“No see de way; an’ all de big ’gator go out for walk now, Mass’ George.”
“What time can it be?”
“Dunno, Mass’ George, o’ny know not morrow mornin’ yet.”
I looked about me, and tried to make out the forest path by which we should have to go; but all was dark as night could be, except overhead where a faint gleam showed where the moon should have been giving her light, had not the clouds and mist interposed.
I did not like the look of it, but on the other hand I was afraid to give up; I knew that my father would be anxious, perhaps setting out in search of me.
That last thought fixed me in my determination, and taking up the gun, I said firmly—
“Come along.”
“Mass’ George go shoot somefin?”
“No; let’s get back home.”
“No get home now. Too dark.”