“That’s his way of poking fun, Mr Dean, sir,” said Buck, turning to the boys. “Rum chap, ain’t he? He’s got a lot of comic in him sometimes. He do make me laugh. No, Dan, mate, you stick to the spade; you don’t have so far to stoop as I should, and I shouldn’t like you to get a crick in your back by heaving up them loads, which are pretty lumpy sometimes; and I will say that for you:—you did always fill them for me, as much as they would hold.”
“Well,” said Sir James good-humouredly, “settle it between you, my lads, for the doctor is, I am sure, anxious to go on.”
“Thank you, Sir James; I am. Still, this is an interesting episode, and one that I am sure the boys would not have liked to miss.”
“That we shouldn’t,” they cried, in a breath. “But what’s going to be done with the snake?” said Dean. “It won’t be in the way.”
“No,” said Mark, “and I suppose it isn’t likely to come to life again; but it won’t do to have it lying there in the sun.”
“No,” echoed Dean, with a look of disgust; “it smells bad enough even now.”
“Look here,” said Mark, “we will get rid of it at once. Take it away, Mak;” and partly by signs he explained his wishes.
The black smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and spoke to his little companion, who turned an enquiring look upon Mark, who nodded at once as if to say, Yes, I wish it.
A word or two passed between the two, and Mak turned to Dan, signing to him that he wanted him to come with him.
“What does he want, Dan?” cried Dean. “Knife, sir. All right, messmate; I’ll come.” The pigmy had started off, dodging in and out amongst the thick bushes, and stopped directly after by a long stout cane, which he caught hold of and dragged out straight, signing to the little sailor to use his knife.