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Updated: May 28, 2025
"Ching, you're a cruel wretch," I cried, as Mr Brooke looked at the man in utter disgust. "No; Ching velly glad see pilate bu'n up and dlown. Dleadful bad man, bu'n ship junk, chop off head. Kill hundleds poo' good nicee people. Pilate velly hollid man. Don't want pilate at all."
"Yes," I said. "Bime by, allee same dlown, velly quick, you no bail now. Sabbe?" No, they did not "sabbe," or at least they shook their heads to that effect, though they chattered most comprehendingly to one another in their own lingo. I pulled up three or four of the bottom boards, got a couple of buckets from a locker, and by unmistakable sign-language invited them to fall to.
"Yes," I said. "Bime by, allee same dlown, velly quick, you no bail now. Sabbe?" No, they did not "sabbe," or at least they shook their heads to that effect, though they chattered most comprehendingly to one another in their own lingo. I pulled up three or four of the bottom boards, got a couple of buckets from a locker, and by unmistakable sign-language invited them to fall to.
What wrecked her?" demanded Moran. The deserting Chinamen huddled around Charlie, drawing close, as if finding comfort in the feel of each other's elbows. "No can tell," answered Charlie. "Him shake, then lif' up all the same as we. Bime-by too much lif' up; him smash all to Four-piecee Chinamen dlown." "Drown! Did any of them drown?" exclaimed Moran.
Allee 'light velly soon, and make big burn." "What! and roast the wretches on board to death?" "Some," said Ching, with a pleasant smile. "Makee squeak, and cly `Oh! oh! and burn all 'way like fi'wo'k. Look velly nice when it dalk." "How horrid!" I cried. "Not all bu'n up," said Ching; "lot jump ove'board and be dlown."
"Four-piecee dlown," reiterated Charlie calmly. "One, thlee, five, nine, come asho'. Him other no come." "Where are the ones that came ashore?" asked Wilbur. Charlie waved a hand back into the night. "Him make um camp topside ole house." "That old whaling-camp," prompted Moran. Then to Wilbur: "You remember about a hundred yards north the creek?"
Well, my good fellow, that wouldn't be English. We kill men in fair fight, or take them prisoners. We couldn't go and burn the wretches up like that." Ching shook his head. "All velly funnee," he said. "Shoot big gun and make big hole in junk; knockee all man into bit; makee big junk sink and allee men dlown." "Yes," said Mr Brooke, wrinkling up his forehead.
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