“Black fellow all ’bout over there way!” said Jimmy to me in a whisper.
“How do you know?” I said quickly.
“Jimmy smell am!” he replied seriously. “Jimmy go look ’bout. Smell um black fellow, one eye peeping round um trees.”
“Yes, we have seen them too,” I said; and signing to him to follow, I found the doctor.
“The sooner we are off the better!” he said. “Now, Mr Francis, do you think you can lead us to the other side of the village, round by the north? the enemy are on the watch.”
Mr Francis turned his head without a word, and, leaning upon a stout stick, started at once; and we followed in silence, just as the stars were coming out.
It seemed very strange calling this savage-looking being Mr Francis, but when talking with him during his recovery from his wound one only needed to turn one’s head to seem to be in conversation with a man who had never been from his civilised fellows.
He went steadily on, the doctor next, and I followed the doctor; the rest of our little party gliding silently through the forest for quite three hours, when Mr Francis stopped, and it was decided to rest and refresh ourselves a little before proceeding farther.
The doctor had settled to leave Mr Francis here, but he quietly objected to this.
“No!” he said; “you want my help more now than ever. I am weak, but I can take you right to the hut where Carstairs is kept a prisoner. If you go alone you will lose time, and your expedition may—”