Part 9 (2/2)
”No, sir, no; the word ain't too parfect,” replied Disco, with a look of critical severity; ”part of it is 'arth, and 'arth is imparfect, bein'
susceptible of a many improvements, among which undoubtedly is breakfast, likewise dinner an' supper, to say nothin' of lunch an' tea, which is suitable only for babbies an' wimen; so I agrees with you, sir, that the state o' things will be sailumterraciouser if we goes ash.o.r.e an' has breakfast.”
He tapped the head of his very black little pipe on the edge of the canoe, and heaved a sigh of contentment as he watched the ash-ball that floated away on the stream; then, rousing himself, he seized the steering-oar and followed Harold into a small creek, which was pleasantly overshadowed by the rich tropical foliage of that region.
While breakfast was being prepared by Antonio, whose talents as _chef-de-cuisine_ were of the highest order, Harold took his rifle and rambled into the bush in search of game--any kind of game, for at that time he had had no experience whatever of the sport afforded by the woods of tropical Africa, and, having gathered only a few vague ideas from books, he went forth with all the pleasurable excitement and expectation that we may suppose peculiar to discoverers.
Disco Lillihammer having only consumed his first pipe of tobacco, and holding it to be a duty which he owed to himself to consume two before breakfast, remained at the camp-fire to smoke and chaff Antonio, whose good-nature was only equalled by his activity.
”Wot have 'ee got there?” inquired Disco, as Antonio poured a quant.i.ty of seed into a large pot.
”Dis? vy, hims be mapira,” replied the interpreter, with a benignant smile. ”Hims de cheef food ob dis konterie.”
It must be remarked here that Antonio's English, having been acquired from all sorts of persons, in nearly every tropical part of the globe, was somewhat of a jumble, being a compound of the broken English spoken by individuals among the Germans, French, Portuguese, Arabs, and Negroes, with whom he had at various times a.s.sociated, modified by his own ignorance, and seasoned with a dash of his own inventive fancy.
”Is it good?” asked Disco.
”Goot!” exclaimed Antonio. Being unable to find words to express himself, the enthusiastic cook placed his hand on the region which was destined ere long to become a receptacle for the mapira, and rolled his eyes upwards in rapture. ”Hah! oo sall see behind long.”
”Before long, you mean,” observed the seaman.
”Dat all same ting, s'long's you onerstand him,” replied Antonio complacently.--”Bring vatter now, Jumbo. Put him in careful. Not spill on de fire--zo--goot.”
Jumbo filled up the kettle carefully, and a broad grin overspread his black visage, partly because he was easily tickled into a condition of risibility by the cool off-hand remarks of Disco Lillihammer, and partly because, having acquired his own small smattering of English from Dr Livingstone, he was intelligent enough to perceive that in regard to Antonio's language there was something peculiar.
”Now, go fitch noder kittle--queek.”
”_Yis_, sar--zo--goot,” replied Jumbo, mimicking the interpreter, and going off with a vociferous laugh at his little joke, in which he was joined by his sable clansmen, Masiko and Zombo.
”Hims got 'nuff of impoodidence,” said the interpreter, as he bustled about his avocations.
”He's not the only one that's got more than enough impoodidence,” said Disco, pus.h.i.+ng a fine straw down the stem of his ”cutty,” to make it draw better. ”I say, Tony,” (our regardless seaman had already thus mutilated his name), ”you seem to have plenty live stock in them parts.”
”Plenty vat?” inquired the interpreter, with a perplexed expression.
”Why, plenty birds and beasts,--live stock we calls it, meanin' thereby livin' creeturs.” He pointed towards an opening in the mangroves, through which were visible the neighbouring mud and sand flats, swarming with wild-fowl, and conspicuous among which were large flocks of pelicans, who seemed to be gorging themselves comfortably from an apparently inexhaustible supply of fish in the pools left by the receding tide.
”Ho, yis, me perceive; yis, plenty bird and beast--fishes too, and crawbs--look dare.”
He pointed to a part of the sands nearest to their encampment which appeared to be alive with some small creatures.
”That's coorious,” said Disco, removing his pipe, and regarding the phenomenon with some interest.
”No, 'taint koorous, it's crawbs,” replied Antonio.
”Crabs, is it?” said Disco, rising and sauntering down to the sands; for he possessed an inquiring mind, with a special tendency to investigate the habits (pranks, as he called them) of the lower animals, which, in other circ.u.mstances, might have made him a naturalist.
Muttering to himself--he was fond of muttering to himself, it felt companionable,--”coorious, very coorious, quite 'stroanary,” he crept stealthily to the edge of the mangroves, and there discovered that the sands were literally alive with myriads of minute crabs, which were actively engaged--it was supposed by those who ought to know best--in gathering their food. The moment the tide ebbed from any part of the sands, out came these crablets in swarms, and set to work, busy as bees, ploughing up the sand, and sifting it, apparently for food, until the whole flat was rendered rough by their incessant labours. Approaching cautiously, Disco observed that each crab, as he went along sidewise, gathered a round bit of moist sand at his mouth, which was quickly brushed away by one of his claws, and replaced by another, and another, as fast as they could be brushed aside.
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