“No mine no flog,” cried Nic.
“Mas Nic corbon budgery (very good). All come along.”
This brought out the other two grinning.
“Mine come fish?” cried Damper.
“No; I want to find Leather fellow. You boys pidney where he is.”
The faces ceased grinning, and looked as if carved out of some burned wooden stump, all hard, solid, and immovable.
“There, I know: so no nonsense. You all take me and
show me Leather fellow’s mandowie, and I’ll give you plenty damper, plenty mutton, plenty sugar and jam.”
“Mine no find mandowie (tracks),” said Rigar. “You pidney (know), Damper?”