“No, I want to pidney,” cried Nic. “Here, Bung, who killed the sheep, then?”
“No pidney. Soon find.”
The man, imitated by his fellows, began to search about, and soon took up a barefoot trail and pointed to a drop of blood now and then where it lay dried upon a leaf.
“Could Leather have killed a sheep and taken it away?” thought Nic. “No—impossible!” and he was following the blacks in a hesitating spirit, when Brookes stopped short.
“What is it?” cried old Sam, imitating his action.
“I ain’t going to walk into no hambudges,” growled Brookes.
This roused Nic into action.
“Here!—Hi! Bung, all of you stop!” he cried, and the blacks paused and waited till they came up, looking at their young master inquiringly.
“Find tracks?” asked Nic.
“Plenty mine find mandowie.”