The sails were red-tanned.
"Frenchmen!" shouted Dan.

"No, 'tain't, neither.

Da-ad!" "That's no French," said Disko.

"Salters, your blame luck holds tighter'n a screw in a keg-head." "I've eyes.

It's Uncle Abishai." "You can't nowise tell fer sure." "The head-king of all Jonahs," groaned Tom Platt.