ng here,
I tell you, and the black dogs know it. Be off."

"You hideous, red-eyed brute!" said the boy to himself, as he took his
load and turned to go. "How I should like to--"

He did not mentally say what, for he was brought up short by the word
"Stop!" roared in a bullying tone.

"Here, you," cried the man to Bostock, "light a lanthorn; it's dark on
deck. Follow him, and hold it till he's done. And look here, bring it
away again, or they'll be setting the ship afire. They can see in the
dark like cats. They want no light."

Bostock fetched a lanthorn, lit it in a surly way, and then went first,
closely followed by Carey, who just caught sight of their captor pouring
himself out a tumbler of rum from a half-emptied bottle; but there was
no water near.

"Bob," panted the boy, as they reached the deck, "are we going to put up
with this?"

"Dunno yet, my lad," growled the old sailor. "Not for long, I hope.
Seems to me like me knocking that there red and white savage's head off,
and then blowing up the ship."

"But why doesn't the doctor do something?"

"Aren't made up his mind yet what to do, my lad, seemingly. He's
hatching. That's what I think he's a-doing of. I s'pose we'd better
wait."

"I can't wait," whispered Carey, "I feel in such a rage, I must do
something."

"Take the prog to them black beasts then, sir, now. They aren't much
better than annymiles."

"Look sharp, you two, and come back to the cabin," came in a fierce,
hoarse voice from the cabin stairs, proving that they were watched.

"Come on, and get the dirty job done, Master Carey," whispered Bostock.
"I shall 'ave to kill somebody over this before I've done."

Carey said nothing, but walked forward with his load, hearing the
savages, who were chattering loudly, suddenly cease as if listening, and
the next moment Black Jack came bounding to their side, looking eagerly
from one to the other.

"Why can't you walk?" growled Bostock. "Can't you get over the deck,
and not come hopping like a hingy-rubber ball, or one of your
kangaroos?"

"Kangaroo? Wallaby?" said the black. "Over there. Lots."

"Go and join 'em then, you sable son of a three-legged pitch-pot."

"Got meat?"

"Yes," said Carey, and he served out the big lumps cut ready, while
Bostock held the light, the blacks taking it steadily enough till all
were served, and Carey stood looking at them.

Then a murmur arose, Black Jack shouting the one word "'bacco,"