“Why, it’s Ashantee,” cried Norman, excitedly; and he made a rush at the spot where he had seen the strange-looking figure, and came upon it where it stood motionless with one foot against the opposite leg, and the tall stick or spear planted firmly upon the ground.
Click, click! came from the captain’s gun, as he ran forward shouting, “Quick, all of you, into the tent!”
“What are you doing here?” cried Norman, as he grasped the black’s arm.
“Tickpence. Got tickpence,” was the reply.
Norman burst into a roar of laughter, and dragged the black forward.
“Hi! father. I’ve taken a prisoner,” he cried.—“But I say, uncle, that blanket’s burning. What a smell!”
“No, no, don’t take it off,” said the captain; “let it burn now.”
Uncle Munday stirred the burning blanket about with a stick, and it blazed up furiously, the whole glade being lit up again, and the trembling women tried hard to suppress the hysterical sobs which struggled for utterance in cries.
“Why, you ugly scoundrel!” cried the captain fiercely, as hanging back in a half-bashful manner the black allowed himself to be dragged right up to the light, “what do you mean? How dare you come here?”
“Tick pence,” said the black. “You gib tickpence.”