CHAPTER XI.
THE PAWPAWS.
Three more torches of palmetto leaves were quickly made, lighted up,and, with extra handfuls of the green leaves, our party advancedtowards the tree where they had first seen the bear. They were met bya buzzing horde of the workers who swarmed out to defend their homes,but these were soon silenced by the pungent smoke of the torches andour hunters soon stood by the tree where bruin had met his Waterloo.
A few feet from the ground was a massive limb and a little above it wasa cavity in the trunk itself, around which more bees buzzedindustriously. A few waves of the smoke torches quieted these, andCharley swung himself up on the limb beside the hole. A little moresmoke completed the job and with his hunting-knife he dug out greatsquares of the clear, dripping comb, which he passed down to hiscompanions who had stripped off a slab of hickory bark for itsreception.
"That is more than we can eat," he at last declared, slipping to theground, "besides I've got a 'hunch' that Chris has got that bear meatready for us and I am hungry as a wolf."
"It may be cooked all right but it will still be too tough to eat,"mourned Walter.
"Don't you believe it," chuckled Charley, "those bear steaks are goingto be as tender as chicken. If you will not give me away to Chris, Iwill show you the reason why."
The captain and Walter eagerly gave the promise of secrecy.
"See that shrub?" said the instructor, pointing to a banana-like stalkof a tree-like shrub without branches, but from which protruded large,round glossy leaves with short stems. Close to its trunk near thecrown hung a close cluster of golden fruit about the size of an apple.
Walter plucked one of the ripe fruit and bit into it hungrily, but spatout the mouthful in disgust.
"You have to acquire a taste for it, the same as you have to for turtleeggs, olives, and a dozen other things that taste unpleasant at first,"Charley said. "You'll find that little tree scattered all over Floridawhere the soil is at all rich. It is called pawpaw by the natives, whoregard it highly for the sake of its one peculiar virtue. A few dropsof the juice of its ripe fruit spread over a tough Florida steak willin a few minutes, make it as tender as veal. The same results can beattained by wrapping the steak in the leaves and letting it lay aslightly longer time. The best of it is that meat treated in thismanner is not injured in the slightest. In fact it seems to gain inflavor from the treatment. But there is Chris waving to us. Keepquiet about the pawpaws. I want to hear his explanation."
They were too hungry to lose any time in obeying Chris' signals. Thelittle darky had arranged a kind of tablecloth of moss on the groundand had put upon it slabs of clean cut bark for plates, while upon eachrude plate reposed a thick, juicy, bear steak, done to a turn. Thesteak was delicious and tender as chicken and with a taste all its own.
"You're a born cook, Chris," declared Walter, as he paused to take afull breath. "What makes it so tender, now? that which we cooked wastough as leather."
"You chillens doan know how to cook like dis nigger," declared the vainlittle darky, proudly. "Hit's all in de cookin', Massa Walter, hit'sall in de cookin'."
Charley turned over a morsel of his steak, examined it closely andsniffed it critically, while Chris watched him with anxious suspicion,and Walter with mischief dancing in his eyes.
Slowly Charley's eyes took on an absent, far-away look, his arms andlegs seemed to stiffen, and a tremor ran through his limbs. Chriswatched him with distending eyeballs.
"I see," Charley said, in a low, hollow voice, "I see a tree, not a bigtree, but a small one. It has round, green leaves and a cluster ofgolden fruit near the top. What is it I see creeping toward the tree,a monkey? No, not a monkey, though it looks like one. It's a boy, asmall black boy. He nears the tree. He looks around to see if anyoneis watching. He shins up the tree and breaks off several of theleaves. I see him again near a big fire. He still has the leaves. Heis wrapping them around pieces of meat. As he does it, I can hear himchuckling to himself. I see----"
"Oh golly, stop him, stop him! He's got de 'haunts'!" cried Chris interror, as he grabbed Charley by the shoulder and shook him wildly.
Charley seemed to come to with a start. "Where was I, what was Isaying?" he murmured.
"You was filled wid de haunts," declared Chris solemnly. "You was jes'tellin' to yourself how dis shiftless, lying nigger got dem pawpawleaves to make dis bar meat tender."
