Hunting the Skipper Part 71

"Yes, yes; you said that before," cried Murray.

"Poor beggars, sir, they've been so ill-used that they think every white man is going to murder 'em."

"Well, let's show the poor fellow that we are not all savages; but we've begun pretty roughly, Tom, to win this one's confidence. You did give it him pretty hard."

"Well, yes, sir, I was a bit rough to him; but if I hadn't been he'd have got away."

"Now then, let me try. Here, my lad, I want your master."

"Ma.s.sa, sah?" cried the shivering prisoner. "Yes, sah. Ma.s.sa, sah!"

And as he spoke eagerly he made a s.n.a.t.c.h at the midshipman's ankle, caught it between both hands, and raising the lad's foot placed it quickly upon his forehead.

"Hullo! What do you mean by that?"

"Ma.s.sa! Ma.s.sa now, sah. Poor n.i.g.g.ah ma.s.sa."

"Oh, bother! Nonsense!" cried Murray. "No, no. Where's your master, Mr Allen?"

"Ma.s.sa Allen, sah. Good ma.s.sa, sah. Sick man; go die soon."

"Good master?"

"Yes, sah! Good ma.s.sa, sick bad, sah. Die, sah."

"Well, where is he--Ma.s.sa Allen?"

"House, sah. Go sleep, sah," said the man, growing eager and excited, and making an effort to replace Murray's foot upon his head.

"No, no; don't do that," cried the lad impatiently. "Now tell me, where is your master?"

"Ma.s.sa Allen, sah. House, sah. Go sleep, sah."

"It's very evident he does not know, Tom," said Murray. "What's to be done? Do you think we could get anything out of the others?"

"No, sir. If he don't know they don't."

"Well, what is best to be done?"

"Try t'others, sir. I don't think it's any good, but we might try."

"But we must catch them first."

"Oh, that's soon done, sir."

"But how?"

The big sailor laughed.

"When I was a youngster, sir, we boys used to get out in one of the Newlyn boats, sir--in Mount's Bay, sir, and trail a line behind to get a few mack'rel, sir, for our mothers. Well, sir, it was easy enough to trail the line and hook, but it warn't so easy always to get the bait; for we used to think the best bait was a lask."

"A what, Tom?"

"Lask, sir, and that's a strip out of the narrowest part of a mackerel, cut with a sharp knife down to the bone, so that when the hook was put through one end one side was raw fish and the other was bright and silvery."

"I see, Tom," said Murray.

"Nay, sir, you only fancy you can see it. If you could see it twirling and wiggling in the water when it was dragged after the boat and we pulled fast, you'd see it looked _just_ like a little live fish, and the mack'rel shoot theirselves after it through the water and hook theirselves. That's the best bait for a mack'rel, and after the same fashion one n.i.g.g.e.r's the best bait to catch more n.i.g.g.e.rs."

"Then you think we can get hold of more of the boat's crew by--"

"Yes, sir," said Tom, interrupting and grinning the while, "but without cutting a piece out of him with either a knife or a whip. Poor chaps, they get that often enough, I'll be bound. You only want to let this one see that he won't be hurt, and he'll soon bring the others up."

"But we've been so rough with him already. I'm afraid it will be a hard task."

"Not it, sir. They get so knocked about that a good word or two soon puts matters right again. You try, sir."

"Why not you, Tom? You seem to know their ways better than I do."

"Nay, sir, you try. See how he's watching of us, sir; he's trying to make out what we want him for, and he knows a lot of plain English. You try him, sir."

"What shall I say, Tom?"

"Oh, anything you like, sir. You're cleverer than I am, sir. Here, I know--tell him you want the other chaps to man the boat. They'll come fast enough if he calls 'em."

"Here goes, then, Tom; but I don't believe I shall do any good.--Here, Sambo!" he cried.

The man showed his glistening white teeth in a very broad grin and shook his head.

"Not Sambo?" said Murray. "Well, then, what is your name?"

"Caesar, sah--July Caesar."

"Well, Caesar, then. I want your master, Mr Allen."

"In de house, sah. De lilly house;" and the black pointed in the direction of the cottage. "Sick, bad, sah."

"Not there now, Caesar," said Murray.

"Big house, Plantashum," said the black sharply, and he pointed in quite another direction.

"Oh, at the plantation house?" said Murray.

"Yes, sah."

"Call your fellows, then, to row the boat to where he is," said the middy.

The black looked at him doubtfully.