“Jem; Ngati; come on,” said Don.
“Oh, then you mean to fight, do you?” growled Mike. “Come on then, mates. I think we can give ’em a lesson there.”
“Mas’ Don,” whispered Jem, “it’s no good to fight again guns, and my shoulder’s a reg’lar dummy. Let’s give in civil, and go with them. We’ll get away first chance, and it do make us six again’ any savages who may come.”
“Savages!” said Don angrily; “why, where would you get such savages as these? The Maoris are gentlemen compared to them.”
“That’s my ’pinion again, Mas’ Don; but we’d better get on.”
“But why do they want us with them?”
“Strikes me they’re ’fraid we shall tell on them.”
“Tell on them?”
“Yes; it’s my belief as Master Mike’s been transported, and that he’s contrived to get away with these two.”
“And we are to stop with three such men as these?”