“I think it good you come—quick.”
“Why?”
The half-breed shrugged. Then his hands moved in an expressive gesture.
“One thing. Two thing. I mak think it good you come quick,” he said. “Boss McLagan go by big ship. All the devil mans get him, sure. Plenty devil mans by big ship. I know. I see him. Him call boss all time so he go crazy, sure. Boss look at him ship. He hear him call. All time call. So boss mak forget all thing. Him mak this trip with me this night? Oh, no. Devil man call him quick. Him listen. It not good. Boss go right down by big ship, so devil man kill him all up. Sure. One thing.”
The worried man raised a lean, dark finger to count the item. Then he raised a second finger beside the first.
“Two thing,” he went on. And now the widening of his eyes lessened. They closed to slits from which all his superstitious awe had passed. “I not know this two thing sure,” he said thoughtfully. “I just think him. I mak up dis river. I meet canoe. I see dis man, I tell you an’ boss McLagan. Him dis man I see one time, two time, by the coast. Him go down river. I come right here. What him mak go down river I not guess. He bad man. Much bad. I see him eye look all time bad. Him eye lak devilfish. Oh, yes. Bad. Why him go down river? I not know. Him look all time for some thing. I not know. You mak this trip right now, quick. Then we mak him coast so quick this bad man not know us there. No.” He pointed in a low easterly direction. “Him sun by that place, then us with boss McLagan sure. I go lak hell quick.”
Peter Loby wanted to laugh at the simple earnestness of this creature whose benighted mind was so full of the spectres his forbears had bred into it. He wanted to deride out of his superiority and enlightenment. But somehow he refrained from doing so.
“You say you don’t know this man? Yet you’re plumb sure he’s bad? Why?” he asked sharply.