not a Shilluk eye would have strayed towards Said if it hadn't been for the tantalization of those fish. Naturally a Dongalawi paid no attention to the Shilluks, except to keep his fish well guarded, and to watch the dogs—starven, incredibly thin and creeping near as they dared. With a flourish Zack put on his skillet, and had the grease sizzling. But when he glanced up for applause his prospective customers were drifting away—every one of them, except the dogs.
"What make 'em run off? Sumpin' skeered dem niggers." Then he saw Lyttleton, McDonald and Colonel Spottiswoode strolling towards him from the quarters. None of the white men had a thing to do, and the Colonel carried a long flat board under his arm. "Huh! Dat's it," Zack snorted. "White folks comin'. Mister Bim done pestered dem niggers so regular 'bout goin' to work, dat dey nacherly gits up an' gits." McDonald hurried on with his head down—"Like a goat what's fixin' to butt somebody"—which illustrated Mr. Bim's present attitude of mind and body.
"Well, old man," he questioned, "get any fish?"
"Yas suh, plenty. I tole you Side could ketch 'em."
"What are you going to charge for a lunch?"
Zack lifted the sputtering skillet and considered: "Dunno, suh. I reckin' I'll make it jes
