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The little expedition traveled Indian file, Grôm leading the way, with A-ya at his heels, then Loob the Scout, and young Mô bringing up the rear. They had started about dawn, when the first of the morning rose was just beginning to pale the cave-mouth fires.
"Sister Hua says," she reported, "that he went out of doors, soon after daylight this morning." The result of the inquiries filled every one with surprise. "He can't have gone out!" they said. "This girl is stupid, and doesn't know how to speak." They consequently also directed Ts'ui Mo to go and ascertain the truth. In a little time, Ts'ui Mo returned.
"Now there's jes one mo' tale," said Diddie, "and that's about 'Annie's Visit, an I'm tired of makin' up books; Chris, can't you make up that?" "I dunno hit," said Chris, "but I kin tell yer 'bout'n de tar baby, el dat'll do." "Don't you think that'll do jes as well, Dumps?" asked Diddie. 'Certingly!" replied Dumps. So Diddie drew her pencil through "Annie's Visit," and wrote in its place,
What has come over you to-day?" "If he'd said a thing like that in Mare Street, Hackney, I'd have knocked his blinking 'ead orf," declared Mo Shendish. Doggie stopped and put his parcel-filled hands behind his back. "Have a try now, Mo." But Mo bade him fry his ugly face, and thus established harmony.
"I saw you walk kinder crooked, that was all, an'it came to me that you might be needin' an arm toward home. Young gentlemen will be gentlemen, that's the truth, suh, an' in my day I reckon I've steadied the legs of mo' young beaux than you could count on your ten fingers. Good Lord, when it comes to thinkin' of those Christmas Eve frolics that we had befo' the war!
"Oh yes he twigged, fast enough.... There's a p'int to consider, M'riar. This man's her son but it don't follow he knows whether she's dead or living, any better than you or me. Who's to say he's not lying? Besides, we should have had a letter to tell.... Who from?... H'm well from ..." But Mo found the completion of this sentence difficult. No wonder! How could he reply: "Her ladyship?"
"Hold dar! that's just enuff, honey no mo'! So long to ye and youse folks." He watched her striding away toward the main road, and then opened the box. It contained three flakes of placer or surface gold, weighing in all about a quarter of an ounce. They could easily have slipped into the interstices of the broken pan and not have been observed by him.
"I'm working my ass off." "I loved your story, by the way," she said. "I could see that balding bus boy carefully loading his cart. But I wanted more." "Yeah," Joe said. "I can't tell you how many times I've thought of that guy. Did I tell you that I started a novel?" "No," Mo said. "You're right about the stories. They aren't enough. It's a new experience for me a novel.
If he trade with it I thing he don't stoff bird no mo', and I thing he lose it bis-ide ha, ha, ha! and if he keep it all time lock in doze bank I thing, he jiz well not have it." She laughed again. But he quite ignored her and resumed, as if out of a revery, "Yass, at de las' I mek dat out." And the wife interrupted him in a tone that was like the content of a singing hen.
He gave us some, which was very acceptable, as we got none at the two villages south of this. Kanyindula came himself in the evening, an active, stern-looking man, but we got on very well with him. They never heard of aërolites, but know hail. I notice here that the tree Mfu, or Mö, having sweet-scented leaves, yields an edible plum in clusters.
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