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Updated: May 12, 2025
After a brief consultation, Pake and another set off in advance with their share of the goods, leaving the third boy to guide the feebler steps of the two moon-i-yas. Garth wondered if they would ever see Pake and the boxes again.
Young Pake sat at the right hand of the principal man a personage in frayed overalls and cotton shirt, with a scarlet handkerchief about his temples and called attention to the points of the two moon-i-yas like their showman. After all the elders had partaken of tea, somebody recollected to thrust the battered pot at Garth and Natalie, with two more than doubtful tin cups.
She proved to be using her eyes and ears to good advantage on the way. "The tall boy," she said, "the one that looks like an actor; he's the humourist of the party. He keeps them in fits of laughter by giving moon-i-yas imitations. He mimics us to our very faces. Their idea of us is too funny! The good-looking little one is his inseparable friend; they hold hands when they're not working.
It was received with stolid, uncomprehending stares. Among themselves they gossiped freely enough, and from the frequent recurrence of the word moon-i-yas, Garth knew that he and Natalie were the subject of it all. The discomforting thought did not fail to suggest itself that they might be hatching a plot in the very presence of their intended victims.
To Garth it seemed as if they took an interminable time to prepare and eat their simple meal; and afterward there could no longer be any doubt, from the way they loafed about, that they were soldiering, as a result of Hooliam's low-voiced encouragement. They grinned with childish impudence at the scowling moon-i-yas.
"You tell him, then, that I will take command of this boat, and run her myself," said Garth. At the last moment the orders were hastily given. The mast was reluctantly taken down, and hung over the side; the cargo was shifted back, and the sweeps run out. The breeds rowed half-heartedly, with furtive scowls for the moon-i-yas who made them work.
Garth, blushing to the roots of his hair, explained that they preferred to sleep outside. The breeds let them go, with a shrug for the queer ways of the moon-i-yas. Garth pitched the little tent he had for Natalie under the pine trees at a short distance, and spread her bed on balsam boughs inside, with tender hands. Natalie had suddenly half collapsed like a sleepy child.
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