But with the tide in the muddy river ebbing under her, the _M'poso_ stuck in the dock she had made, in spite of reversed propeller, and winches straining on the kedge wire till they threatened to heave themselves bodily from the decks. The insect torments of Africa boarded her from the mangroves and bit all live things they came against; obscene land crabs dressed in raw and startling colors waddled up onto the slime of the banks as the water left them and blew impotent froth bubbles at the tough steamboat which even they could not eat. Parrots crowed at them from the shining green foliage of the mangroves alongside; slimy things gazed at them from the mud beneath the arches of the wire-like roots. The sun crawled up into the aching blue overhead till it forgot how to cast a shadow, and the wet steam heat grew so oppressive that even Laura Slade, country-born though she was, felt sick with its violence. But Miss Kate O'Neill on the awning deck did elaborate calculations on sheets of paper, which she tore up and threw into the beer-colored river when she had entered the results in her pocket-book; and down in the purser's room, Carter carved images on Okky calabashes for the English curiosity market. To him came Mr. Balgarnie, dripping and fuming. "Great whiskers! man, why did you shut the port-hole? You're lean; but if I stay in this atmosphere I shall peg out of heat apoplexy in half an hour. Here, let me open the port and stick out the wind scoop." "Wind scoop's no good; there isn't a breath. And if you open the port you'll be devoured. I tried it. I'm a Dalesman and I like a draught of air, but it's no go here. Red ants, I think they are. Look at the way they've been eating the insides out of your domestic cockroaches. Now gaze on this chop bowl? Isn't it a gem? Any stay-at-home Englishman would spot it as genuine native workmanship in a moment. All done with a blunt knife; that's the great tip in this sort of carving." "Have a drop of whiskey? You fit for dash me dem bowl?" "No, Purser, I'm not going to give away anything just now. I want five shillings spot cash for this specimen, and it's dirt cheap at that. When you've weathered it a bit, and given it a dressing of good yellow palm oil, it will fetch a golden sovereign from a Las Palmas tripper, easy." "They're a hard-up lot, the people who come to the Islands these days, and they're inclined to get too familiar if you offer as a favor to sell them anything they may see in your room. I've chucked showing them things. But I might get three half-crowns for that bowl in Liverpool. Of course, I don't want any commission from you, old fellow. I'll hand over every penny I'm paid for it." Carter stuck out a dogged chin. "Look here, Purser, it's too hot for frills, and we know one another a bit too well for them to go down. Potter out five bob and the thing's yours to make what you can of. If you don't, I've another customer who'll give more. I'm hard up."