“From home!” said the lieutenant keenly. “Where do you call home?”
“Yonder,” said the American, with a jerk of his head. “You ain’t got no home here, and it’s a mercy that you haven’t been swamped before now. Where have you come from?—the Cape?”
“No,” said the lieutenant; “but look here, sir, what are you, and what are you doing out here?”
“Sailing now,” said the American.
“But when you are ashore?”
“Rubber,” said the man.
“What, trading in indiarubber?”
“Shall be bimeby. Growing it now—plantation.”
“Oh,” said the lieutenant, looking at the speaker dubiously. “Where is your plantation?”
“Up the creek yonder,” replied the American, with another nod of his head towards the coast.