“Here,” cried Peter, stuffing the gear into my arms, “take hold of that, Greenie, and look lively; the cacique is hungry.”
“I’m not Greenie,” I said; “if I was, Peter, old man, I’d pull your ears.”
“Oh, you’re not Greenie! Well, Jack, then, you shouldn’t be so like him in the moonlight. I’m going to put a black spot on one of your noses, so that I can tell t’other from which. Then I suppose I’d forget which I put the black spot on.”
“Better not try it on me,” I said.
The horse was loose now and free, and with a happy nicker he went trotting off to quench his thirst in the stream, previously to having his supper.
“Come on, boys, I’m starving. Good Ossian. Ah! you can be friendly enough now. Where is your kau (tent), Peter?”
“My cow, mon ami?”
“Yes, your kau.”
“We haven’t got a cow. We have some condensed milk.”
Castizo laughed.