“Not they, sir,” put in Shaddy. “Sun soon coats ’em over and takes the juice out of them. They won’t trouble your nose, Master Rob, sir, trust me; and as to drying ’em on shore, that would be a very good plan in every way but one.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why, that it would be very convenient, sir, and the meat would dry nicely; but when we wanted it you may take my word it wouldn’t be there.”
“Would some one steal it?” cried Rob. “No; you told me there were no Indians about.”
“So I did, sir; but there are hundreds of other things would take it.”
“Hang it up in a tree, then.”
“Ready for the vultures to come and carry it off? That wouldn’t do, sir. No; there’s no way of doing it but hanging it up in your boat. The animals can’t get at it, nor the ants neither, and the birds are afraid to come.”
“I did not think of that,” said Rob apologetically.
“No, sir, s’pose not. I used to think as you did. I didn’t want to have anything that might smell on my boat, and I did as you advised till I found out that it would not do. Don’t take too much at a time,” he growled to the man who was loading himself, “and mind and lay out all the pieces separate. Is the fire burning?”
The man replied in his own tongue, and went off.