“Amongst the sharks?”
“Ugh! I forgot all about the sharks, Mas’ Don. I say, think there are many of ’em about?”
“They say there are plenty, and we saw a monster, Jem.”
“So we did, my lad; so we did, and a nice lot o’ worry he’s got us in through stealing that boathook. But, look here, how do you feel now?”
“Heart-sick and tired of it all, Jem. I wish we had run off when we had the chance.”
“You do?”
“I do. See how we have been served: dragged from our homes, roughly used; bullied and ill-treated; and with that man’s word taken before ours. It’s too bad—too bad.”
“Well, it is, Mas’ Don,” whispered Jem. “But you see it was awkward. You couldn’t swear as you hadn’t thoughts of deserting.”
“Deserting?” said Don hotly. “I will not have it called deserting. I say it is only claiming our liberty, when we have been seized upon and treated like slaves.”
“What a weather-cocky way you have got, Mas’ Don. Only t’other day you was all on the other tack, and says, says you, ‘It’s deserting, and cowardly,’ and a lot more to that tune, and the way you went on at me, sir, made my hair curl.”