returned to the ordinary style of two country gentlemen of the Twentieth Century.
Stretched on a pile of cushions, under the shade of a huge umbrella, they were lazily watching some native fishermen, who had come on board at the last landing-place, each carrying over his shoulder a small but heavy sack. A large weighing-machine, that had been used for cargo at the last port, stood on the deck; and round this the fishermen had gathered, and, with much unintelligible jabber, seemed to be weighing their sacks.
"More like sparrows in a tree than human talk, isn't it?" the elder tourist remarked to his son, who smiled feebly, but would not exert himself so far as to speak. The old man tried another listener.
"What have they got in those sacks, Captain?" he inquired, as that great being passed them in his never ending parade to and fro on the deck.
The Captain paused in his march, and towered over the travellers—tall, grave, and serenely self-satisfied.
"Fishermen," he explained, "are often passengers in My ship. These five are from Mhruxi—
