The cast of his countenance was decidedly repulsive.

Kit made signs for him to drink his coffee; but he merely eyed it suspiciously.

I then helped him to a heavy spoonful of mashed potatoes.

He looked at it a while; then, seeing us eating of it, plunged in his fingers, and, taking up a wad, thrust it into his mouth, but immediately spat it out, with a broad laugh, all over his plate and over the other dishes, and kept spitting at random.
"De nasty dog!" ejaculated Palmleaf, rushing forward from the galley: "spit all ober de clean plates!" The savage turned his eye upon the black, and, with a horrible shout, sprang up from his chair, nearly upsetting the table-shelf, and made a bolt for the stairway.

We called to him, and followed as quickly as we could: but, before we were fairly on deck, he was over into his _kayak_, plying his paddle as if for dear life; and the more we called, the faster he _dug to it_.
Suddenly, as we were looking after him and laughing, the heavy report of cannon sounded from the southward.