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Updated: May 29, 2025
Women wept, and sick men turned away their faces. The dogs still howled, for nothing is so lacerating to the feelings of your Siwash as a steam-whistle blast. The memory of it troubles him long after the echo of it dies. Suddenly above the din Maudie's shrill voice: "I thought that was Nig!" Before the gangway had dropped with a bang her sharp eyes had picked out the Boy.
There's a village here, Colonel! Nig! Colonel, don't do it!" He dashed into the circle of firelight, and beheld Nig standing with a bandaged paw, placidly eating softened biscuit out of the family frying-pan. It was short work getting down to the village. They had one king salmon and two white fish from the first Indian they saw, who wanted hootch for them, and got only tabak.
She usually rose in the morning at the ring- ing of the bell for breakfast; if she were heard stirring before that time, Nig knew well there was an extra amount of scolding to be borne. No one now stood between herself and Frado, but Aunt Abby. And if SHE dared to interfere in the least, she was ordered back to her "own quarters."
"Who wuz de fus man?" was his next question; and the little nig professing ignorance, as usual, the old man replied, "Marse Adum."
Well, there's no one that carries news, but there is a little nig who used to take him a pack of lies every day," replied Jack, "and I know who it is. That was what I meant when I told those two darkeys awhile ago that I could put my hand on the talebearer in less than ten minutes. It's Julius." "Jack, you are certainly dreaming," exclaimed Marcy, growing more and more amazed.
Neither The Nig nor Piggie could be left to any chance ownership, but neither could Piggie, fresh from a two-day fight, be left to the mercies of an inexperienced rider. Three inches shorter than his master, Kruger Bobs weighed fifty pounds the more, and he rode with the resilient lightness of a feather bed.
But Aunt Abby looked within. She saw a soul to save, an immortality of happi- ness to secure. These evenings were eagerly anticipated by Nig; it was such a pleasant release from labor. Such perfect contrast in the melody and pray- ers of these good people to the harsh tones which fell on her ears during the day.
Only two days after he had determined upon the reception, he ordered Kruger Bobs to saddle the gray broncho and to attend him upon The Nig. Then, when the noon sun lay warm over the city, he mounted and, with Kruger Bobs behind him, he rode slowly down Adderley Street to the water front, and turned eastward to the home of the Dents.
"Me help Boss?" "No, thank you. I'd better let the mess alone." "Boss ride Nig?" Kruger Bobs suggested, in the hushed tone in which all their talk had been carried on. "It is better not to change." The silence broadened, broken only by the splashing of eight hoofs in the ever-deepening mire, and by the sighing squeak of wet strap rubbing on wet strap. Then Kruger Bobs spoke again.
Just one instant's pause he could remember. That was when he had put forth all his strength to check her pace until he could readjust a strap that was plainly galling her. And afterwards? Not even the thoroughbred Nig could have played her part in the fight with more steady gallantry. Stooping, he eased the bit and patted the firm gray neck where the mane swept upward for its arching fall.
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