"Do not exaggerate your story so much," said Rosalind. "Give the truth and nothing else."
"Qua'r, folks won't believe all dis pusson observes," said he, with an offended air.
"Tell the truth and they will in all cases; but should you deceive once, you will always be suspected afterward."
"Dat's it," commenced the negro, spreading out his broad hand like an orator to illustrate the point. "If I tells de truf dey're sure to t'ink I's lyin', and what's de use?"
"Zeb," commenced George, not regarding the last remark, "you, as well as we, are aware that we are encompassed by peril. You have seen that the Indians are constantly prowling around, and evidently for no good purpose. What would you advise us to do under the circumstances?"
"Give 'em all a good floggin' and set 'em to work," he replied.
"Come, come, Zeb, we want no jesting," interrupted Rosalind.
"Dar 'tis ag'in. Who war jestin'? Dat's what I t'ink is de best. Give 'em a good lickin', and set 'em to work clearin' off de wood till dar spunk is gone."
"Fudge!" said George, impatiently, turning his back toward Zeb, whose head ducked down with a chuckle.
"Rosalind," said George, "the best plan is certainly to wait until Leslie returns, which will be either to-morrow or the next day. We will then determine upon what course to pursue. Perhaps we shall be undisturbed until that time. If not, it cannot be helped."