The old colored man was so startled by the sudden hail, breaking in on his whistling, that he nearly went overboard. He recovered himself, however, and called out:
"Whut—whut yo' all doin' at mah cabin?"
"Is this your place, Uncle?" asked Russ.
"It shore am. An'—an'—I bids yo' all welcome—I shore does, honey!" he added quickly, remembering his hospitality.
"We've made ourselves at home," said Mabel. "Oh, whoever you are, can you show us the way out of this wilderness?"
"Kin I show yo' all a way outen dish yeah woods? I shore kin, honey lamb! I knows dish yeah place laik a book, even if I cain't read. Where all does yo' all want t' go? Oh, wait a minute, though. Hole on! I done got t' ax yo' all some questions. Hab yo' all seen any photographers round 'bout yeah?"
"Photographers?" repeated Paul.
"Yais, sah! I done passed a steamer yist'day, an' dey all on board was monstrous peeved 'cause dey done lost der photographer. Yo' all know—he takes dese pictures dat twinkle laik stars—yo' know, slidin' pictures, I guess dey calls 'em."
"Do you mean moving pictures?" asked Russ, eagerly.
"Uh, huh! Dat's what I means, honey. All on board dish yeah steamer was pow'ful worried case de moving picture man an' some oders got lost. Yo' all didn't see 'em; did yo' all?"