“Where?”
“Stolen. Nigger.”
“But where was it?” cried the boys together.
Mak pointed to the pigmy, who nodded and laughed, and by degrees the little party managed to elicit from their two scouts that ever since they started they had been in hiding near the ruins, waiting and watching in the belief that sooner or later whoever had stolen the rifle would come again for further plunder.
“But you have been away for days,” said Dean. “Have you been hunting too, so as to get something to eat?”
This was rather a long speech for Mak, to whom it was addressed, to fully comprehend, but when it had been repeated to him simplified as far as possible by Mark and the two men, the black nodded cheerfully and explained that he had waited every night till they were quite fast asleep, and then the pigmy had crept up like a dog or a baboon to help himself to what they wanted, and then stolen away again to watch.
“But he couldn’t have done that,” cried Mark; “certainly not when I was on guard. It must have been your turn, Dean, and you went to sleep.”
“That I declare I didn’t!” cried the accused, and the two boys now gazed severely at their men, who looked at one another, as if feeling guilty, “I swear I didn’t, messmate. I couldn’t have slept for thinking that some of the niggers would come stealing, and steal my life,” grunted Dan.
“Same here,” growled Buck.
A rough cross-examination ensued—a very hard one too, for Mak nodded his replies to fit his misunderstanding; but at last the investigators felt convinced that they were only listening to the truth, and that, thanks to his size, activity, and possible resemblance to some animal, the pigmy had had no difficulty about stealing into the camp for supplies.