“They will not take us, Pete; we shall be looked upon as criminals.”
“Not if the skipper wants men,” said Pete, laughing softly. “Long as a man can work hard, and is strong, and behaves himself, he won’t ask any questions.”
The time went on, and there seemed to be no likelihood of any captain asking questions; for in spite of keeping a sharp watch, neither Nic nor Pete could obtain the information they wanted. The boat seemed to disappear in the most mysterious way after being used by the settler or his overseer, and Nic grew more and more puzzled, and said so to his companion.
“Yes, it gets over me zometimes, Master,” said Pete; “but one has no chance. You see, there’s always people watching you. It aren’t as if it were on’y the masters and the dogs, and the niggers who are ready to do anything to please old Zaunders; there’s old Humpy Dee and the others. Humpy’s always on the lookout to do me a bad turn; and he hates you just as much. He’s always thinking we’re going to get away, and he means to stop it.”
“And this all means,” said Nic, with a sigh, “that we must be content to stay as we are.”
“Don’t mean nothing o’ the kind,” said Pete shortly. “It’s a nice enough place, and there’s nothing I should like better than staying here a bit, if we could go about the river and swamp and woods, fishing and shooting, and hunting or trapping; but one gets too much zun on one’s back, and when it’s always chopping weeds with a hoe, and the weeds grow faster than you can chop, one gets tired of it. Pretty country, Master Nic; most as good as home, only zun is a bit too warm.”
Nic sighed.
“That’s ’cause you wants to write letters and get ’em sent, Master Nic, I know; but don’t you worry ’bout that. You can’t send letters here like you do at home, so it aren’t no use to worry about what you can’t do. Worry ’bout finding the boat, dear lad; that’s better than letters.”
“I have worried about it,” said Nic, “but it is of no use till we get a chance to go and wander about to try and discover where it is kept.”
“And that the skipper and old Zaunders won’t let us do, you zee,” said Pete quietly. “They’re a wicked pair, both on ’em. Might let us loose a bit on Zundays; but not they. Zunday and week-days all the zame. They’ve got us, and they mean to have their penn’orth out on us. Never thought as I should have all my strength turned into sugar for some one else to eat. There, work away; old Humpy’s watching us, and he’ll go and tell the skipper we’re hatching eggs.”