Noises of the Night.
“Not asleep, my lad?” said a voice at his elbow as Rob crept out from under the awning to the extreme stern.
“You, Shaddy? No, I can’t sleep. It all seems so strange.”
“Ay, it do to you,” said the man in a husky whisper. “You’ve got it just on you now strong. You couldn’t go to sleep because you thought that them four Indian chaps forward might come with their knives and finish you and drop you overboard—all of us.”
“How do you know I thought that?”
“Ah, I know!” said Shaddy, with a chuckle. “Everybody does. I did first time. Well, they won’t, so you needn’t be afeared o’ that. Nex’ thing as kept you awake was that you thought a great boa-constructor might be up in the tree and come crawling down into the boat.”
“Shaddy, are you a witch?” cried Rob.
“Not as I knows on, my lad.”
“Then how did you know that?”
“Human natur’, lad. Every one thinks just like that. Next you began thinking that them pretty creeturs you can hear singing like great cats would swim across and attack us, or some great splashing fish shove his head over the side to take a bite at one of us. Didn’t you?”