d see, and then in an instant it had disappeared again, and
he clapped his foot with quite a smack up against his leg again, and
showed his teeth as he went on.

"White Mary 'gin to sing. Wee-eak!" he cried, with a perfect imitation
of the cry the poor girl had uttered. "Pipum crow 'gin to sing morrow
mornum."

He let his spear fall into the hollow of his arm, and placing both hands
to his mouth, produced a peculiarly deep, sweet-toned whistle, which
sounded as if somebody were incorrectly running up the notes of a chord.

"Why, I heard some one whistling like that this morning early," cried
Tim.

"Pipum crow," said the black again, and he repeated the notes, but
changed directly with another imitation, that of a peculiarly harsh
braying laugh, which sounded weird and strange in the still night air.

"Most accomplished being!" said Uncle Munday, sarcastically.

"Laughum Jackamarass," said the black; and he uttered the absurd cry
again.

"Why, I heard that this morning!" cried Rifle. "It was you that made
the row?"

"Laughum Jackamarass," said the black importantly. "Sung in um bush.
You gib Shanter tickpence. You gib damper?"

"What does he mean?" said Uncle Jack. "Hang him, he gave us a damper."

"Hey? Damper?" cried the black, and he smacked his lips and began to
rub the lower part of his chest in a satisfied way.

"He wants a piece of bread," said the captain.--"Here, aunt, cut him a
lump and let's get rid of him. There is no cause for alarm. I suppose
he followed us to beg, but I don't want any of his tribe."

"Oh, my dear Edward, no," cried Aunt Georgie. "I don't want to see any
more of the dreadful black creatures.--Here, chimney-sweep, come here."

As she spoke, she opened the lid of a basket, and drew from its sheath a
broad-bladed kitchen knife hung to a thin leather belt, which bore a
clasped bag on the other side.

"Hi crikey!" shouted the black in alarm, his _repertoire_ of English
words being apparently stored with choice selections taught him by the
settlers. "Big white Mary going killancookaneatum."

"What does the creature mean?" said Aunt Georgie, who had not caught the
black's last compound word.

"No, no," said Norman, laughing. "She's going to cut you some damper,
Shanter."

"Ho! mind a knife--mind a knife," said the black; and he approached
warily.

"He thought you were going to kill and cook him, aunt," said the boy,
who was in high glee at the lady's disgust.