Now the up-country canoes glided past the little rotten wharf of
Lingard and Co., to paddle up the Pantai branch, and cluster round the
new jetty belonging to Abdulla. Not that they loved Abdulla, but they
dared not trade with the man whose star had set. Had they done so they
knew there was no mercy to be expected from Arab or Rajah; no rice to be
got on credit in the times of scarcity from either; and Almayer could not
help them, having at times hardly enough for himself. Almayer, in his
isolation and despair, often envied his near neighbour the Chinaman, Jim-
Eng, whom he could see stretched on a pile of cool mats, a wooden pillow
under his head, an opium pipe in his nerveless fingers. He did not seek,
however, consolation in opium--perhaps it was too expensive--perhaps his
white man's pride saved him from that degradation; but most likely it was
the thought of his little daughter in the far-off Straits Settlements. He
heard from her oftener since Abdulla bought a steamer, which ran now
between Singapore and the Pantai settlement every three months or so.
Almayer felt himself nearer his daughter. He longed to see her, and
planned a voyage to Singapore, but put off his departure from year to
year, always expecting some favourable turn of fortune.
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