Hunting the Skipper Part 78

"Dose n.i.g.g.ah foots," he whispered, picking out carefully the trails of four pairs of footsteps which had pa.s.sed to where they stood, evidently coming to an end. "Yes, sah; dose n.i.g.g.ah foots. Carry Ma.s.sa Allen.

All 'tick down deep in de mud."

"Ah, to be sure!" cried Murray. "I see."

"Dey get tire' carry Ma.s.sa Allen long way. No, Caesar t'ink Ma.s.sa Allen say he walk bit now, and jump down. Dose Ma.s.sa Allen foots. Got shoe on. Ma.s.sa officer see?"

"To be sure he does, darkie. Well done! You see, Mr Murray?"

"Oh yes, sir; I can see now he shows me."

"Yes; young buccra officer see Ma.s.sa Allen shoe 'tick down in de mud.

Dose black n.i.g.g.ah foots," continued the black, pointing.

"How do you know they are black footsteps?" asked Murray.

"All a toes 'tick out wide," replied the man promptly; and he raised one of his own feet with the toes spreading widely, stepped to a soft patch of green-covered mud, and pressed his foot down and raised it again.

"Dah," he continued; "Ma.s.sa buccra see? Dat black n.i.g.g.ah foots, and dat are white man foot. Look toopid all queezum up in hard boot. Dat Ma.s.sa Huggin foots."

"Ah!" cried the lieutenant eagerly. "How do you know, darkie?"

"Ma.s.sa Huggin put foots in big hard boot. Caesar know um--kick Caesar.

'Get outah way, black dog!' he say."

As he spoke the black went through something of a pantomime so perfectly that the lieutenant and Roberts burst out laughing. Murray's countenance remained unchanged, and he met the black's eyes gravely, and noted their fierce aspect as his brow wrinkled up and his thick, fleshy, protuberant lips were drawn away from the beautifully perfect white teeth.

"Hurt pore black n.i.g.g.ah, ma.s.sa," he said, rather piteously. "Kill some n.i.g.g.ah. Ma.s.sa Huggin sabage. Pore n.i.g.g.ah die dead. Hurt Caesar sometime. Wouldn't die."

"Well, go on, my lad," said the lieutenant; and the black continued his object-lesson.

"Ma.s.sa Allen say walk now. Look at um foots. Lilly shoe dah, big boot, hard boot, dah. One boot, 'noder boot. Ma.s.sa Huggin say Come along, sah. Look dah. Walk 'long dah, and n.i.g.g.ah foots walk over um. Lot o'

n.i.g.g.ah foots walk all over cover um up."

"Well," said the lieutenant, "now you have found out the trail so well, lead on and let's overtake them."

"Ah!" cried the black excitedly, for he had suddenly caught sight of something at which he bounded and caught it up to hold it before him and gaze at it with starting eyes.

"What does that mean, Mr Murray?" said the lieutenant, in a low tone, his attention having been thoroughly taken up by the intelligent black's behaviour.

"I don't quite know, sir. It's a soft piece of plantain stalk notched at the edge in a peculiar way. Look, sir."

For, paying no more heed to his companions for the moment, the black began to search about to the right of the trail, till he suddenly bounded on for a few paces and caught up a piece of green cane about six inches long and evidently scratched in a special manner.

"What's that, Caesar?" asked the middy.

The black, who was gazing at the piece of cane with fixed and staring eyes which seemed to glow, started at the lad's address, and pressed forward to look him questioningly in the eyes, hesitating.

Then he smiled and nodded.

"Ma.s.sa buccra. Good Bri'sh sailor. Come set pore n.i.g.g.ah free. Him no tell Ma.s.sa Huggin. Him no kill pore black darkie. Iss, Caesar tell um," he whispered now, with his lips so close that the lad felt the hot breath hiss into his ear. "Dat Obeah, ma.s.sa. Dat black man's Obeah.

Come along now Caesar know. Find fetish. Plenty many black boy speak soon."

"But you are going the wrong way," said Murray, clapping the black upon the shoulder to draw him back.

"No, sah. Caesar go right way. Way Obeah tell um."

"But Mr Allen: we want to follow Mr Allen."

"No can, sah. Not now. Come back. Not time yet."

"But you said that this Huggins would kill Mr Allen now that he has got him away."

"No," said the black, shaking his head. "No kill um now. Plenty black boy 'top um; no let um kill Ma.s.sa Allen. Come back now. Ma.s.sa wait."

"Oh, nonsense!" cried the lieutenant. "I am not going to be treated like this. Look here, you sir; you must go on and follow up the trail till we overtake this slaving scoundrel and make him prisoner. Do you hear?"

The black listened, and looked at the speaker gravely, but made no reply.

"Do you hear, sir?" cried the lieutenant again. "Speak to him, Mr Murray; he seems to listen to you better than he does to me."

"I'll try, sir," said Murray, "but I'm afraid he will not stir now."

"You tell him that he must, sir."

Murray repeated the lieutenant's words, with the result that the black listened to him with a face that for a few moments looked dull and obstinate, but which changed to a softer aspect as his bright eyes looked full in those of the frank young midshipman, before they closed slowly and their owner shook his head.

"Come, Mr Murray," said the chief officer; "you are not making the fellow understand."

"No, sir," said Murray gravely, "and I am afraid he is not to be forced." Then the lad's eyes flashed with annoyance, for Roberts glanced at him and said to his leader--

"Shall I try, sir?"

"Yes, do. These people want to be made to understand that when they receive orders they must obey them."

"Yes, sir," cried Roberts, making the most of himself, as he frowned at their black guide. "Murray is too easy with them. Here, you sir--"

Here Roberts's speech was cut short by the lieutenant, who had been watching the change in Murray's countenance, and he exclaimed--

"That will do, Mr Roberts, thank you. I think I can manage the matter better myself. Here, what's your name--Caesar?"

"Yes, sah; Caesar," said the black; and Murray looked at him sharply, for the man's manner seemed completely changed.

"Then listen to me. You ought to have learned with the power to speak English that a servant must obey his master."

The black drew himself up with his face growing hard from his setting his teeth firmly.

"Ma.s.sa Huggin make me servant and call me slabe; beat me--flog me--but I was prince once, sah, in Obeah land."

The lieutenant's face flushed and he was about to speak angrily, but there was something in the slave's manner that checked him, and the two middies looked at him wonderingly, as instead of giving some stern order he said in a quiet, matter-of-fact, enquiring way--