Their favourite form of amusement was to sit round a large fire, either telling stories of the girls they had left behind, or singing love melodies.When the weather was at all cold, they would make a fire in a rather shallow tub, the sides of which were lined with a layer of sand.They were a wonderfully light-hearted lot of fellows, and I greatly enjoyed listening to their chants and yarns.I was more often with them than in Jensen's company, and it did not take me long to pick up bits of their language.
The Veielland only drew between seven feet and eight feet of water, so that we were able to venture very close in-shore whenever it was necessary.At length, about a month after starting, we reached a likely spot where the captain thought that the precious shells might be found; here we anchored, and the divers quickly got to work.I ought to have mentioned that we carried a large whale-boat, and about half-a-dozen frail little "shell" boats for the use of the divers.
The comings and goings of the various pearling expeditions were of course regulated by the weather and the state of the tide.The captain himself went out first of all in the whale-boat, and from it prospected for shells at the bottom of the crystal sea.The water was marvellously transparent, and leaning over the side of the boat, Jensen peered eagerly into his sea-telescope, which is simply a metal cylinder with a lens of ordinary glass at the bottom.Some of the sea-telescopes would even be without this lens, being simply a metal cylinder open at both ends.Although they did not bring the objects looked at nearer the vision, yet they enabled the prospector to see below the ruffled surface of the water.
The big whale-boat was followed at a respectful distance by the flotilla of smaller boats, each containing from four to six Malays.
When Jensen discerned a likely spot through his peculiar telescope, he gave the signal for a halt, and before you could realise what was going to happen, the native divers had tumbled out of their boats, and were SWIMMING in a weird way down to the bottom of the translucent sea.As a rule, one man was left in each little boat to follow the movements of the divers as they returned to the surface.Not only did these divers wear no mechanical "dress," but they used no stimulants or palliatives of any kind to aid them in their work.All they carried was a small sheath-knife hung from the waist by a piece of string.The water for the most part was only two or three fathoms deep, but sometimes it would be as much as eight fathoms,--which was the greatest depth to which the men cared to go.When he reached the bottom, the diver would grope about for shells, and generally return to the surface with a couple, held in his left hand and hugged against his breast; the right hand was kept free and directed his movements in swimming.
Each diver seldom remained under water more than one minute, and on coming to the surface he would take a "spell" of perhaps a quarter of an hour before going down again.
As fast as each man brought his shells into the boat, they were put into a separate little pile, which was respected absolutely, and always recognised as belonging to its owner.The bed of the sea at these pearling grounds is usually coral, with innumerable holes of different depths and sizes dotted all over it.It was in these recesses that the best shells were mostly found.
The marine vegetation down in these seas was always of extreme beauty; there were stately "trees" that waved backwards and forwards, as though under the influence of a gentle breeze; there were high, luxuriant grasses, and innumerable plants of endless variety and colour.The coral rocks, too, were of gorgeous hues--yellow, blue, red, and white; but a peculiar thing was that the moment you brought a piece of this rock up to the surface, the lovely colour it possessed whilst in the water gradually faded away.Some of the coral I saw had curious little shoots hanging from its numerous projections bearing a striking resemblance to bluebells.
The illusion of a submarine forest was further heightened by the droves of gaily-coloured fish that flitted in and out among the branches.Perhaps the most beautiful of all were the little dolphins.The diving expeditions went away from the ship with the ebb tide, and returned with the flow.Sometimes their search would take them long distances away, and on one occasion they were working fully ten miles from the Veielland.When the water suddenly became rough, rendering the divers unable to paddle their own little skiffs back to the ship, they made their way to the whale-boat, clambered aboard, and returned in her, trailing their own craft at the stern.The boats, however, were not always brought back to the ship at night; as a rule they were buoyed near the pearling beds, whilst the divers returned to their quarters aboard.I might here explain that the sleeping accommodation for the Malays was both ample and comfortable.A large room in which the casks of fresh water were stored was set apart for their use.
These casks were turned on end and a deck of planks placed over them, on which the Malays laid their sleeping mats and little wooden pillows.They ranged themselves twenty a side.But you may be asking, what was I doing during these pearling expeditions?
Well, I was intrusted with the important duty of receiving the shells from the men, and crediting each with the number he delivered.Thus I was nearly always left alone on the ship--save for the dog; because even the two Malay women frequently went out diving, and they were credited for work done precisely as the men were.
