CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
I lost no time in dressing after opening my window wide, there being nofear now of Pomp getting at me to have his revenge while I was asleepfor the tricks I had played upon him.
The boy thrust in his legs with an easy motion, as soon as the windowwas thrown open, raising himself and dropping gently into a sittingposition to watch me wash and dress.
"Well, why are you looking on in that contemptuous way?" I said atlast, as I noted the play of his face.
"Dat not temshus, Mass' George," he said. "I only sit and fink whatlong time you are wash and dress."
"That's not long," I said; "why, how long are you?"
"No time, Mass' George. I go bed like am now, and get up like am now,and come on."
"But do you mean to say you haven't washed this morning?"
"How I 'top go to ribber an' wash, when Mass' George wait to be called?Hab good 'wim when we get to ribber."
I finished dressing, and took Pomp into Sarah's kitchen, where we bothmade a hearty meal, which was interrupted by Pomp insisting upon havingthe shot and powder pouches buckled on him at once, so that he mightmake sure of them, and not be defrauded of the honour of carrying themby any tricks on my part.
He did not look so pleased at having to carry the wallet which had beenwell stored ready for our use, but he submitted to have the strap thrownover his head, and passed one arm through. Then full of eagerness Ishouldered the gun, and we started off into the forest, passing theclearing where the rattlesnake had been killed, and next passing on tothe little river, up whose course we were to make our way, keeping agood look-out for the boat the while.
The morning was glorious, the sun piercing the low-lying mist, whichrapidly grew more transparent, broke up, and seemed to dissolve away.The birds were piping and screaming in the trees, and as we reached theriver, where all was light and sunshine, we started first a great whitecrane, which rose from the shallows and flew off, then a kingfisher withdazzling coat, and soon after came in sight of a little flock ofrosy-winged flamingoes, with their curious, long, snaky, writhing necks,and quaintly-shaped bills, which always looked to me as if they weremade to use upside down.
"Well, I nebber see!" cried Pomp at last, after stepping back, andpreserving the most profound silence time after time.
"What's the matter?"
"Why Mass' George no shoot?"
"Because we don't want the birds. You don't care to have to carry them,do you?"
"No; dis wallet um so dreffle heabby."
We tramped on a little farther, now in the deep shade, now in the goldensunshine when we could get close to the stream, and then Pomp sighed.
"Mass' George like to carry de walletum now?"
"No; I'm carrying the gun."
"Pomp carry de gun."
"Oh, no," I said, "I'll manage that;" and we went slowly on again.There was no track, and near the river where the light and sunshineplayed there was plenty of thick undergrowth, while a short distanceback in the forest the walking was easy among the trees, where scarcelyanything clothed the ground in the deep shadow.
Pomp kept trudging away toward the dark, shadowy forest, and I had tostop him again and again, for the boat was not likely to be in there.On the last occasion he said--
"Walletum dreffle heabby, Mass' George. Don't think better carry uminside?"
"What do you mean?"
"Mass' George eat half, and Pomp eat half. Den we hab nuffum to carry."
I naturally enough burst out laughing.
"Why, we've only just had a good breakfast, and couldn't eat any more."
"Oh yes, Pomp could, big lots."
"And what are we to have to eat by and by, when we get hungry?"
"Mass' George shoot ducks; Pomp make fire an' roace um."
"No, no, no," I cried. "Here, pass me the wallet, and I'll give you arest."
"And Pomp carry de gun," he cried, eagerly.
"No, sir. If you can carry the gun, you can carry the wallet. Here,give me hold."
Pomp looked disappointed as he handed over the wallet very slowly, andafter slinging it on we once more progressed, looking carefully in alldirections in search of the lost boat, but seeing nothing; and I soonhad to come to the conclusion that the chances were very greatly againstour finding the object of our search.
It was slow work, but for some miles the place was familiar, my fatherhaving brought me as far exploring, and Pomp and I having several timesover boated through the dark forest along that bright, winding highway--the river; generally with some difficulty, on account of the fallentrees, and snags, and dense overgrowth, beneath which we often had toforce our way, while at other times we had almost to cut a channelthrough the lilies and other water plants which choked the stream.
It was plain enough to see though, now, how comparatively easy a journeywould have been in a boat, for the large flood-waves which had swept upthe river had scoured out its bed, throwing vast rotting heaps of thesucculent water-growths ashore to rot, fester, and dry in the hot sun.
High up too I could see the traces where the flood had reached, wellmarked by the dry grass hanging among the boughs.
But we kept on forcing our way slowly, soon getting into a part of theriver that was entirely new, and growing more and more fascinating to meat every step.
For there was, in addition to the glorious beauty of the bright, sunnyriver, with its banks where in places the trees drooped down and dippedtheir boughs in the smooth water, and the various growths were of themost dazzling green, always something new--bird, quadruped, insect, orfish taking my attention to such a degree that I often forgot the boatand the object of our journey.
