We were hurrying on all this time entirely under the guidance of the strange being who had set us free, but not without protests from the black, who was growing jealous of our guide and who kept on whispering:
“No go no farrer, Mass Joe, Jimmy fine a doctor an Mass Jack Penny. Hi come along Jimmy now.”
He was just repeating this in my ear when we were hurrying on faster, for the sounds of our pursuers came clear upon the wind, when our guide stopped short and fell back a few paces as a low angry growl saluted him from the darkness in front and he said something sharply to us in the native tongue.
His words evidently meant “Fall back!” but I had recognised that growl.
“Gyp!” I cried; and the growling changed to a whining cry of joy, and in an instant the dog was leaping up at my face, playfully biting at my hands, and then darting at Jimmy he began the same welcoming demonstrations upon the black.
“Mass Joe, Mass Joe, he go eat up black fellow. Top um away, top um away.”
“It’s only his play, Jimmy,” I said.
“Him eat piece Jimmy, all up leggum,” cried the black.
“Here, Gyp!” I cried, as the dog stopped his whining cry of pleasure, but growled once more. “Here,” I said, “this is a friend. Pat his head, sir, and—, where is he, Jimmy?”
“Black white fellow, Mass Joe?”