"
"What of him?" was demanded in a clear, full voice and as quick as
lightning. "Let me know, at once."
"He has been killed by a blow from a club, and is thrown overboard."
A dead silence followed, and it lasted near a minute.
"Then it has fallen to my duty to decide what is to be done!" Marble
at length exclaimed. "Miles, are you at liberty?--dare you say what
you think?"
"I am held here, by two of the savages, whose prisoner I certainly
am. Still, Mr. Marble, they encourage me to speak, but I fear some
among them understand what we say."
There was another pause, during which the mate was doubtless
reflecting on the best course to pursue.
"Harkee, Miles," Marble continued, "we know each other, and can tell
what is meant without blabbing. How old are you, out there, on deck."
"Quite thirty years, Mr. Marble--and good stout years they are, too."
"Well provided for, with sulphur and the pills, or only with Indian
tools, such as our boys sometimes play with?"
"A little of the first--half-a-dozen, perhaps; with some of the last,
and a plenty of carvers."
An impatient push from the Dipper warned me to speak plainer, and
satisfied me that the fellow could comprehend what passed, so long as
we confined ourselves to a straight, forward discourse. This discovery
had the effect to put me still more on my guard.
Pages:
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331