The Golden Magnet Part 7

"Climate? Ah! yes, I s'pose that do make a difference, Mas'r Harry.

But he might grow sugar."

"Perhaps he does, Tom," I said, "but we shall see before very long."

"Well, it won't be because it isn't hot enough," said Tom, wiping his face. "Phew! the sun does go it out here."

"But it may be colder where my uncle lives, Tom."

"Why, how can it be, Mas'r Harry, if it's anywhere out here?"

"Perhaps he's high up in the mountains, and there it will be much colder."

"Ha-ha-ha! Well, that is a good un, Mas'r Harry," laughed Tom. "You had plenty of schooling and I had none, but I do know better than that.

Going up closer to the sun and finding it colder! Well, that is a rum un, and no mistake."

I tried to explain to Tom why it was that the climate was colder in mountain regions, but I suppose I did it in too bungling a way for him to comprehend, and he stood out for his own opinion till he saw, some weeks later, a magnificent specimen of a snow-capped mountain, at which he stared in amazement; and even then he was obstinate enough to declare that, after all, the dazzling whiteness might be due to the clear transparency of crystal rock.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

FEEDING THE SHARKS.

It was a wonderful change from the stormy, tossing Atlantic, with its bitter winds and chilling cold, to the calm transparency of the brilliantly-blue tropic waters, where everything looked so unclouded and so bright. When we neared one or other of the islands, everything seemed so fresh that we began to forget the perils and troubles of our long, uneventful, but sufficiently troubled voyage. For there were golden or dazzlingly white sands, upon which the calm sea softly rippled, while close down to the water's edge we could see what Tom called spike plants and sweep's-brush trees--these being his names for plants of the Yucca family and lovely slender-tufted palms.

When we gazed down into the clear waters from the deck of our comparatively small steamer, we could see fish in plenty, for the brilliant sun seemed to light up the sea beneath the vessel's keel, while as the screw churned up the water and the steamer rushed on, the scaly occupants of the deep flashed away to right and left, darting out of sight like so many shafts of silver through the sunny depths.

It was a wonderful change from cold and chill to a delicious atmosphere, where the soft sea-breeze fanned our cheeks, though we soon became aware of the fact that the sun possessed power such as we had never experienced before.

"Why, it's like as if it came through a burning gla.s.s, Mas'r Harry,"

said Tom; "and, I say, just you try to touch that copper hood thing that goes over the compa.s.s. I did, and it burned my hand just as if it had come out of a hot fire."

"Well, I don't want to burn my hands, Tom," I replied. "I can see how hot it is by the pitch standing up in beads all along the ropes."

"And it's making black icicles outside some of the boards, Mas'r Harry, only they're soft instead of hard. I say, isn't it jolly?"

The next day it was a great deal hotter, for there was not a breath of air, and Tom came to me as I was hanging listlessly over the side, for I was too hot to stir.

"Say, Mas'r Harry," he said, "isn't this what they call being in the tropics?"

"Yes, Tom; this is the tropics."

"Well, they're hot tropics, and no mistake--out-and-out hot uns. It won't get any warmer than this, will it?"

"Warmer, my lad?" said one of the sailors; "why, this is nothing to what it is sometimes. I've known it so hot that the fellows have been half-roasted, and when the skipper's piped all hands to bathe in a lugsail overboard, to keep away the sharks, you've heard the lads sizzle as they jumped into the water."

"They got quite red-hot, then?" said Tom quietly.

"Well, hardly red-hot, though they were mostly very red--more brown-hot, I should say."

"Thanky," said Tom. "Much obliged;" and the sailor went away chuckling.

"He thinks I believe him, Mas'r Harry," said Tom quietly; "but I'm not quite such a fool as all that."

"Oh! never mind their nonsense, Tom," I said; "there are too many beautiful things to see, for us to pay heed to all that these fellows say."

"Ah! you're about right there, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "but somehow I am a bit disappointed."

"Why?" I asked.

"At not getting ash.o.r.e. Only think of it, Mas'r Harry! having a gun apiece, and going wandering up the country somewhere, seeing all there is in one of these islands."

"Have patience, Tom," I replied; "and I daresay you'll get as much adventure as you'll care to have."

I did not know how true a prophet I was then. In fact, perhaps if I could have foreseen all we should have to go through, I might have shrunk back from my undertaking.

Farther and farther every day now we went on and on, putting in at first one island port and then another, but never having time to do more than just go ash.o.r.e. A visit up the country was quite out of the question.

"It's a rum un, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, on our first landing; and his broad countrified face expanded into a grin as he stopped opposite a stout old negro woman who was selling fruit. No sooner did she see Tom displaying his white teeth than she showed hers--two long rows like ivory--and these two stood smiling one at the other till Tom recovered himself, and invested sixpence in plantains and oranges.

"They're black enough out here, and no mistake, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "and oh, I say, just you taste these--they're splendid."

The waving cocoa palms and the beautiful flowers that we saw brought into the bright little market made me feel, like Tom, that I should like to go farther afield; but I comforted myself with the recollection that we should soon be at our destination, and that then there would be plenty to see and do.

Back on board once more, we spent our time basking in the sunshine, drinking it in as it were, for it seemed so delightful in spite of its heat after our dull, cheerless, hazy home in the winter season.

I took no note of how the time went, and this part of the voyage, though in a slow clumsy boat, seemed far the quickest portion of the journey, so that I was quite surprised when one morning I came on deck, and found not only that we were in sight of land, but in sight of port--my landing port--the end of my sea journey, for we were right across the Gulf of Mexico, abreast of La Guayra, where the orders were given, and anchor was dropped in the open roadstead, where, calm as it was, we could still feel the great swell that came softly sweeping in, making the great steamer rock and roll first to this side then to that, till, heavily laden though she was, she careened over so that her copper glistened in the sun.

I was beginning to feast my eyes upon the beauty of the place, when Tom, who was right forward, shouted to me to come, and as I glanced at him I saw that he was waving his hands so excitedly that there must be something worth seeing, and I ran forward.

"Here's something for you to have a look at, Mas'r Harry," he cried.

"You recollect that big pike the sea-serpent sailor told us about--ugh!

four feet long didn't he say?"

"Yes, Tom; but there are no pike here."

"No pike, Mas'r Harry! Why, here's a couple of 'em cruising about just under the bows here, and you can see 'em as plain as plain, and they're twelve or fourteen foot long at least."

"Yes, Tom," I said, as I climbed on to the bulwark, and sheltering my eyes gazed down into the beautiful water, where the bottom was plainly visible many feet below. "Yes, Tom," I said, "they're twelve or fourteen feet long at least, but they are not pike."

"Not pike, Mas'r Harry! What are they then?"

"Sharks, my lad," I replied. "Sharks."

"What, them?" he cried excitedly as he stared down. "So they're sharks are they? Well, I'm glad I've seen 'em anyhow; but I shouldn't have known that they were sharks. Mustn't bathe here then," he continued; "that is if all they say about sharks is true."

"I believe it's true enough, Tom," I said.

"Let's try 'em, Mas'r Harry," said Tom eagerly.