Captain Jack and his first mate and crew were drinking and playing guessing games in the cabin. A few of the men, unable to hold their liquor, were already slumped drunkenly across the floor. From time to time, the captain would glance at the old man sitting in the corner of the cabin. He noticed that the man remained as steady as a mountain, sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed in meditation. For a full day and night, the old man had not touched a grain of rice, drinking only half a cup of fresh water. Though the captain was deeply puzzled, politeness kept him from asking questions.
When the old man had first been discovered, he had been drifting on a small skiff, calmly feeding a dark, viscous liquid—some kind of plant extract—to the infant in his arms. Amidst the vast, boundless ocean, he appeared like a stray lamb wandering through a meadow, aimless and unconcerned, entirely unaware of the perilous situation he was in.
Captain Jack, a man with a cold exterior but a warm heart, had immediately ordered his crew to haul the old man aboard. Since they did not share a language, the captain had hopped about like a monkey, gesturing wildly and using both hands and feet to manage a clumsy exchange.
Chapter 169