He too pointed to the east.
"Where, at Sidney?" asked Smith.
"I do not know," said Jack, who was wearied of the aimless talk. "You can ask my father, who is now an old man, and no good except to talk and eat. And very soon he will die, which will be a good thing, for now he cannot even catch fish."
And Big Jack dismissed Smith with a wave of his huge paw.
As they went to their tree, they saw the widowed woman sitting close to the pile of heads, and talking to them. The Baker shrank away, and got the other side of Smith. They lay down close together.
"Do you know who these people are?" asked Smith.
"Ain't got a notion," said the Baker.
"They are the descendants of convicts escaped a hundred years ago," said Smith.
And the Baker fairly gasped.