“Noding, massa. We wait and we expect yo come. We guess you not seen by de rascal enemy, and we know yo not rush here when it light. De moon coming up. See um. Den we guess you come jest after it get dark. We get ready, and den rush. Simple as eatin’.”
“And about the alarm?”
“Not so simple,” was the candid answer. “Johnnie seem to tink dere trouble coming. Eber since he meet de Ashanti war men he say, ‘dere ruction ahead, dere goin’ ter be smash up of de mine.’ Johnnie look out from de hill when massa gone, every single day, and sit dere waitin’ wid de tom-tom. Lucky, too, massa, for we not hab velly much time. Me see black chap come out of de tree, and den dat half-white man who fight us before. Johnnie beat de tom-tom till all de miners hear. Den he run to the stockade and pick up de rifle. He see first one and den all de men racing in, and after dem de enemy. Dey rush right up to de gate. But Johnnie stop um.”
The comical little fellow turned his eyes up to the moon and squinted at Dick. He threw his chest out, stood to his fullest height, and put on an air of dignity.
“How?” asked Dick.
“Like dis. De men run in de gate, and de last man bang um to and bolt um. Den we stand at the peephole and wait. Two of de rascal come runnin’, and Johnnie take good aim. Bang! When me look ’gain both lying on de face, dead’s muttin’.”
“And you took command of the stockade?”
“Y’s guessed right, massa. Me hold de reins. Me shout de orders, and de men brave and behabe demselbes. We fire slow and careful, same as massa tell us, and we still plenty cartridge left.”
“And practically no water. That is the most serious news, and makes it impossible to remain for long where we are. How long will the moon be up, Johnnie?”
“Soon down,” was the answer. “In four hour, I tink.”