“That boy!”
“Why, we took you for savages,” said my uncle. “Was it you two who came to the fire last night?”
“And you shot at us,” said the boy, in a doleful voice.
“Shot at you?” cried my uncle angrily. “Of course I did. How dare you come prowling about our tent in the dead of night!”
“Didn’t prowl, sir,” said the boy humbly. “We could see your fire burning like a light as we come along, and we came straight to it, landed—and landed—and you came out, sir—came out, sir—and fired at us.”
“Then you should have shouted.”
“Yes, sir,” said the boy, “but we was afraid to—feared you’d fire at us.”
“But you see now, you came the wrong way.”
“Yes, sir,” said the boy, glancing at the carpenter; “we did come the wrong way.”
“Well, what is it? Did we leave anything behind? Very good of the captain to send you.”