Part 77 (2/2)

”What is he going to do with him?” asked Mr Anderson--”Keep him a prisoner?”

”Kill um,” said the black abruptly. ”Come! Caesar show um;” and he caught hold of the middy's arm, gave it a tug, and then signed to the others to follow.

”Yes,” said the lieutenant sharply; ”it seems to me quite time we had a word to say about that. Let him lead on, Mr Murray. I want to have a few more words with our friend Mr Huggins. We must show him that there is a difference of opinion upon this question. Here, you darkie, does Mr Huggins indulge himself much in this kind of sport?”

The black, who was moving off sharply, stopped short, dropped his lower jaw to his breast, and stared vacantly at the speaker.

”What buccra sailor officer say?” he whispered.

”Don't speak in that way,” said the lieutenant sharply. ”Why don't you speak aloud?”

”Caesar berry much 'fraid ma.s.sa Huggins hear um. Den kill poor n.i.g.g.ah.”

”That means, then, that Master Huggins does kill people sometimes?”

”Yes, ma.s.sa often kill pore n.i.g.g.ah when cross.”

”Well, look here, my lad; don't you be very much afraid. I want you to show us all you can, for he is not going to kill our friend Master Allen.”

”Ma.s.sa Allen friend,” said the black, nodding his head sharply. ”Ma.s.sa Allen kill pore n.i.g.g.ah? No, nebber. Come 'long.”

The man led the way, holding tightly by the middy's arm, and as soon as he had pa.s.sed out of the tunnel, plunged into the dense forest, and threading his way among the trees, followed by the party, whose countenances were glowing with excitement, he carefully avoided every patch of earth which threatened to yield to the pressure of footsteps.

This he kept on for over half-an-hour, when he stopped short and, bending down nearly double, pointed to where, instead of being firm, the way he had selected had suddenly become boggy, mossy, and of a rich green.

”Young officer, look dah,” he whispered. ”No speak loud. Ma.s.sa Huggin men hear um.”

”Well,” said Murray, ”I am looking _dah_, sir, but there is nothing to see.”

”No see? Caesar see. Ma.s.sa Huggin men come 'long. Carry Ma.s.sa Allen, make men foot go down soft. Make mark.”

”Perhaps so,” said Murray, ”but I can see nothing.”

”Let him lead on, Mr Murray,” said the lieutenant. ”I want to get to business.”

”Caesar show,” whispered the man, and now, walking half doubled and with his hands hanging down, he broke into a trot, closely followed by the party, for another few hundred yards, before stopping short so suddenly that those who followed were on the point of over-running him.

”Ma.s.sa officer look now,” whispered the black. ”Ma.s.sa no say can't see now.”

”No: I can see now,” said Murray. ”Look here, sir,” he whispered, imitating the cautious utterance of the black, as the lieutenant closed up to him.

”Yes,” said the officer eagerly; ”this is real trail. So many seals impressed in the soft boggy soil; all leading off yonder in a fresh direction after evidently making a halt here. You can make it out, Mr Murray, eh?”

”I can make out the footsteps, sir,” replied the lad, ”but I can't say I understand them.”

”Oh no, of course not,” said the lieutenant, ”but I suppose our black friend here can. Tell us all about it, what's your name--Caesar?”

”Yes, ma.s.sa,” said the black promptly; and he began eagerly to point out the various impressions in the earth, carefully keeping on one side and nearly touching the ground as he bent down.

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