“And ’twix’ you and me, Master Nic, I suppose it’s being a bit of a coward, but I dursen’t go no more. I aren’t afraid o’ things you can see; but when you’re down by the water o’ nights listening to the strange birds making queer noises, and the big bats whuzzing round you, to say nothing of the ’gators walloping about at the edge, and other gashly things zeeming to be lying wait for you, it’s a bit too much for me.”
“It must be very nervous work, Pete.”
“Last night about settled me that we must go right up-country or through the woods, for I trod on a big snake, and felt it twissen round my leg. Ugh! I don’t mind a conger, because, even if he bites you, it’s on’y a bite, and it gets well; but a snake! Why, they tell me—leastwise one of the blacks did—as a bite from one of the rattlesnakes’ll finish you off in ’bout an hour.”
“But you were not bitten?”
“S’pose not, and I’ve been thinking since I must ha’ trod on the gashly thing’s head. Anyhow it did scare me, and I mean to chop every one I zee while I’m hoeing. I have killed four since we’ve been here.”
“You must not try it again, Pete,” said Nic.
“Then we shall have to take to the woods, master, for I don’t zee any chance o’ getting the boat.”
That day, while the two prisoners were hoeing together, the settler came round, stood watching them for a time, and then came nearer and examined their work, saw nothing to complain of, but still being dissatisfied, he turned upon Pete.
“Here, you get chattering too much with this lad,” he cried; “be off across to the long corn-field behind the house and join that gang. Work with them, and send black Jupe here to take your place.”
“Yes, master,” said Pete quietly; and as he shouldered his hoe and the settler walked away, he made an offer at him with the hoe, when one of the dogs growled savagely.