Chapter Eleven.
“What’s that here mean as the doctor said, sir?” growled Bostock, when the last rustle of the growth made by their companion died out.
“Till you see me again,” said Carey.
“Why couldn’t he say it in plain English so as a man could understand him?”
“Don’t know,” said Carey, shortly. “Ask him when he comes back.”
Bostock chuckled and shook his head.
“I’d a deal rather we’d kep’ together, sir,” he said; “but I dessay he knows best. So we’ve got to wait six hours—six hours’ watch, and we mustn’t go very far away. Well, it’s a very pretty place, and the sand’s soft, and I mean to have some of them cocoanuts by-and-by.”
“How are you going to get at them?” said Carey, looking up at the trees. “I suppose I mustn’t try to climb one.”
“Not likely.”