um. Like Jackum
lots. Give Jackum ticky-ticky."

"You don't understand," cried Carey. "Big Dan will kill us all if we
stop."

"Hey? Big Dan brokum."

"Going to shoot. Powder--gun."

"Ho!" exclaimed the black, who seemed now to have some idea of there
being danger. "Car-ee no 'top. Come 'long shore. Eat snake."

"No," said Carey. "You go; I must stop with the doctor."

"Doctor not go," said the black, thoughtfully. "Hole in leggum. Jackum
won't go. 'Top 'long o' Car-ee."

"Better give it up as a bad job, sir," said Bostock, from the light.
"He means he won't go away and leave you. They're rum chaps, these
black fellows, when they take to a man."

"Because they won't leave me, Bob?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then some white fellows are as queer, don't you think so?"

Bostock chuckled, but made no reply.

"Bob," said Carey, suddenly, "it is quite plain, isn't it, that we can't
move the doctor?"

"Well, sir, I s'pose so."

"Then it is impossible for me to leave him. If there is an explosion I
hope and pray that we two may escape."

"What about me, then, sir?"

"You will go to the boat directly with Jackum. I shall make him go."

"Right, sir, and wait in the boat till the ship blows up. And some day
if I get away from here and reach Brisbane and your father comes to me
and says, `Where's my boy?' I ups and says, `He wouldn't leave the
doctor, sir, who was lying bad, having been shot; so me and a black
fellow takes to the boat and rows half a mile away so's to be out o'
reach o' the falling bits when the _Soosan_ blew up as she did; and a
werry beautiful sight it was.' Then he says to me, he says--Yah! I'm
blessed if I know what he'd say; all I knows is that I aren't going to
meet him; not me, my lad; I'd sooner have a blow up from the _Soosan_
than one from him."

"Bob," said Carey, softly, "I wish I could reach up and shake hands with
you."

"Well, so you can, dear boy," said the old sailor, huskily. "Thankye,
my lad. Go and sneak away at a time like this? I'm made of a different
bit o' stuff to that. I say, lookye here, Master Carey; I bleeve it's
all flam and bunkum. He aren't got no magazine to fire, or else he
aren't got no pluck to do it. There won't be no blow up, and we're
a-going to face it with a bit o' British waller, eh?"

"Yes, Bob, we must face it," replied Carey.

"That's right, sir; then we'll do it comf'table and like men. Lookye
here, my lad, you must be 'bout sta