Dey jes nacherly sprouts up outen de groun', ef dey knows I wants 'em."
"How do you manage it in America?" McDonald hammered away diligently at his job of pounding out the statistics.
Zack tendered him the goods, "Lordee, mister, it's jes dat easy, tain't no pleasure to brag about it. Niggers follers each other same as sheep; dey gits de travel itch an' loves to move. Ef a man know his business, he jes finds de ole bellwether and pokes a notion in his head dat ramblin' time is come. I picks me out a place whar de niggers ain't made enough to pay for rent an' vittles; den I dresses up real fine, gives 'em a few cigars and brags and brags on de Cunnel's lan' growin' a bale to de acre, jes by stickin' seed in de groun'. Nigger needn't do nothin' 'cept take a seat an' wait. Den I specify dem reg'lar rations what Cunnel issues on Saddy night. Niggers mought not be studyin' dat bale to de acre, but reg'lar rations ev'y Saddy night—dat's what fetches 'em."
McDonald weighed these statements from a British point of view, and remarked, "That's what we need in the Shilluk country—a man who can induce those blacks to work."
Zack smiled benignantly, as if the British officer were a mere child. "Shucks, mister, is dat all? You jes make yo' min' easy. Ole Reliable
