“‘Yessuh,’ Ah says, and keeps right on rowin’. But we hadn’t gone no distance ’tall when he tells me to quit.”
“‘Gimme dem oars, you fool nigger,’ he says, ‘Ah’ll row dis boat in, and Ah wants you should step ashore an’ heave dat boat off de bank.’”
“Ah jes’ had to do like he says, ’cause Marse Boolus is a powerful mean man when he gits riled. But Ah hadn’t any more dan got ashore when he hears one of you white boys shoutin’ somethin’, an’ he thinks you’re comin’ back for your boat. Wid dat he starts pullin’ away like mad, leavin’ me up on de bank. Ah shoved off de boat, anyway, thinkin’ dat he’d come back an’ pick me up, but he jes’ kep’ right on goin’, and here I is.”
“We ought to pitch you into the river and let you swim after him,” said Lee, angrily.
The frightened negro rolled his eyes. “Ah’s sorry, boss,” he whimpered, “but Marse Boolus would jest as soon land me wid an oar as not if Ah didn’t do what he tole me to.”
“It’s no use bothering with him,” said Bobby. “The damage is done now, and we’ll have to try to get out of this mess some way.”
“I suppose Boolus is chuckling now to think how he’s got even with us,” said Fred, clenching his fists. “I wish now he’d fallen out of that buggy onto some nice hard rocks instead of into soft sand.”
“Well we’re in a pretty pickle, anyway,” said Lee, as the full extent of the calamity began to dawn on him. “We’re somewhere about the middle of the swamp, without any way to get out unless we swim, and no provisions except a few fish.”
“Oh, it may not be quite as bad as that,” said Bobby. “How do you know there’s no way out except by the river? There’s probably some path through, if we can only find it.”
“Yes, but that’s a big if,” said Lee. “But I guess we might as well go back and get those fish and cook them. We’ll have to camp out to-night, anyway, and then see what we can do in the morning.”