“I dreffle glad we come an’ ’top out all night,” he said, showing his white teeth. “Mass’ George, go an’ shoot more duck, an’ Pomp cook um.”
“We haven’t finished that one,” I said.
“No, Mass’ George, no hab finish dat oder duck.”
“Well, go on; I’ve had quite enough.”
“Pomp had quite nuff too.”
“Then we’ll wrap it up in the napkin, and we’ll eat it by and by for lunch.”
“Yes; wrap um up an’ eat um bime by.”
I drew out the napkin, and Pomp shot the duck off the wooden spit on to the cloth, which, with due care to avoid the addition of sand, was folded up, and then I said—
“Now, Pomp, we must find the boat as we go back.”
“Mass’ George go back?” he said.