The Disturber of Traffic              "Who is 'he'?"  "That
Sunderland boat, o' course. Ah!"             "Orang-Laut?" I
suggested.    "Where did you meet him?" I asked.       "Three
weeks after he'd done his business up comes a steamer through
Loby Toby Straits, thinking she'd run into Flores Sea before
night. He saw her slow down; then she backed. Then one man and
another come up on the bridge, and he could see there was a
regular powwow, and the flood was driving her right on to
Dowse's wreck-buoys. After that she spun round and went back
south, and Dowse nearly killed himself with laughing. But a few
weeks after that a couple of junks came shouldering through from
the north, arm in arm, like junks go. It takes a good deal to
make a Chinaman understand danger. They junks set well in the
current, and went down the fairway, right among the buoys, ten
knots an hour, blowing horns and banging tin pots all the time.
That made Dowse very angry; he having taken so much trouble to
stop the fairway. No boats run Fl