And then came the question of how we were to get to the great northern island, for as a rule facilities for touching there were not very great; but somehow this proved to be no difficulty, all that we undertook being easily mastered, every obstacle melting away at the first attack.

In fact the journey to New Guinea was like a walk into a trap--wonderfully easy.

The difficulty was how to get out again.
Perhaps had I known of the dangers we were to encounter I might have shrunk from the task--I say might, but I hope I should not.

Still it was better that I was in ignorance when, with the doctor, I set about making inquiries at the harbour, and soon found a captain who was in the habit of trading to the island for shells and trepang, which he afterwards took on to Hongkong.
For a fairly liberal consideration he expressed himself willing to go out of his way and land us where we liked, but he shook his head all the same.
"You've cut out your work, youngster," he said; "and I doubt whether you're going to sew it together so as to make a job." "I'm going to try, captain," I said.
"That's your style," he said heartily, as he gave me a slap on the shoulder.

"That's the word that moves everything, my boy--that word `try.' My brains and butter! what a lot `try' has done, and will always keep doing.