Commodore Junk — page 69: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

62 COMMODORE JUNK. “How long will they keep us in this here place?” said Bart, after another interval, and he looked from the beautiful shore at the bottom of the slope on which they worked to the cluster of stone and wood-built buildings, which formed the prison and the station farm, with factory and mill, all worked by convict labour, while those in the neighbourhood were managed by blacks. Abel did not answer, only scowled fiercely; and Bart sighed, and repeated his question. “Till we die!” said Abel, savagely ; “‘same as we've seen other fellows die—of fever, and hard work, and the lash. Curse the captain! Curse ¥ Bart clapped one hand over his companion’s lips, and he held the other behind his head, dropping his hoe to leave full liberty to act. “T never quarrels with you, Abel, lad,” he said, shortly ; “but if you says words again that poor gell, I’m going to fight —and that won't do. Is it easy?” Abel seemed disposed to struggle; but he gave in, nodded his head, and Bart loosed him and picked up his hoe, just as the overseer, who had come softly up behind, brought down the whip he carried with stinging violence across the shoulders of first one and then the other. The young men sprang round savagely; but there was a sentry close behind, musket-armed and with bayonet fixed, and they knew that fifty soldiers were within call, and that if they struck their taskmaster down and made for the jungle they would be hunted out with dogs, be shot down like wild beasts, or die of starvation, as other unfortunates had died be- fore them. There was nothing for it but to resume their labour and hoe to the clanking of their fetters, while, after a promise of what was to follow, in the shape of tying up to the triangles, CONnnicloOolkK<s.c© =