The boat went swiftly through the water, as the men bent with regular stroke, and made the tough ash blades of their oars curve ere they rose and scattered the flashing drops, which seemed to brighten the scene where all was flat and monotonous, and the view contracted by a dead silvery haze of heat. Behind them was the low flat shore with a few scattered white houses and factories behind a rough landing-stage. There were palms of different kinds in a straggling line, and on either side of the opening out of a muddy river, a bordering of dingy green mangroves--tree cripples, Mark Vandean called them, because they all looked as if standing up on crutches. A few boats lay in the mouth of the river, a dissolute-looking brig with its yards unsquared was at anchor higher up, and a sharp eye could detect a figure or two about the beach. On either side, as far as eye could reach, there was a line of surf. That was all shoreward, while out to sea, a couple of miles or so away, smart and business-like, with her tall spars and carefully squared yards and rigging, cobweb-like in texture at that distance, lay at anchor in the open road-stead HMS _Nautilus_ waiting to gather "blackberries" at the first opportunity, and toward which smart little vessel the cutter was being steadily propelled. The object ordered to lie still under pain of being pitched overboard did not lie, but crouched a little lower, and increased the wrinkles in its deeply lined forehead, above which was a thin fringe of hair, blinked its wondering eyes, and looked piteously at the speaker. It was the face of an old man with enormous mouth pinched together, and devoid of lips, but giving the idea that it was about to smile; nose there was none, save a little puckering in its place, but as if to make up for the want, the ears were largely developed, rounded, and stood out on either side in a pronounced fashion. For it was the most human of all the apes, being a chimpanzee about as big as a sturdy two-year-old boy. All at once the stroke oarsman ceased rowing, and began to wipe the perspiration from his open, good-humoured face. "Hullo!" shouted one of the middies, "what's that mean? Why are you not pulling?" "Beg pardon, sir; won't be none of me left to," said the man, "I'm trickling all away. Like to put the new hand in my place?" "New hand?" said the other middy; "what do you mean?" "Gent as you have behind you there." Mark Vandean frowned, and drew himself up, tried to look severe as an officer, but he was confronted by five grinning faces, and the mirth was contagious; he smiled at the idea, and the men roared. "There, pull away, my lads, and let's get on board. This is no time for skylarking." The men bent to their oars again, and the boat answered to its name, cutting swiftly through the water towards the little man-o'-war. "But there will be a row about it, old fellow," whispered Bob Howlett.