and he started up awake, staring hard at his guide, who had
laid one hand over his lips while the other was offering him a
ready-opened cocoanut.

"No speak, massa."

"Why?"

"Huggins man over dah. See sailor officer--see slabe boy--see Caesar--
shoot, kill."

The man pointed over where Roberts lay half hidden by the undergrowth,
while beyond him the big black was seated munching away at some
half-ripe bananas, and ready to meet his eyes with a pleasant smile.

"It's morning, then!" whispered Murray, in surprise.

"Yes: to-morrow morning, sah," said the man, smiling; and it appeared to
Murray that he had made a very absurd remark, for it must have been
daylight for many hours, the sun being high.

"Whereabout do you think Mr Allen's cottage is?" he whispered now, as
his head seemed to clear.

"Over dah," was the confident declaration. "Huggins man all round about
come to fight."

"Fight? Who with?"

"Massa officer sailor men."

"Do you think they have got back to the cottage?"

The black nodded.

"Big very much fight. Sailor kill big lot Huggins man."

"How do you know that?" said Murray sharply, for it seemed to him now
that the last dreamy feeling of exhaustion had passed away.

"Caesar find free dead men. Him tread on two," was his ready reply,
"him" being the big black.

"But not white men!" said the midshipman, with his voice sinking to a
whisper that was almost inaudible.

"Huggins man, massa. Bad fellow. Caesar berry glad."

"Hah!" sighed Murray, and he crept to where Roberts lay apparently
sleeping comfortably now.

"Is it far to Mr Allen's cottage?" asked the lad, after a pause.

"Over dah, sah," replied the black, pointing.

"Then why not go on at once?"

The black showed his teeth as his face lit-up in a smile.

"Lots Huggins man all about. Wait shoot white man. Wait shoot massa
sailor officer. Shoot big slabe boy and Caesar. 'Top here get dark
again and Massa Murray Frank crawl up close to cottage 'long o' Caesar
show de way. Massa Murray Frank put hand to mouf so how, like Caesar
and say, Ahoy! No shoot, my boy! Friend!"

"Yes, I understand," said Murray eagerly.

"Dat's de way," said the black, laughing with satisfaction; and he
placed his hollowed hand to the side of his mouth and cried very softly
again: "Ahoy! No shoot, my boy! Friend! British sailor boy shoot more
than Huggins man. Shoot drefful bad. Kill friend in a dark. Kill
Murray Frank. Kill