In less than half an hour Sam and I were
quite at home in the village, telling him of our
shipwreck, and listening to our entertainer's own
story over three stiff glasses of brandy-and-water,
to which both our flasks contributed.

Our host, by name M. Hyacinthe Isidore Gallini,
was, it appeared, a French dancing-master,
who had been wrecked on the coast twenty years
ago, about 1830; my story dates 1850.
Gradually he had learnt their lingo, and ingratiated
himself into their favour.

"I taught zem," he said, "gentlemen, to
Balance and Rigadoon, Allemande, Moulinet. I
taught zem Le Moulinet, Le Bouquet, La Rose,
La Fantasie Liegeoise,—all ze fashionable
cotillons that would civilise and amuse zem. I taught
zem all ze words of my own language that
related to my favourite art. I taught zem ze
quadrille to perfection. They loved and honoured
me for this; zey called me ze great Topinambow,
which is their word for ze priest. They made
me zeir king, and gave me zeir great mystery,
ze petrified chief, to guard. I rule zem. I teach
zem ze dances, which have become part of zeir
religion, and the words and the directions in ze
French and English. They look upon me as
dropped from Heaven to teach zem cotillons.
If I had not dance they would have kill me
long ago. Ma foi, how I have taught zem to
poussette; ma foi, how zey moulinet! Come,
mes enfants, I will now show you ze petrified
chief that this nigger people worship."

"Belay there! A petrified nigger" whispered
Sam to me, as we followed Gallini; "wouldn't
that please them at home, messmate?"

"Quiet, Sam," said I, observing something
queer about his face as he spoke to me; and on
we went, following Gallini to the place.

We soon came to the spot; it was a cave in
a sandstone rock, so deep and dark that we had
to enter it with lighted torches. The walls were
covered with fantastic figures of men fighting,
uncouth monsters, winged dragons, and all
those sort of things you may see on signboards
and state coaches.

At the extreme end of the cave lay the
petrified chief, his face painted with vermilion,
and his hair as like oakum as could be. There
was a boomerang in his right hand, and a
carved wooden club in his left; a pair of sailor's
trousers was tied in a knot round his neck, and
the rest of his body was wrapped in 'possum
skins.

"It's as like our carpenter as one marlingspike's
like another," said Sam to me, with a
covetous look about his eyes.

Whether we did not admire the chief enough, I
don't know, but from that time Gallini seemed
always jealous of us, and tried to set the niggers
against us while we did on the other hand all
we could to show them that we were worth as
much as the old dancing-master.

Sam one day put out the glory of his cotillons
for ever, by suddenly shouting out " Belay
there!" and dashing into a hornpipe, such a
one as even Wapping would have rejoiced at—a
regular toe and heel, pulling and hauling
hornpipe, with shivering trousers, hand in the side,
shout, and everything complete.

The niggers were in raptures, and insisted on
sacrificing a goat at the door of our tent in
honour of Sam; upon which he rushed out,
carried it off, and cooked it for his own dinner.

Gallini was going down as fast as mercury
in rainy weather. We had all the songs and
dancing now to ourselves, and we could not move
without processions and sacrifices, which always
ended well for Sam and me.

One day Sam and I cleaned up our revolvers
and got our powder and bullets, and set to shooting
at a calabash—just to frighten the niggers,
and show them what fire-arms were. They leaped
about like mad people when we hit the mark, as
we took care to do every time, for I was behind
the tree where the calabash hung, and if Sam
missed I ran out and poked a hole in it before
they could come up. They wanted to make us
both kings, but Sam and I wouldn't have
anything to do with it. You see, we had a different
game on hand.

The night of the shooting, Gallini came and
wanted to buy our pistols, but we wouldn't sell
them; then he wanted to buy all our clothes to
cut up into pantaloons and swallow-tailed coats;
when we refused that too, he left in a rage,
swearing at us in French.

Directly he left, Sam came up to me as if he
wanted to whisper, and said, "Harry, that
Frenchman don't mean us any good, and the
sooner we cut it the better. But I tell you I'm
not a going away without that petrified nigger.
He'd make our fortune in the old country.
Harry, are you game, for if so, the sooner we set
to work the better."

"Never put off a good thing, Sam," said I;
"here's my hand."

As soon as it was dark, off we went to the
cave. Taking a horse to the entrance, we
brought out the petrified nigger and tied him
firm on it. Then we collected some grub in a
bag, and struck off on the road leading to what
we had been told was the nearest settlement on
the Wullah-Nullah river. We calculated, that
if we could make a thirty miles' march ahead,
we should be pretty safe; we had tied up our
hut so as to look as if we were asleep and did
not want to be disturbed.

Off we started across a wild prairie half sandholes
and half scrub. By the time the moon
rose, we got safe under covert in a forest of
gumtrees, through which we had ascertained our track
lay.

There was just room for the horse along the
native road between the trees, and there was no
sound except now and then the scream of some
bird far over our heads that our talking awoke,
or the fall of some huge branches that now and
then dropped with the noise of thunder, and
seemed to shake all the forest:

"My eyes, Harry," said Sam, "if I think we
shall ever get out again with our mummy! I
only wish we'd got him passed clean through
the Customs."

"They'll raise our hair if they catch us," said