human
We go 'way now, Yarloo, I think, whispered Stobart.
gpt
Which way horses go?
human
Me go find um nantu (horses), boss, he said.
gpt
Me tie um up 'nother side sand-hill. By'm-by sun come up, black-fella sleep, aller same dead; sleep like blazes. You bring um two fella saddle 'nother side sand-hill. Little bit tucker. We clear out. Me know um this country. He looked round at the naked blacks, all smeared with blood and grease and dirt, and snoring in profound sleep, and laughed quietly.
human
Silly fella, he remarked.
gpt
All about sleep long time. My word, too much long time.