As the strange adventures of Joe and Sylvia were primarily due to what Joe did to Vanderdecken’s crew’s soup, it is advisable to give here a short account of these interesting foreigners.
As I have said, Vanderdecken (vulgarly known as the Flying Dutchman) had come in some time before and camped on the bank of a river north of Watkyns Bay. They had had so much tossing about the seas since they started out from Holland in the seventeenth century that it was quite a nice change for them, and they were in no hurry to go away, even though they were very anxious to see their wives and babies again. And it was just as well that they were in no hurry to go, for their wives and babies had all died hundreds of years ago and it would have been a distressing shock to them if they had managed to reach home, this in itself a doubtful matter.
Each man had his hut, made of stout reeds with a roof of palm branches. They stood in a semicircle, with a double-sized one in the middle for Vanderdecken, and there was a garden in front in which was planted some sweet-peas and a few simple bulbs. There was also a large general hut where they had their meals and sat about the table afterwards, smoking their long pipes and talking about how they really must think of getting busy with the old ship and cleaning her up for the voyage. She was in a bad way, with the sails all patched and the carved dolphins on her bows all worn smooth with the seas she had dived into for so many weary years; but the most they ever did towards getting her ready was to lighten her by taking the heavy things out and putting them on shore—quaint old cannon and the two spare anchors, and bales of spices and elephants’ tusks, and casks of salt beef all hard as horn from age, and so forth. Each seaman took his chest and hammock ashore and made his hut neat with a floor of little mashed-up shells, and perhaps a shelf or two and a rack for pipes and pannikins and other small matters. Vanderdecken’s parrot was still going strong, for the curse had come on him too (not that that troubled him) and he sat on a perch outside in the sun with a tin pot full of nuts beside him, swearing in High Dutch.
It is to be regretted that their relations with the Society, though friendly, were not at all enthusiastic. In the first place, they were, like all Dutchmen, phlegmatic and not given to gush. In the second place, England was at war with Holland when they started out and they did not like the sight of the British flag flying over the main building in Watkyns Bay. It was of course Miss Watkyns’ duty to make the first call, so she went with six of the ladies and told them that she had no objection to their staying there—which seemed rather superfluous as they had already settled down very comfortably—and that she hoped they would find the rest and change beneficial. No refreshments were offered, for Vanderdecken had no tea but only Schnapps, a heady liquor calculated to make an unaccustomed man climb trees and therefore obviously unsuited to ladies. The call was returned in due time by Vanderdecken and his mate and two washed seamen; and from then on there were little formal calls at intervals, but, as I say, no real cordiality; mostly talk about the weather.
But the Dutchmen get on famously with the Snergs, who visit them frequently and invite them over to the town for week-ends, this giving a nice excuse for a feast. Then they introduced them to a special kind of mead made from wild bees’ honey, with a little distillation of ginger added to give it a kick. This was glad news to the weary mariners, for though they had started out with a good supply of Schnapps they had of course not taken the curse into account and the supply was getting alarmingly low, and there had been many wrinkled brows over the matter. Hunting parties are organized very often; the Dutchmen go with strangely carved muskets and the Snergs with bows and arrows, and they come home with mixed bags. This, however, has caused trouble with the Society, for Miss Watkyns said she could not allow promiscuous slaying of animals in the forest land between the coast and the Snerg country; that if they liked (she meant this ironically) they could go to the country beyond the deep river, where rumour had it there were fierce beasts worthy of their skill, and kill as many as they liked. She gave a list of animals that were prohibited; among these were cinnamon bears, young deer and various sorts of birds. Vanderdecken objected strongly to this, and he came over to argue the matter; but there was breeding in the man and he finally gave way. They now hunt only large deer, hares, duck, and wobsers, a swift-running, graminivorous animal something between a platypus and a pig, but with a prehensile tail. Cooked with bay leaves they are delicious.
But though there was no great cordiality between the ladies of the Society and the Dutchmen, there was no friction to speak of. Miss Watkyns would often send over a few dozen eggs or a basket of plums from the orchard and the like, and Vanderdecken sent one of his men to plant tulips in the way they should be planted, the Dutch being very skilful at this. When the ladies’ bathing kiosk blew over in a high wind he and his men came and put it right side up by brute force, and last Christmas he sent two sacks of little carved windmills for the children. On the whole relations could be called satisfactory.