“Well, rather,” said the man, with a peculiar smile.
“We shall have a kind of supper ready soon; so call off your men at once.”
“All right; only no games.”
“Treachery?” said the doctor; “I had no thought of anything of the kind.”
“Here, Black Jack, let go, and take the boys forward. No mumkull, baal, spear, baal, nulla-nulla. Plenty much eat soon. Get out.”
The man grunted, said a few words to his fellows, and they all trooped forward and squatted on the deck.
“Beg pardon, sir,” growled Bostock; “give ’em some ’bacco; there’s plenty.”
“All right,” said their leader; “give ’em plenty of ’bacco. That’ll keep ’em quiet for the night. Only I say, just a word of advice. Don’t try to play no tricks, for they’re about as nasty as a bag o’ snakes. Rile ’em or rile me, and they’ll bite. If they bite they kill, and if they kill you three there’ll be no work got out of ’em for a week. Understand?”
“No,” said the doctor, quietly.
“Then I’ll tell you: they’ll take you ashore, and make a fire, and cook you.”