“Well,” said Jack Penny solemnly, “I hope he will. I like Jimmy, he makes me laugh, and though it hurts my back I like laughing. It does me good. I never used to have anything to laugh at at home. Father used to laugh when he kicked me, but it never seemed funny to me, and I never used to laugh at that.”
“Well, Jack Penny, I dare say the black will give you something to laugh at before long, for I don’t suppose it will be long before he is back.”
Chapter Eighteen.
How I nearly had an Arrow to drink.
We were soon on the way towards the interior again, and the doctor and I had set to work trying to obtain some information from Ti-hi, and also from Aroo, another intelligent looking follower who had been one of the prisoners made by the captain of the burnt schooner.
It was hard work, but we were daily getting to understand more and more of the commoner words of conversation, and by degrees we managed to make out that the reason why we had not come upon any native village was that the nearest was still many days’ journey distant, but that if we changed our course and went down to the sea-shore we should soon find signs of occupation.
But I felt that this would be of no use, for if my father had been anywhere on the coast he must have come in contact sooner or later with one or other of the trading vessels, whose captains, even if they could not bring him away on account of his being a prisoner, would certainly have reported somewhere that they had seen a white captive, and the news must have spread.
“He must be right in the interior somewhere,” I said; “and I’m sure we can’t do better than keep on.”