"The Indians consider the darky as an inferior being," Charley had confided to Walter in a whisper. "There are rumors that there is more than one negro slave in the heart of the Everglades. The Seminoles have a proverb, 'White man, Indian, dog, nigger,' which expresses their opinion of the colored race."
Chris' troubles reached their climax when the little party was seated around the fire with the Indians in the evening.
The chief, who had been watching the little darky closely all day, turned to Charley: "Me buy 'em," he said, indicating Chris with a wave of his hand. "Me buy nigger."
"I ain't no nigger," shouted Chris in a rage, "I'se a free-born black Englishman, dat's what I is."
Charley silenced the indignant little darky with a wave of his hand.
"He already has a master and is therefore not ours to sell," he said, while Chris bristled with indignation.
"Who master?" inquired the Seminole with an appraising glance at the sturdy little darky.
"A man called King Edward," said Charley gravely, and Chris' indignation subsided.
"Too bad," grunted the chief, and dropped the subject.
"What's that?" exclaimed Walter suddenly, as distant rifle shots echoed in the air, were repeated irregularly and finally ceased.