Blacks profess to be able to send messages which another
may understand, but the tests applied locally invariably break down.
Another message-stick was made on the premises by George, but not to
order. A genuine, unprompted natural effort, it is merely a slip of
pine, 4 inches long, a quarter of an inch broad and flat, upon which
are cut spiral intersecting grooves. George's birthplace is Cooktown,
and his message-stick resembles in design that brought by Mattie from
Bo'sun of Cooktown for Mickie of the Palms. Now George professes to be
able to write English, but he is so shy and diffident over the
accomplishment that neither persuasion nor offer of reward induces him
to practise it. When he produced the "letter," more than usual
interest was taken in it, for it seemed to offer an exceptional
opportunity for ascertaining the extent of his literary pretensions. I
asked him--"Who this for, George?" George looked at the stick long
and curiously with a puzzled, concentrated expression, as one might
assume when examining a novel and interesting problem demanding prompt
solution. With an enlightening smile he in time replied--"This for
Charlie.
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