“All? Nonsense,” said Stan wearily. “But we’ve driven them away.”
“Dlive allee ’way? Yes,” said Wing, nodding his head a good deal. “Shoot, killee, flighten. Fly ’way like clows when shoot. But soon fo’get. Come back again like clows.”
“Come back like the crows?” said Stan.
“Yes. Shoot gun, all fly ’way. Fo’get soon; come back again to get good t’ings.”
“Do you mean you think the pirates will come back and attack?”
“Yes. Wing suah. Some day.”
“Do you think he is right?” said Stan, turning to his lieutenant.
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” was the reply. “Not for some days, of course; but they have been disappointed of the plunder, and knowing it is here, they’ll come again to try and get it and to pay us out for the number we have killed and wounded. There! don’t talk about it now. Let’s see about a meal being got ready.—You, Wing, I think you could leave Mr Blunt as he is. He can’t do better than sleep.”
“No do betteh,” said the Chinaman. “You say, go get dinneh leady? Wing glad. Do evelybody muchee good.”
“See about it, then,” said Stan, “while we go and say a few words to the coolies—eh? Don’t you think they ought to be praised for what they have done?”