It was a poor experiment upon which to depend as a means of saving the lives of three people; but, fortunately, it succeeded admirably, and there was no question but that the blacks fancied the sparks of fire had been produced by some supernatural agency.
“How did it happen that you dared venture on shore?” Gil asked, when the story was ended. “You said nothing could tempt you to run the risk of meeting the voudoos, and there can be no mistake about the men who came so near killing us.”
“I’se dun gone got er charm, an’ when de sailors wouldn’t cum ershore, dere was nuffin lef’ but fur me ter do my level bes’.”
“And it couldn’t be improved upon,” Jenkins said, as he patted the old fellow’s woolly head.
“It was mos’ly de charm,” Andy replied, modestly.
“That had precious little to do with it,” the mate said, emphatically. “The rocket and the man behind it did the business, and a thousand charms wouldn’t have frightened those villains away so quickly.”
“What made you spend so much time burning the vines with which we were tied?” Nelse asked. “They couldn’t have been used again.”
“I wasn’ erfeared ob dat, honey; but we wanter make dem debbils t’ink dat de ghostes dun took you off, ropes an’ all.”
“And it was a good idea, Andy,” Jenkins said. “Now, if we can only keep them at a proper distance until the yacht heaves in sight, we shall be all right.”
“I’se gwine ter dribe de whole bilin’ offer dis yere island,” the old man said, decidedly, much as if he was proposing a very simple piece of business.