What for no all same black fellow ?' McKeith cut short the argument--sound logic it seemed to Lady Biddy--by an imperious, silencing gesture, and a sudden unfurling of his stockwhip, which made a hissing sound as it writhed along the ground like a snake.

The black boy sprang aside.

McKeith pointed to the gidia scrub and issued a terse command in the native language.
'YAN' (go).

'BA'AL YOU WOOLLA' (don't talk any more).

'YAN.' Wombo turned appealingly to Lady Bridget.
'Lathychap!' 'YAN,' stormed McKeith again, and, as Lady Bridget made a movement of sympathetic response towards the black fellow, he added sternly: 'You'll oblige me by not interfering in this business.