“Open your eyes, you foolish child,” I called, for with them still tightly shut she was feeling her way into the house.
“Can’t longa Goggle Eye,” she answered, and dropping the hammer on the ground, slipped through the doorway.
“Bring me the hammer, Goggle Eye,” I said, turning to him, only to find that his eyes were shut too.
“You silly old thing,” I said, “playing baby-tricks,” for I thought they were having a game of something like white children’s “saw you last;” “bring me that hammer at once, I can’t stand on this ladder all day.” But he would not move or open his eyes till I told him that Bett-Bett had gone away. When we had finished the creeper, I sent him to the creek for a bucket of water and called Bett-Bett to come and pull up weeds. She came, but as she worked kept one eye on the creek, and the minute that Goggle Eye’s head appeared over the banks, walked towards the house.
“Bett-Bett,” I said sternly, “stay here,” for I was tired of their silly games.
“Can’t, Missus,” she answered, stopping but shutting her eyes. “Goggle Eye little bit father belonga me.”
“I can’t help that,” I said, losing all patience. “Stay here, I want you both.”
She stayed, but old Goggle Eye stopped short. He called a lubra, who came and shrieked out something, and Bett-Bett crying: “Must, Missus, straightfellow,” ran round the house to the far side.
“Whatever is the matter with you all?” I said, for I saw now they were not playing a game. “Come here, Goggle Eye, and tell me what this all means. And, Bett-Bett, you stay where you are.”
His Majesty came, and sitting down under the verandah, began to tell of one of the strangest customs that the blacks have.