“His skipper. That’s what they all are. Splendid workers too. Do more than regular niggers.”
“Do more, no doubt,” said Roberts thoughtfully. “But they certainly don’t look like agricultural labourers. Why, they’re a regular crew of all sorts.”
“Irregular crew, you mean,” said Murray. “That one to the left looks like an Arab.”
“Yes, and the one asleep with his mouth open and the flies buzzing about him looks to me like a Krooboy. Well, upon my word, old Croaker, they do look—I say, do you see that blackest one?”
“Yes; and I’ve seen them before, you know.”
“But he opened and shut his mouth just now. You didn’t see that, did you?”
“Yes, I saw it; he has had his teeth filed like a saw.”
“That’s what I meant, and it makes him look like a crocodile when he gapes.”
“Or a shark.”
“Well,” said Roberts, after a pause, “upon my word, Frank, they do look about as ugly a set of cut-throat scoundrels as ever I saw in my life.”