y'd treat us better than they do.
Makes me wish I was a nigger for a bit, so long as I could wash white
when I got away."

"Master Nic," said Pete one night when they were alone in their bunks,
"I aren't going to share that bit o' 'possum."

"What bit of 'possum?" asked Nic, as he lay listening to the low murmur
arising from where Humpy Dee was talking to his fellow-prisoners, who
were all chewing some tobacco-leaf which the former had managed to
secrete.

"Why, you know; that bit old Zamson give me, wrapped up in one o' them
big leaves."

"Oh yes; I had forgotten. Eat it, then; I don't mind."

"Likely, aren't it?" grumbled Pete. "Good as it smells, for them black
fellows do know how to cook a thing brown and make it smell nice. Can't
you zee what I mean?"

"No."

"Want it for the dogs. I'm going to slip off after that boat as soon as
it's a bit later."

"Impossible, Pete. Don't try; you'll be shot at. There is sure to be
one of the blacks outside the door with a musket."

"Let him stop there, then. I aren't going by the door."

"How, then?"

"Climb up here to where I've got a couple o' them split wooden tiles--
shingles, as they call 'em--loose."

"But you can't climb up there."

"Can't I? Oh yes, my lad. There's them knot-holes, and I've got some
pegs cut as fits into 'em, ready to stand on. I can get up easy
enough."

"But the dogs?"

"Well, I smuggled a knife and sharpened it up, and it's tied to my leg
in a sheath I made out of a bit o' bamboo cane."

"But it would be madness to fight the poor brutes, and the noise would
bring out Saunders with a gun."

"Just what I thought, my lad," said Pete, laughing softly; "so I went on
the other tack this month past."

"I don't understand you, Pete."

"I'll tell you, then, my lad," said Pete softly. "I made up my mind to
get you back to the old country, and the on'y way to do it seems to be
to make friends."

"Make friends?"

"That's it. Way that big dog, Gripper, took to you zet me thinking. If
he was zet at you he'd lay hold, 'cause he's been taught to obey orders.
He wouldn't want to, no more than a soldier might want to shoot a man;
but if it was orders he'd do it. Well, I've thought a deal about them
dogs, and dogs is dogs--eh, Master Nic?"

"Of course," said the young man, smiling to himself.

"And dogs has got zweet tooths, Master Nic; on'y the sugar they likes is
a bit o' salt."

"You mean you wanted that piece of roast