“Well, why are you looking on in that contemptuous way?” I said at last, as I noted the play of his face.
“Dat not temshus, Mass’ George,” he said. “I only sit and fink what long time you are wash and dress.”
“That’s not long,” I said; “why, how long are you?”
“No time, Mass’ George. I go bed like am now, and get up like am now, and come on.”
“But do you mean to say you haven’t washed this morning?”
“How I ’top go to ribber an’ wash, when Mass’ George wait to be called? Hab good ’wim when we get to ribber.”
I finished dressing, and took Pomp into Sarah’s kitchen, where we both made a hearty meal, which was interrupted by Pomp insisting upon having the shot and powder pouches buckled on him at once, so that he might make sure of them, and not be defrauded of the honour of carrying them by any tricks on my part.
He did not look so pleased at having to carry the wallet which had been well stored ready for our use, but he submitted to have the strap thrown over his head, and passed one arm through. Then full of eagerness I shouldered the gun, and we started off into the forest, passing the clearing where the rattlesnake had been killed, and next passing on to the little river, up whose course we were to make our way, keeping a good look-out for the boat the while.
The morning was glorious, the sun piercing the low-lying mist, which rapidly grew more transparent, broke up, and seemed to dissolve away. The birds were piping and screaming in the trees, and as we reached the river, where all was light and sunshine, we started first a great white crane, which rose from the shallows and flew off, then a kingfisher with dazzling coat, and soon after came in sight of a little flock of rosy-winged flamingoes, with their curious, long, snaky, writhing necks, and quaintly-shaped bills, which always looked to me as if they were made to use upside down.
“Well, I nebber see!” cried Pomp at last, after stepping back, and preserving the most profound silence time after time.