondering how it will be to live in the United States. We shall be quite poor, you know."
"I've always been poor," he said lightly.
"Don't jest," she said solemnly. "You are a man—a seafarer used to strange places—and, besides, America is your home. It is different with me. Up until the time my mother died we had the patronage of wealthy, influential people. I never had the feeling of—well—of being completely outside and dependent on myself. When we get to Philadelphia I must find employment ... be a governess, I suppose. I'm told that women of good family occasionally accept such work in your country and in England."
"That's true, I believe, although I know no governesses. But why should you work? There's your father ... a learned man. He can teach in America as well as in the Philippines, surely. After all, he is an American."
She turned to face him. Her smile was sad and tender. "But he isn't very practical, Captain Rogers. My mother's influence helped him a great deal... even more than he realizes. Not that I mind his being a scholar," she finished loyally.
"I suppose the idea of going to his country must be a little frightening to you, everything considered," Scott said slowly.
"Not, not exactly. But it will be so very different. Maybe exciting is the word. Anyway, I really don't think I'd mind being a governess. I get along well with children."
In his mind he pictured her catering to the whims of spoiled youngsters, and he didn't like what he saw. The work would be too much like that done by slave women in Charleston and elsewhere in the South. "Your father will find work. He can teach Spanish... perhaps write a book."
"He wants to write a book," she said softly, "and perhaps he will, as you say. But he himself says literature is a frail reed for a family man to lean on."
You are fearful, he thought compassionately, and I don't blame you. I was afraid when first I went to sea, only I wouldn't admit it. I had to grow up to admit being afraid of anything. Your father isn't the sort of man to beat learning into thick heads with a hickory stick and you're not a woman to be wasted on a bunch of snotty-nosed rich brats. You ought to be married... have a man to look out for you. He looked closely at her, liking the way the night wind blew wisps of hair about her face, and the desire to touch her rose strongly in him. For a moment he did not trust himself to move or speak.
She was conscious of the moon-madness, too, and it was both alarming and alluring. She feared that he would touch her, and she wished he would. It was most confusing. She brushed her hair back from her forehead and spoke almost abruptly. "I missed Captain Bryant at supper tonight."
"He was a little under the weather."
"I know. But—well—I did miss him. He's so good-natured and thoughtful. I think he is a kinder man than—well—than Mr. Fox, for example."