“Myall black fellow no see, no hear. Mine glad. Come tell Marmi.”
The captain was nearer than they thought, for they had not gone many steps before they were challenged, and the voice was his.
“Back safe, father,” panted Norman, who was terribly excited.
“Why have you been so long?” said the captain shortly. “The anxiety has been terrible.”
“Hush! don’t talk loud. There is a party of black fellows on the other side of that ridge;” and he rapidly told the narrative of their escape.
“So near the camp, and quite ignorant of our being here.—Will they come this way in the morning, Shanter?”
“Mine don’t know. All go along somewhere—fine sugar-bag—fine grub—fine possum. Wait see.”
“Yes; we must wait and see,” said the captain, thoughtfully. Then to the black, “They will not come to-night?”
“Baal come now. Eat, sleep, all full,” replied Shanter. “Big white Mary gib Shanter damper?”
“Hungry again?” said the captain angrily. “But make haste back. They are in sad alarm at the camp.”