“Very well, then; you can come off again to-morrow, and see if we wants anything else. And say, the next time that you brings off chickens, let ’em be chickens, not livin’ skelintons. You sabby?”
Again Oahika smiled, the smile of the man who wishes to convey the impression that he “sabbys” perfectly, while in reality he does nothing of the kind.
“That’s all right, then,” continued Brown. “Now you can git away ashore agin as fast as you like, for we’re goin’ to be busy here.”
The native, who probably comprehended the skipper’s gestures better than he did his words, at once turned and made toward the rail, but was recalled by Brown, who enquired, in an offhand, casual sort of way:
“Say, you, Oah—what’s-your-name—you don’t happen to have no sandalwood ashore there, I s’pose?”
“Sandalwood!” repeated the savage. “I think it some mans got a leetle. You want it sandalwood, Cap’n?”
“Well, I guess I could do with a little, if there was any goin’ cheap,” returned the skipper.
“You like it me ask them mans come see you, Cap’n?” demanded Oahika.
“Well, yes, I guess you may,” replied the skipper. “Ask ’em to come off to-morrow mornin’, bringin’ the wood with ’em, and tell ’em that if they’re willin’ to let it go cheap I’ll buy it off ’em.”
The savage intimated in his own peculiar fashion that it would afford him much pleasure to perform this trifling service for his esteemed friend and patron, and then took his leave, grinning with apparent satisfaction at the result of his morning’s work. The skipper stood watching the progress of the canoe until she had nearly reached the shore, and then he turned to me and remarked: