“Then this Huggins is the real master; eh, boy?”
“Dat’s the trufe, sah. Ebbery boy in plantation ’fraid of Massa Huggum.”
“Well, look here, my sable friend, please understand this: nobody here is afraid of your Mr Huggins. Show us the way to the plantation, and if he dares to touch you I’ll take him on board, and the boatswain’s mate shall tie him up and give him the cat—flog him; do you understand?”
“Mass’ say give Mass’ Huggum whip?”
“Yes, or any one else, boy. Now then, show us the way.”
“Massa say quite sewer?”
“Yes, quite sure. Now then, lead on.”
The black grinned at everybody in turn, and tramped along by the edge of the sluggish stream for some hundred yards before stopping short by the trampled bank which was plainly marked, and the commencement of a rough path was seen running in amongst the trees.
The lieutenant gave orders for the men to land, a couple of boat-keepers were left, and the well-armed crew were ready for starting when a black face suddenly presented itself peering round a good-sized tree-trunk and gazing curiously at the newcomers.
Murray was the first to catch sight of the fresh comer and draw the lieutenant’s attention to his appearance.