“No make um go,” cried Jackum, slapping his thighs and dancing with glee.
“No; it’s a bad one; it won’t fly back.”
“Yes, fly bird come back.”
“But it doesn’t when I throw it.”
“No, won’t come back.”
“And it won’t when those black fellows throw.”
Black Jackum understood him perfectly and threw himself down on the hot sand to roll himself over in the exuberance of his delight.
“Look here,” cried Carey, growing more irritated; “you’re a cheat. You knew that thing wouldn’t go when you gave it to me. Get up, or I’ll kick you.”
He made a rush to put his threat in execution, but the black rolled over and sprang up laughing.
“White boy get wild likum big Dan. No fro boomerang. Look, see.”