“Takee plisoner to mandalin. Mandalin man put on heavy chain, kick flow in boat, put in plison, no give to eat, and then choppee off allee head. Makee hurt gleat deal mo’. Velly solly for plisoner. Bette’ make big fi’ and bu’n allee now.”
Mr Brooke smiled and looked at me, and I laughed.
“We’d better change the subject, Herrick,” he said. “I’m afraid there is not much difference in the cruelty of the act.”
“No, sir,” I said, giving one of my ears a rub. “But it is puzzling.”
“Yes, my lad; and I suppose we should have no hesitation in shelling and burning a pirates’ nest.”
“But we couldn’t steal up and set fire to their junks in the dark, sir?”
“No, my lad, that wouldn’t be ordinary warfare. Well, we had better run into one of these little creeks, and land,” he continued, as he turned to inspect the low, swampy shore. “Plenty of hiding-places there, where we can lie and watch the junks, and wait for the Teaser to show.”
“Velly good place,” said Ching, pointing to where there was a patch of low, scrubby woodland, on either side of which stretched out what seemed to be rice fields, extending to the hills which backed the plain. “Plenty wood makee fire—loast goose.”
I saw a knowing look run round from man to man.
“But the pirates would see our fire,” I said.