“Good man—good man, Massa Hemming,” he kept saying all the time. “Take care, bad man come off shore.”
As soon as he landed, off he darted again through the mangrove bushes, and was lost to sight.
“He seems to be an old friend of yours, sir,” observed Murray when he got back.
“Yes, I find that he is a lad I once, when he was a young boy, jumped overboard to save in the West Indies after he had been taken out of a slaver,” answered Hemming carelessly. “He made me out when we were in the river before taking the Spanish schooner, and has ever since been watching for an opportunity to speak to me. I cannot make out exactly what he wishes to guard us against—some treachery, I conclude. I could not fancy that he would have recollected me so long. It shows that blacks have grateful hearts.”
Hemming sympathised much with Murray and Adair, for he knew of their attachment to Jack, and he fully believed that he had been lost with the rest. Bitter and sad were their feelings. “Oh, Jack, Jack!” muttered Adair in a tone of grief, “are you really gone?” The flotilla of boats proceeded some way farther, when a large canoe was seen paddling out towards them from the shore. A burly negro sat in the stern and made a profound salaam with his palm-leaf hat as he approached.
“Me first pilot in dis river,” he shouted with a stentorian voice, “take me board—me come show way.”
Hemming ordered his crew to cease rowing, and took him into his boat to hear what he had got to say for himself. He had, however, exhausted nearly all his vocabulary in his first address, and there was some difficulty in understanding him. In vain Hemming tried to gain some information about the missing boat and her crew. The negro either knew nothing or was resolved not to tell. At last he produced a book of certificates, and when Hemming had glanced over them he burst into a fit of laughter, and handed them back. The big negro looked exceedingly indignant, and, striking his breast, repeated vehemently—
“Me good man—me show way.”
Many of the certificates had been far from complimentary to the negro, but still Hemming thought that he might be useful as a pilot, till he recollected the warning he had just before received.
“This is undoubtedly the very fellow I was to expect,” he said to himself. “No, no, you go on shore; we can do without you,” he exclaimed, addressing the negro.