"
I saw how interested Miss Jelliffe was, and did my best to draw the man
out. Like most real fighters he was little inclined to live his own
combats over again, yet when he was once started it took little effort to
keep him going. After this I questioned Frenchy, very carefully, for he
is even less inclined than the other fishermen to talk about himself. I
have never known the secret, if there be one, in the life of this man,
alone of his people on this shore, with that child of his. He is always
ever so friendly, and looks at one with big, dog-like, trusting eyes, but
I have never sought to obtain a confidence he does not seem to be willing
to bestow on any one. For this reason I merely asked him whether he had
traveled much in foreign lands, as a sailor.
Then, as he puffed quietly at his pipe, the man gradually expanded just a
little, though never speaking of anything he had personally accomplished.
His tales, contrasting with Sammy's, took us to hot countries, with names
that were rather vague to us.
He led us up some rivers tenanted by strange beasts wallowing in fetid
mud which, when disturbed, sent forth bubbles that burst with foul odors,
and made more unbearable the tepid moisture one had to breathe. Hostile,
yellow people in strange garb slunk along the banks, hiding behind
bamboos and watching the boats rowed by white men nearly succumbing to
the torpor of the misty heat, while pulling with arms enfeebled by the
fevers of what he called _La Riviere Rouge_.
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