Part 35 (2/2)

We now came to a halt, and Norris set me on the ground, and the four of us got our heads together to whisper.

”It strikes me,” I said, ”that we're a little too precipitate. Here's this black fellow, likely snoozing over yonder in one of those shacks.

There's no one here to talk with him and explain our presence; even Hawkins, here, hasn't in two years, learned the language he speaks. Now, if he sees us, who's to say he won't tell Duran about us when he returns. And we're not yet ready to try conclusions with that--that--”

”Polecat, skunk,” prompted severally, Ray and Norris, in the same breath.

”So,” I continued, ”we'd best get back in the brush; and depend on Hawkins to steer the black boy out of the way in the morning, till we have seen what we want to see. And then we'll get back to our own camp, till the time's ripe for our next move.”

”And then clubs will be trumps,” said Grant Norris.

”Hear--hear!” said Ray.

We were led by Hawkins to a sheltered place, and he soon had brought a pair of mosquito-bars from the shacks. Protected thus, it was not many minutes till I had dropped off. I opened my eyes once during that night, and that was to hear the crowing of roosters nearby. They were no doubt the same birds whose music I had heard faintly the previous night and confused with the mosquitoes. There were not less than three c.o.c.ks out there vieing with one another, and each sang out perhaps a dozen times.

Ray, who lay beside me, got on his elbow. He listened silently for some time; then he said, ”Say--don't it listen good to hear something talk good old United States again?”

It was soon after daybreak that Hawkins appeared, to say he had managed by their sign language, to talk the black boy into going far up the vale for a jag of dry wood. And then he told us where to find the gold workings, and other matters of interest. ”When we're comin' back, I'll be singin', 'She died of the fever,' so'll you can 'ide out,” said Hawkins.

”Well now, Hawkins,” said Norris. ”We'll soon have you out of this and back in civilization again, if you play square with us, and don't give that skunk any hint that we're here, and--”

”You don't need for to 'ave no fear, 'ee'll never know,” declared Hawkins. ”Hi'm slick, Hi am. Hi can 'old my gab--Hi'm old at that.”

And away he went with his head and shoulders still cutting capers that rendered Ray dumb with fascination. And then finally, Ray broke out.

”There goes our gold mine,” he said. ”We mustn't lose him! When we get back in the States we'll join a side show.--'Ladies and gentlemen: it is my privilege to present to your astonished eyes the one and only living rubber-man. Observe the wonderful effect, as the breath and pulse of life courses through him. The only self-inflating--why, the only dread we have is that he may chance on some unhappy occasion to sit down on a bent pin or a sharp tack. In our travels we found him in the tropical jungles, where he had been lost, and where he had subsisted for two years on the juice of the rubber tree. In truth, ladies and gentlemen, even now, the only sustenance he is able to take is the milk of the rubber plant, and--oh, I say now, ladies and gentlemen, who have kindness and charity in your hearts, if you have any old, worn out overshoes, garden hose, and--'”

Grant Norris had picked up a length of dead limb and was now manipulating it menacingly, with an eye on Ray. And then there came through the brush the voice of Hawkins, singing. It was a s.n.a.t.c.h of ”Twickenham Ferry,” ending with a--

”Oh! yo ho. Oh! yo ho. Oh! yo ho. Oh!”

”That means they're on their way for the load of wood,” said Norris.

We waited some minutes, to insure the black boy getting out of view with Hawkins; and then we went forward, and out across the semi-clearing.

There were four palm-thatched structures over there, with frames of pine saplings and bamboo. Beside the fourth, was the chicken yard of bamboo held together with tough gra.s.ses. In this corral were some hundreds of fowl, scratching and clucking much in the fas.h.i.+on of chickens back home.

”Chick, chick, chick, chick!” called Ray.

The fowl flocked toward the fence.

”I told you!” broke out Ray. ”They sure understand United States.”

”Oh, come on,” pressed Grant Norris. ”Let's get up to the diggings.”

”Poor old Norris,” murmured Ray, as if talking to himself, while he followed. ”He'll be so disappointed when he finds out there's no gold mine.”

Ray took shelter behind me as Norris, ahead, cast about for some kind of missile. We pa.s.sed by a vegetable garden as we went; neat rows, carefully weeded.

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