give it up because of me getting that arrow in my arm. But look
here, I ain't a grudger, but if I do get a chance at the chap as shot at
me--well, I'm sorry for him, that's all."

"What would you do to him, Ned?" said Jack, smiling.

"What would I do to him, sir? What wouldn't I do to him, sir!"

"You don't mean to say you'd kill him?"

"Kill him, sir?" cried Ned, in a tone full of disgust; "now do I look
the sort of chap to go killing any one?"

"Well, no, Ned, you do not."

"Of course not, sir. Murder ain't in my way. I ain't a madman. Of
course if one's in a sort o' battle, and there's shooting and some of
the enemy's killed, that's another thing. I don't call that murder;
that's killing, no murder. But in a case like this: oh no, I wouldn't
kill him, I'd civilise him."

"What, and forgive him?" said Jack, who felt amused.

"Not till I'd done with him."

"And what would you do?"

"Do, sir! Why, what I say, sir; I'd civilise him, and show him
something different to hitting a man behind his back. There'd be no
call for him to strip, he'd be all ready; but I'd just have off my
jacket and weskit, and some of the lads to see fair, and I'd show him
the way Englishmen fight. I'd give him such a civilising as should make
him respect the British nation to the end of his days. That's what I'd
do with him. Fists!"

"Very well, Ned, look sharp and get strong so as to do it."

"Strong, sir? Why, I could do it now if you'd let me get up instead of
making me bask about like a pig in a sty. I just feel, sir, as we used
to say at school, as if I could let him have it, though it would hardly
be fair. He'd have the greatest advantage."

"Yes, I should say he would," said Jack, laughing.

"Ah, you mean about muscle, sir. I don't. I mean that if he managed to
get home with his fists in my face--not as I think he would--he'd make
me look disgraceful, and not fit to appear before the guvnor for a
fortnight. And all the time I might pound away for an hour and make no
difference in him. Whoever heard of a nigger with a black eye?"

"Well, no, Ned, I never did," said Jack, laughing. "Nature ain't been
fair over that, sir. Black chaps' eyes ought to go white after a fight;
but I suppose it's because they don't fight fair. Hitting a man in the
back, and with a poisoned arrow too! It makes me feel wild; it's so
cowardly. But there, they don't know any better. I say though, Mr
Jack, I am glad we're going