Then I watched the shore, with its lights looking soft and mellow against the black velvety darkness.  Now and then the booming of gongs floated off to us, and the squeaking of a curious kind of pipe; while from the boats close in shore the twangling, twingling sound of the native guitars was very plain--from one in particular, where there was evidently some kind of entertainment, it being lit up with a number of lanterns of grotesque shapes.  In addition to the noise--I can't call it music--of the stringed instruments, there came floating to us quite a chorus of singing.  Well, I suppose it was meant for singing; but our lads evidently differed, for I heard one man say in a gruff whisper--