"I'd rather not, sir. In fact, the plan that has come into my mind at this moment is for Sergeant Terry and myself to stain our faces and bodies with juice from the berries of the boka bush that is growing inside our lines. Then we'll rob two of the native prisoners of their clothing, under which we can each carry a service revolver and a creese. That is, sir, if you approve my plan."
Captain Freeman was silent for some moments.
"I'm afraid you're planning an especially desperate undertaking, Sergeant Overton. I quite understand your idea in dressing like natives. But if you are seen, you will be spoken to. It will be in the native tongue. What then? You can't answer in native speech."
"But I think, sir," argued Hal, "that you'll agree that there are probably men from several tribes under the datto's command. In that case many different tribal dialects will be spoken. Noll—pardon me, sir—Sergeant Terry and I can answer in any heathen-sounding, guttural sort of words, and look stupid."
"It's quite difficult, my lad, to improvise a pretended language on the spur of the moment."
"Hakka kado me no tonga, lakka prada estig ferente," rejoined Hal Overton, with a grin.
"Dikka mone peditti u nono mate ben," said Noll cheerfully.
"What language is that, lads?" demanded Captain Freeman.
"New Jersey hog-Latin, I imagine, sir," replied Sergeant Hal soberly.
"I do not believe, gentlemen, that we can send better scouts than Sergeants Overton and Terry," said Captain Freeman.