“They all seem to have a good deal of cheek,” said Roberts coolly.
“Look here; I’d better warn the Colonel.”
“No need, old fellow. He knows what he’s about. These niggers are precious cunning, but it’s generally little child’s deceit, and that’s as transparent as a bit of glass. Don’t be alarmed. Old Graves can see through any tricks of that kind, and Wrayford hasn’t been on this station a twelvemonth without picking up a few native wrinkles.”
“Pst! Listen to what they’re saying.”
“Can’t: it’s rude,” said Roberts.
“Not at a time like this, when perhaps men’s and women’s lives are at stake.”
“All right; let’s listen, then. What’s the boss saying?”
“I don’t like it, Wrayford. These are part of the tribe that tried to destroy us as we came up yesterday, and now they find we have escaped them they want to make friends.”
“Well, we want the tribes to be friendly.”
“Yes, but not with sham friendliness, to lull us into security, and then, after waiting their time, to join their fellows in a general massacre.”