“Come, come, my man,” said Drew, sternly, “keep to your work. This is no time for playing.”
“All right, sir, but please speak to Tommy Smith. Man don’t want big nuts chucked at his head.”
“Who’s a-chucking nuts?” cried Smith, indignantly, and he began to force his way back into sight of his companions.
“Why, you did, and hit me just now.”
“Sweer I didn’t!” cried Smith. “Here, hullo! Drop that, will you? Who was that?”
A great nut, half as big as a man’s head, had struck the speaker on the shoulder.
“Why, there’s someone up in that tree throwing at us!” said Drew.
“Yes, I see him,” cried Wriggs, “that big tree, just where it’s getting light. Here, I see you: leave off will yer?”
“It’s the natives, sir,” said Smith, in a warning voice. “Get your guns ready, they’ll be shooting pysoned arrows directly.”
“I see him plain, now, sir. He’s only a little black chap. Yes, there’s two on ’em. Well, upon my word, if they aren’t two monkeys!”