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Sure enough there is the direction they have taken." "Well! ef I wan't bothered wi' these hyar animals, I ked follow them tracks easy enough. We'd soon kum upon the wheel agin, I reck'n: they ain't a-goin' to travel fur, wi' a hump like thet on thar shoulders." "No; it's not likely." "Wal, then, capt'n, s'pose we leave our critters hyar, an' take arter 'em afut?
Ngati, who came stalking up through the bush, spear in hand, had a narrow escape, for two guns were presented at him, and but for the energetic action of Don and Jem in striking them up, he must have been hit. "Oh, this is a friend, is it?" said Mike Bannock, as he gave a tug at his rough beard, and turned from one to the other. "Arn't come arter me, then?" "No, not likely," said Jem.
"Don't you bother, miss," said the American faintly, "I guess I ain't so much hurt arter all!" but he couldn't help groaning as he spoke, whereupon Mr Meldrum laid him down gently and sent the steward for some brandy, which revived him somewhat.
By the time we get to the llyn the colours o' the vapours, what they calls the Knockers' flags, will come out ezackly as they did that mornin' when you and me first went arter Winnie.
Well, I answer myself, perhaps it is, for all human institutions are so, but I guess it's e'enabout the best arter all. It wouldn't do here now, Sam, nor perhaps for a century to come, but it will come sooner or later with some variations. 'So it is, said he, 'with constitutions; our'n will gradually approximate to their'n, and their'n to our'n.
Think o' what's tearin' my auld heart to tatters me, so bleared an' ugly an' lonely. God knaws God's self couldn't bring no balm to me none, till I huddle under the airth arter un; but you your wound won't show by time the snaw comes again." "You forget when you loved a man first if you says such a thing as that."
"Well, I'd been doin' a little business there among the folks, and had jist sot off for the river, mounted on Old Clay, arter takin' a glass of Ezra's most particular handsum Jamaiky, and was trottin' off pretty slick, when who should I run agin but Tim Bradley. He is a dreadful ugly, cross-grained critter, as you e'enamost ever seed, when he is about half-shaved.
"George Birt," promptly replied the little boy. "What air ye doin' down thar? I thought it war Satan a-callin' of me. I never seen nobody." "I kem down hyar on vines arter a tur-r-key I shot. The vines bruk, an' I hev got no way ter git up agin. I want ye ter go ter yer mother's house, an' tell yer brother Pete ter bring a rope hyar fur me ter climb up by."
"I beg your pardon," I put in, rather mystified. "I'm afraid I don't know very much about the Navy. What's a chief buffer?" "Chief Bos'un's Mate, wot looks arter the upper deck, sir. Name o' Scroggins. Well, sir, Number One sez to 'im, 'Scroggins, 'e sez. 'You knows them buoys we was usin' yesterday? 'Yessir, I 'ears the chief buffer say.
D'ye see them crows flyin' round thet big oak with the bleached top? Hear them cawin'? You might think they was chasin' a hawk, or king-birds were arter 'em, but thet fuss they're makin' is because they see Injuns." "Well?" asked Joe, impatiently. "It'll be moonlight a while arter midnight. We'll lay low an' wait, an' then "
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