“And you, Popo,” I asked; “are you glad to escape from the savages?”
“Yes, massa; dat I am,” answered Popo.
“And do you think your companion is the same?” I added, looking towards him.
“Yes, yes,” said the white boy, looking up at me.
“Why, you must be English; you have thoroughly understood what I said,” I exclaimed.
“Me tink so too,” observed Popo.
The commander, who had been listening to what we had been saying, now called Tamaku aft, and desired him to try if he could understand the white boy, who after he had last spoken seemed abashed, and could not be got to utter a word. Tamaku at once began to ask him questions, which he answered with apparent readiness in the same language, differing but slightly in sound.
“Can you make out how he came to be among the natives?” asked the commander, when Tamaku and the boy had ceased speaking.
“He not know much,” answered the Kanaka; “long time wid dem—say dey find him in a boat at sea, and bring him here and make him slavey.”
“Try and find out his name,” said the commander; “whether it is Tom or Dick, or Jack or Harry.”