ok?"

"Listen, then. Find doctor."

"Find doctor. Where doctor?"

"Yes," said Carey.

Jackum turned to his companion and asked him, but it was evident that
the man knew nothing, and Jackum stood for a moment or two thinking.

"Doc-tor," he said at last, making a significant gesture downward.
"Sleep um," and he shut his eyes and laid his face upon his hand.

"No," said Carey.

"Jackum go see."

He started to run aft, and Carey and the other two followed, the black
fellows, who were busy picking and cleaning the game they had brought
back, paying no heed.

As they reached the cabin entry Carey anxiously caught Jackum's arm.

"Mind," he whispered, pointing downward. "Big Dan. Shoot, shoot!"

The black nodded, and dropped upon his face, to crawl up and cautiously
thrust his head inside and listen, drawing it back again directly,
shutting his eyes, puffing out his face and uttering a low deep snore.

The next moment he was in again, crawling like a huge black slug head
first down the stairs, till they saw only the soles of his feet, and
then they disappeared, the other looking on grinning as he squatted
down.

"It's not snoring, Bob," whispered Carey. "There is something terrible
below. I think the doctor is dead, after wounding Mallam badly."

"Oh, don't say that, my lad; but hullo! what's wrong with your chesty?
You keep putting your hand there."

"I don't think it's much," said the boy. "Never mind now. It hurts
badly now and then. Mallam shot at me."

_Bang_!

There was a sharp report, a rush, and quite in a little cloud of smoke
Jackum bounded out on the deck, whipped his club out from where it was
stuck in his girdle behind, and made several vicious blows at nothing in
the direction of the cabin stairs, his teeth bared, and a savage look of
rage in his eyes.

Then, clapping his left hand to his ear, which was bleeding, he
whispered:

"Big Dan shoot."

He turned to his fellow, who examined the wounded ear, the lobe of which
was split. Then the injury was pinched together for a few moments, a
little grass bag was produced from somewhere, and a pinch of clay-dust
applied to the wound.

This done, Jackum grinned again.

"Big Dan there," he whispered.

"But the doctor?" whispered Carey, excitedly.

"Jackum find," was the confident reply, and with a quick nod he bounded
to one of the open saloon skylights, lay down, and edged himself through
the slit, let his body go down, hung by h