“Well, Peter,” said Archie wearily, “I can propose nothing better.”
“I wish you could, sir.”
“So do I,” said Archie. “Well, we must try; and if they catch us, why, they can but bring us back. I don’t think they dare use their spears, for fear of what might follow when our people come to rescue us.”
“Oh, they won’t dare to savage us, sir. I believe these are Rajah Suleiman’s men, and he wants to keep friendly with the Major.”
“There I think you are wrong, Pete. If he wanted to keep friendly, he would not have set his men to attack our boat.”
“I don’t know, sir,” said Peter solemnly, “for there’s a deal of cunning and dodgery amongst these krisy chaps, and you never knows what games they may be at; and as to waiting for our Bri’ish Grenadiers to march up and find us, I’m thinking that we may wait till all’s blue. My old woman used to say—my granny, you know, as brought me up—‘Peter,’ she used to say, ‘I am going to give you a moral lesson, boy: don’t you wait for people to help you, my lad; you help yourself.’”
“That was very good advice, Pete,” said Archie, smiling, and uttering a deep yawn.
“Yes, sir; and that’s what I used to do.”
“Help yourself?”
“I didn’t mean that, sir. I used to hear it so often that I used to do as you did just now.”