The negro grinned again. "S'pose I done tell you where him lib?"
"If you knew why didn't you get it for yourself?"
Funnel-paint shook his head. "Them book I got savvy—I no savvy make him tell me," he said. "You dash me halluf them gum you get them book."
Austin lay silent, resting on one elbow, for a moment or two. He knew that book means anything which is written on in that country, and it occurred to him that if the gum had been hidden ashore, it was very probable that the man who buried it had made a rough sketch or other record of the spot. The document, it was conceivable, might have come into the negro's possession. Still, he was suspicious.
"There's another boy who speaks English in the headman's village," he said.
"Him only dam bushman—no savvy book, no savvy anyt'ing. Him them headman's boy. Headman he want everyt'ing."
"Ah!" said Austin, who was more dubious about his visitor's good faith than ever, since it was clear that it was his intention to trick his confederate out of his share of the plunder. "I suppose, since you swam off, you haven't the book about you?"
The negro let one eyelid droop a little. "You t'ink black man one dam fool?"
"No," said Austin, reflectively, "if you understand me, I should rather call you an infernal rogue. Any way, you lib for get out one time, and come back to-morrow. I'll palaver with them other white man by then, savvy?"
Funnel-paint unobtrusively laid a wet prehensile toe upon the haft of the knife, but Austin, who was careful not to betray the fact, noticed it.