“Indeed, but I have, Pete,” replied Nic. “Feel better?”
“No, zir. Never felt so ’shamed of myself in my life. Oh dear! oh dear! To think of my doing that! Where are we, zir? ’Most got to that t’other zattlement, aren’t uz?”
“What! where we rested for the night, Pete? No; I don’t think we are near that yet.”
“Then get nigh we must,” cried Pete, putting out his oar. “We’ve got to find some braxfuss there. What we had yes’day don’t zeem to count a bit. I zay, though, you don’t think they got another boat and passed us while we were asleep, do you?”
“No, Pete,” replied Nic, smiling; “and I don’t think that we shall dare to land at that plantation lower down. The man there would know we are escaped slaves, and stop us.”
“He’d better not,” said Pete, with a curious look in his eyes. “He’s the only man there.”
“There are several blacks.”
“Blacks!” cried Pete contemptuously. “I’m not afraid o’ them. It’s o’ no use, Master Nic; I’ve tried hard to bear it, and I can bear a deal, but when it comes to starvation it’s again’ my natur’. I must eat, and if he calls twenty blacks to stop me I mean to have zomething, and zo shall you. Why, lad, you look as if you’re half-dead wi’ want o’ zleep and a morsel o’ food. Nay, nay; you leave that oar alone, and cover your head up with those leaves while you have a good rest. By that time p’raps we may get a bit o’ braxfuss.”
“I’m not sleepy, Pete,” said Nic sadly.
“P’raps not, zir; but man must eat and he must zleep, so you lie back in the bottom of the boat. Now, no fighting agen it, zir; you worked all night, zo I must work all day.”