“Yes,” said Perry. “We’ve been a week here, and I get so sick of it: I never move without there being some one after me; and the worst of it is, you don’t see him coming, but find him watching you from behind a rock, or out of a bush.”
“Yes,” said Cyril, “it isn’t nice. They crawl about like snakes, and almost as quietly.”
“Don’t matter,” said John Manning, with another chuckle. “We can be as cunning as they. How have you young gents got on since the colonel give his orders?”
“Pretty well,” said Cyril. “Of course it’s of no use to try and get roots or cuttings, they look too sharp after us; but I’ve found some seed, and he has got more than I have.”
“How much have you got, both of you together?” asked the old soldier, with his eyes twinkling.
“Nearly a handful, I should say,” replied Cyril.
“A handful, sir! Why, what’s that? I’ve got quite half a gallon.”
“You have?” cried Perry. “Father will be so pleased.”
“Course he will, sir,” said John Manning, with a self-satisfied smile. “‘Get every seed you can,’ he says, ‘and they’ll hardly notice you.’
“‘Right, sir,’ I says, and I set to work quietly, going a bit here, and a bit there, in among the trees, making believe I was making for them cocoa-nut leaves as the Indians chew; and whenever I caught one of the Injuns watching me, I picked a leaf, and began to chew it, and nodded at him, and said bono, bono. You should have seen how he grinned and showed his teeth at me, Master Cyril, and I could see he was thinking what a fool this Englishman was. But I wasn’t quite so stupid as he thought, eh?”