of Wellington boots
procured from a trader. Ebony preferred to cut his off short, just
below the knee, thus exposing to view those black boots supplied to
negroes by Nature, which have the advantage of never wearing out.
Hockins himself stuck to his navy shirt, but the others found striped
cotton shirts sufficient. A native straw hat on Mark's head and a silk
scarf round his waist, with a cavalry pistol in it, enhanced the
brigand-like aspect of his costume.

This pistol was their only fire-arm, the gun having been broken beyond
repair, but each carried a spear in one hand, a gauze butterfly-net in
the other, and a basket, in lieu of a specimen-box, on his shoulder.
Even the Secretary, entering into the spirit of the thing; carried a net
and pursued the butterflies with the ardour of a boy.

"Oh! massa," exclaimed Ebony, wiping the perspiration from his forehead
with a bunch of grass, "I _do_ lub science!"

"Indeed, why so?" asked Mark, sitting down on a bank opposite his
friend.

"Why, don't you see, massa, it's not comfortabil for a man what's got
any feelin's to go troo de land huntin' an' killin' cattle an' oder
brutes for _noting_. You can't eat more nor one hox--p'r'aps not dat.
So w'en you've kill 'im an' eaten so much as you can, dar's no more fun,
for what fun is dere in slaughterin' hoxes for _noting_? Den, if you
goes arter bees an' butterflies on'y for fun, w'y you git shamed ob
yourself. On'y a chile do dat. But science, dat put 'im all right!
Away you goes arter de bees and butterflies an' tings like mad--ober de
hills an' far away--troo de woods, across de ribbers--sometimes into
'em!--crashin' an' smashin' like de bull in de china-shop, wid de proud
feelin' bustin' your buzzum dat you're advancin' de noble cause ob
science--dat's what you call 'im, `noble?'--yes. Well, den you come
home done up, so pleasant like, an' sot down an' fix de critters up wid
pins an' gum an' sitch-like, and arter dat you show 'em to your larned
friends an' call 'em awrful hard names, (sometimes dey seem like _bad_
names!) an'--oh! I _do_ lub science! It's wot I once heard a captin ob
a ribber steamer in de States call a safety-balve wot lets off a deal o'
'uman energy. He was a-sottin on his own safety-balve at de time, so he
ought to have know'd suffin about it."

"I say, Ebony," asked Hockins, "where did you pick up so much larnin'
about science--eh?"

"I pick 'im in Texas--was 'sistant to a German nat'rali