The evening was calm and beautiful, and the troublesome insects not so numerous as usual,—probably owing to the nature of the ground. One or two monkeys showed themselves for a moment, as if to enquire who was there, and then ran away screaming; a porcupine also crossed their path, and several small bright snakes, of a harmless species, glided over the rocks, and sought refuge among the small bushes; but beyond these there were few of the sights and sounds that were wont to greet them in the forest.
"I think things look well to-night," remarked Martin as he threw down a bundle of sticks which he had gathered for the fire; "we shall have a comfortable snooze for certain, if the mosquitoes don't wake up."
"I'm not so sure of that," replied Barney, striking a light with flint and steel and stooping to puff the smouldering spark into a flame. "I've larned by exparience that ye niver can be—puff—sure o' nothin' in this—puff—remarkable country. Jist look at Darkey now," continued the Irishman, sitting down on a stone before the fire, which now began to kindle up, and stuffing the tobacco into his pipe with his little finger. "There he is, a livin' Naygur, aliftin' of the provision-bag out o' the canoe. Well, if he was all of a suddent to turn into Marmoset an' swaller himself, an' then jump down the throat of Grampus, and the whole consarn, canoe and all, to disappear, I don't think that I would be much surprised."
"Would you not, Barney? I suspect that I should be, a little, under the circumstances; perhaps the old Nigger would be more so."
"Niver a taste," continued Barney. "Ye see, if that was to happen, I would then know that it was all a drame. I've more than wance expected to wake up since I comed into furrin parts; the only thing that kapes me in doubt about it is the baccy."
"How so, Barney?"
"Why, bekase it tastes so rael, good luck to it! that I can't git myself to think it's only a drame. Jist look, now," he continued, in the same tone of voice; "if it wasn't a drame, how could I see sich a thing as that standin' on the rock over there?"
Martin glanced towards the spot pointed out by his friend, and immediately started up with surprise.
"Hallo! Barney, that's no dream, I'll vouch for it. He's an Indian, and a very ugly one too, I declare. I say, old fellow, do you know what sort of savage that is?"
"Not know," answered the trader, glancing uneasily at the stranger.