“Well, I dare say there’ll be salmon in it, same as there is at home.”
“Tchah!” cried Humpy; “not here. This is foreign abroad man. You’ll get no salmon now.”
“Well, any fish’ll do,” said another of the men. “The place don’t look bad, and anything’s better than being shut down below them decks. ’Nough to stifle a man. I know what I’m going to do, though, along with them as like to join me.”
“You’re going to do what I tells you,” said Humpy Dee sourly; “I’m going to be head-man here; and if you don’t you’ll find yourself wishing you hadn’t been born.”
The man growled something in an undertone, and Humpy made an offer at him as if to strike, causing his companion in misfortune to flinch back to avoid the expected blow.
“Look here, boys,” said Humpy; “if every one here’s going to try to do things on his own hook we shall do nothing, so what you’ve got to do is to stick by me. We’re not going to be sold here like a gang o’ black slaves.”
“But we are sold,” said the man who had shrunk away.
“Never mind that; we’re not going to work, then,” said Humpy. “We’re going to slip off into the woods, get to that there river, and do something better than spear or bale out salmon. We’re going to take the first boat we see and get round to the coast, and then keep along till we find a ship to take us off.”
“Well, that’s what I meant,” said the other man.
“Then you’ll be all right,” said Humpy.