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“Okopa no care one lilly bit, but slaver man say him ship come fire s’pose no gib massa up; so me say what time white man come, me gib um chop and gib um coat, and me tell him sleep. What time me come see he run away, he be tief.”
All this seemed very curious to me, for certainly Hararu, when he thought I was a Spaniard, was about to have me killed, and as that did not say much for his fear of the Spaniards, I ventured to suggest this to him.
“Dat palaver true, but what time me carey kill Spagnole me no sabey dat oder Spagnole ship lib for riber. One me sabey break for bar; me tink dat all.”
“But now,” I said, “the Spaniards, if they care about catching me, will know that I can’t go about in the jungle by myself, and will soon find out where I am.”
“Dat be so,” said Jack Sprat, “so what time chicken cry my boy take you long way, and s’pose men come look, no catch Inglishman.”
I was fain to be satisfied with this, and when we all got into the fetichmen’s village Hararu was at once taken to see the big snake, which had now gorged the goat and was lying torpid. He came to me and said I must be a very big fetich, or otherwise the snake would have attacked me.
I wondered at this, as the priest at the snakes’ house at Whydah had said the very same thing. I was very glad to hear it, but I did not think, notwithstanding Jack Sprat’s kindness to me, that his gratitude would go so far as resisting the Spaniards if they came up to search his village for me. I was sure that Pentlea and Camacho, if they had not been lost in the schooner on the bar, would not believe in any fetich story, or that Jack Sprat and his people could not find me.