It really
seemed to justify the severe judgment passed on us by the sage of
Chelsea, that we were "sixteen millions, mostly fools." No air was
ever at the same time so silly and so successful as "Jim Crow." But
there was life in it, and it certainly prolonged that of Sambo, for
as the four savages crouched behind the hedge listening to the
"Turn about and wheel about, and do just so,
And ebery time I turn about I jump Jim Crow,"
they forgot their murderous errand.
At last there was an echo of the closing words which seemed to come
from a large gum tree beyond the tents, against which a ladder had
been reared to the forks, used for the purpose of a look-out by
Captain Leebrace.
Sambo paused, looked up to the gum tree, and said, "By golly, who's
dere?" The echo was repeated, and then he wheeled about in real
earnest, transfixed with horror, unable to move a limb. The blacks
were close to him now, but even their colour could not restore his
courage. They were cannibals, and were preparing to kill and eat
him. But first they examined their game critically, poking their
fingers about him, pinching him in various parts of the body,
stroking his broad nose and ample lips with evident admiration, and
trying to pull out the curls on his woolly head.
Sambo was usually proud of his personal appearance, but just now fear
prevented him from enjoying the applause of the strangers.
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