He could think of nothing else as he walked away, for these weapons meant a supply of food if he and Pete took to the woods, and that night he communicated the discovery to his companion.
“It ought to be easy to borrow a couple of them,” said Pete quietly—“zome night when the two gaffers are asleep. On’y one thing to hinder it, as I zee, for I don’t believe they shut themselves up, feeling as they do that we’re under lock and key.”
“What is to prevent me creeping in and getting them, Pete?”
“Dogs,” said the man quietly. “Now, if we was at home I could walk into Plymouth and go to a druggist’s shop, and for twopence buy zomething I knows of as would zend those dogs to sleep till we’d done what we wanted; but there aren’t no shops in the woods here.”
“And we haven’t found the boat, Pete.”
“And we haven’t found the boat, my lad. But here’s a little bit of a tool here I’ve got for you at last. Better one than mine. One of the blacks had been cutting up zome meat with it yesterday, and left it out on the bench—forgetted all about it—they’re good ones at forgetting; and zo I scrambled back and got hold of it, sharpened it up at the point, and made a wooden sheath for it, so as you can wear it in your belt under your shirt.”
“A knife!” whispered Nic excitedly as Pete thrust the weapon into his hand. “No; I don’t want to shed blood.”
“I didn’t say it was to kill men with, did I? S’pose one of them dogs had you by the throat, wouldn’t it be useful then? or to kill a deer out in the woods? or skin a ’possum? Might even be useful to stick into a ’gator’s throat. Better take it, master.”
Nic’s hand closed upon the handle of the keen blade, and he transferred it to his belt; when, as the hard sheath pressed against his side, he felt that, after all, it was one step towards liberty.
The next morning Pete told him that he had had another good hunt by the river-side, going as far as he dared, but without result.