Walter and the captain were roaring with laughter, but Chris went onsolemnly with his confession. "Golly, but dis nigger's been a powerfulliar lots ob times, but you doan ketch him at it any more. You sho' isgot de conjerer eye, Massa Charley, else how you know dat lake wid decrane on it was full of grass like knives, else how you see bees rounddat bear when you is too far off to see 'em, else how you see Chrisgetting dem pawpaw leaves when you is clean out ob sight. I guess disnigger doan lie any more when you is round, Massa Charley."
"Well, if you are all through, we had better make back for camp for thesun is getting low," said Charley, hurriedly, to forestall a lecture onthe wickedness of lying, which he saw by the working of the captain'sfeatures, he was preparing to deliver to the little culprit.
Their things were quickly collected together and they were soon headedback to their point. With the passing of the excitement of the day,they all began to have vague alarms as to what might have happenedduring their absence, and to reproach themselves for leaving the placeso long unguarded.
Their reproaches were wasted, however, for they found everything asthey had left it, save stuck in the bark of a pine tree near the fire,was the badly scrawled notice. "Don't forget to pull out from thesediggin's afore to-morrow noon."
"They evidently mean business," said Walter, as the hunters stoodtogether reading the dirty, ill-written paper.
"And I'm not so sure but what we would be wiser if we obeyed theirwarning, but I hate to run away from such a crowd," observed Charleygravely.
"I feel the same way," agreed Walter, "but it would be cowardly to gonow and leave the Seminoles to their fate."
"Aye, aye, lad, truly spoken," said the captain, firmly, "stay we must."
"Golly, I jis guess dis nigger ain't none scairt of theirthreatenings," chimed in Chris.
"Well, we seem to be pretty well agreed," Charley said, trying in vainto shake off the vague feeling of impending evil, that had suddenlysettled over him. "Speaking for myself, I feel too keyed up andanxious to do anything much until we get this thing over with. I movewe get all our gear into shape and try to plan some way to get theplume birds hereafter without killing. That will take us until dark, Iguess. Then let's quietly take our blankets and move back into theforest a ways. Our neighbors may take a notion to pay us a visitwithout waiting for to-morrow."
The others readily agreed to this proposal and were soon busy trying toscheme out some means to take their feathered prey alive.
It was Chris who at last solved the problem.
"You know dat stuff we used puttin' dem boats together?" he demanded.
"A quick drying glue," exclaimed Charley, catching the idea at once.
"Golly, I should say hit was," grinned Chris, "hit dun stick my fingerstogether so tight that it peared like I'd never get 'em apart. Nowdoan you reckon by spreading hit thick-like on dem limbs whar dem birdsroosts dat hit would hold 'em down till we-alls got ready to pry 'emoff?"
"The lad's got the right idea, I reckon," allowed the captain. "Wecould fix the limbs up just before dusk and needn't bother about 'emany more until it was broad daylight."
The boys were unstinted in their praise of Chris' suggestion until thelittle darky forgot the humiliation of the day and was once more hisbright, vain, cheery self.
As night shut down on the point, more wood was heaped upon the fire, ahasty lunch was made from the remains of dinner, and, taking their gunsand blankets with them, our hunters stole off into the depths of thewood. They soon reached a little open spot that they had noted duringthe day. Their blankets w
ere spread out upon the moss-covered groundclose together so as to be encircled with the hair rope which Charleyhad brought to protect them from snakes while sleeping.
Before they wrapped themselves in their blankets, the captain offeredup a fervent, simple prayer of thanks for past protection and a pleafor blessings on the work before them on the morrow.
"How much of that glue stuff is there, Chris?" whispered Walter as theystretched out to rest.
"'Bout two quarts, I reckon."
"Pshaw, that will not last us any time," said Walter in disappointment."It will be all gone in a week."
It was well for the lad's peace of mind that he could not look forwardinto the future and see how little of Chris's discovery was destined tobe used.
Boy Chums in the Forest; Or, Hunting for Plume Birds in the Florida Everglades Page 11