“Short for Bahama,” explained the captain. “That’s the only name he has. He’s a Bahama man; turned up here a few years ago, and been hangin’ around the river ever since.”
“Looks as if he might have just stepped out of an African jungle.”
“His father probably did,” was the captain’s answer.
Ba needed no truck for the transfer of the trunks. He carried them to the pier, one at a time, balanced on his woolly head. Then the two ladies were seated in one boat and the other was tied astern to carry Andy and the baggage. But the negro, being a skilled waterman, took the captain’s place in the forward boat and the captain joined the boy in the other craft.
“Isn’t it great, mother?” called out Andy from the rear boat. “Let’s stay all winter.”
“It is certainly beautiful,” answered his mother. “I wish your father could be here. But we can’t stay. You must get back to school.”
The boy glanced slyly at Captain Anderson and drew down his mouth dolefully.
“We ain’t got any time to waste on this thing, Captain. Can’t we start her to-day?” he whispered.