Chapter 4 - Page 2

foresail. The girl
turned her canoe out of the main river into one of the many narrow
channels amongst the wooded islets, and paddled vigorously over the black
and sleepy backwaters towards Sambir. Her canoe brushed the water-palms,
skirted the short spaces of muddy bank where sedate alligators looked at
her with lazy unconcern, and, just as darkness was setting in, shot out
into the broad junction of the two main branches of the river, where the
brig was already at anchor with sails furled, yards squared, and decks
seemingly untenanted by any human being. Nina had to cross the river and
pass pretty close to the brig in order to reach home on the low
promontory between the two branches of the Pantai. Up both branches, in
the houses built on the banks and over the water, the lights twinkled
already, reflected in the still waters below. The hum of voices, the
occasional cry of a child, the rapid and abruptly interrupted roll of a
wooden drum, together with some distant hailing in the darkness by the
returning fishermen, reached her over the broad expanse of the river. She
hesitated a little before crossing, the sight of such an unusual object
as an European-rigged vessel causing her some uneasiness, but the river
in its wide expansion was dark enough to render a small canoe invisible.
She urged her small craft with swift strokes of her paddle, kneeling in
the bottom and bending forward to catch any suspicious sound while she
steered towards the little jetty of Lingard and Co., to which the strong
light of the paraffin lamp shining on the whitewashed verandah of
Almayer's bungalow served as a convenient guide. The jetty itself, under
the shadow of the bank overgrown by drooping bushes, was hidden in
darkness. Before even she could see it she heard the hollow bumping of a
large boat against its rotten posts, and heard also the murmur of
whispered conversation in that boat whose white paint and great
dimensions, faintly visible on nearer approach, made her rightly guess
that it belonged to the brig just anchored. Stopping her course by a
rapid motion of her paddle, with another swift stroke she sent it
whirling away from the wharf and steered for a little rivulet which gave
access to the back courtyard of the house. She landed at the muddy head
of the creek and made her way towards the house over the trodden grass of
the courtyard. To the left, from the cooking shed, shone a red glare
through the banana plantation she skirted, and the noise of feminine
laughter reached her from there in the silent evening. She rightly
judged her mother was not near, laughter and Mrs. Almayer not being close
neighbours. She must be in the house, thought Nina, as she ran lightly
up the inclined plane of shaky planks leading to the back door of