“Jackum ’top ’long doc-tor too.”
“But it is bad. Big Dan mumkull—kill. Shoot powder.”
“Jackum don’t care fig,” said the man, nonchalantly. “Jackum baal want be mumkull.”
“But you will be killed if you stop,” said Carey, excitedly.
The black laughed softly.
“Jackum be mumkull, Jackum ’top? Car-ee no kill Jackum. Like Jackum lots. Give Jackum ticky-ticky.”
“You don’t understand,” cried Carey. “Big Dan will kill us all if we stop.”
“Hey? Big Dan brokum.”
“Going to shoot. Powder—gun.”
“Ho!” exclaimed the black, who seemed now to have some idea of there being danger. “Car-ee no ’top. Come ’long shore. Eat snake.”