Pomp was just as excited as I, touching my arm every now and then topoint with a black finger at some grey heron standing thigh-deep,watching for the fish that nearly made the waters alive; and perhapsjust as we were waiting to see him make the next dart with his beak atsome shoal of unfortunate fry, there would be what seemed to be a greatcurved bar of silver flash out of the water, to plunge in again, givingus just a glimpse of the fierce fish's glittering scales. Every now andthen some big fellow would leap right out, to come down again with aheavy splash, and send a whole shoal of tiny fish, invisible to usbefore, flying out of the water to avoid their enemy, the river shark.
A little farther, and Pomp's lips would be close to my ear imploring meto shoot as he indicated a bit of sandy or muddy shore where, just clearof the water and looking like a piece of tree-stump, a great alligatorwould lie basking in the hot sunshine.
But I invariably resisted his prayers, and as we went on, the reptilewould suddenly hear our coming and scuffle rapidly out of sight, makinga great swirl in the water as he disappeared.
"No, Pomp," I would say, "the first 'gator I shoot must be that one inthe bathing-pool. Come along."
On we went, with the river winding in and out through the forest, andthere was always something fresh to see: humming-birds that were not sobig as some of the butterflies and beetles that swarmed in the sunshinyparts; great lagoon-like pools where the running of the stream becameinvisible, and we could see far down in the deep water where fish wereslowly gliding in and out among the roots of the trees, which in manyplaces clothed the bottom with masses of fibre. Now Pomp's eyes wouldbe ready to start out of his head as we neared a corner, or starting offinto the forest to avoid some wild or swampy patch, we crept out to theriver's bank again, to startle a little flock of ducks which had beenpreening themselves, and sent feathers like tiny boats floating down thestream.
"Plenty of time," I would keep saying. "We don't want them yet, andI'll shoot them when we do."
"But 'pose dey not dah to shoot when you want um, Mass' George. Idreffle hungry now."
"Ah," I said at last, "our wallet is getting heavy. Let's pick out aplace, and have some lunch."
Pomp pricked up his ears, as he generally did when he heard a new word,and this was one ready for him to adopt.
"Iss," he said, eagerly,
"I berry fond o' lunch. I fought smell umyesday when missie cook um."
"Cook what?" I said.
"Dat lunch, Mass' George."
I laughed, and pressed on to look for a good spot, and soon found onewhere a great tree, whose roots had been undermined by the river, hadfallen diagonally with its branches half in the water, and offering us agood seat just nicely shaded from the burning sun, while we had only tolie out on its great trunk and reach down to be able to fill the tin canI had with the clear water.
The gun was leaned up against the tree-roots; we each sat astride facingeach other, the bigness of the tree making it rather an uneasy seat; Islung the wallet round and placed it between us, and had just thrust inmy hand, while Pomp wrenched himself round to hang the ammunitionpouches close to the gun on a ragged root behind him, when, all at once,the boy's left leg flew over and kicked the wallet out of my hands, andhe bounded a couple of yards away to stand grinning angrily and rubbinghimself.
"Too bad, Mass' George. What do dat for?"
"Do what?" I cried, roaring with laughter, as I stooped down and pickedup the wallet, out of which fortunately nothing had fallen.
"'Tick um pin in poor lil nigger."
"I didn't," I said; "and see what you've done."
"Yes, Mass' George did. Pomp felt um. You wait bit, I serb you out."
"But I tell you I did not, Pomp," I cried, as I wiped my eyes. "Oh, youridiculous-looking little chap! Come and sit down."
"No, won't. You 'tick um pin in poor lil nigger behind leg 'gain."
"I will not, 'pon my honour," I cried. "Oh, you did look comic."
"Made um feel comic dicklus," cried Pomp, catching up the two words Ihad used. "Did hurt."
"Come and sit down."
"You no 'tick um pin in 'gain?"
"I haven't got a pin," I said.
"Den I know; it was um big forn."
"It wasn't, Pomp. Come and sit down and have some lunch."
"No. Won't come. Don't want no lunchum. Hurt poor Pomp dreffle. Youalway play um trick."
"I tell you I didn't do anything, Pomp. There, come along."
He caught sight of the food I brought now from the wallet, and it wasirresistible.
"You no 'tick pin in nigger 'gain?"
"No."
"Nor yet um forn?"
"No. Come along, you little unbeliever. Come along."
"I serb you out fo dat, Mass' George, you see," he said, sidling back tothe tree, watching me cautiously the while.
"Oh, very well, I'll forgive you," I said, as he retook his place. "Isay, Pomp, I am thirsty."
"So 'm I, Mass' George. Dat lunchum?"
"Yes; that's lunch," I said, as I laid the neatly-done-up napkincontaining provision of some kind on the tree-trunk between us, andtaking out the tin can I leaned right back, gripping the tree with bothlegs, and lowering my hand I dipped the vessel full of water.
I was just in the act of rising cautiously and very slowly, when a sharppain in the fleshy part of my leg made me spring forward in agony,dashing the water in Pomp's face, knocking the wallet and its contentsover sidewise, and in my pain and rage I seized the boy to begin cuffinghim, while he wrestled with me to get away, as we hugged and struggledlike two fighting men in a _melee_ on the same horse.
"How dare you!" I panted; "that was the point of your knife. I'llteach you to--Oh, murder!"
"Oh, Mass' George, don't! _Oh_! Oh! Oh!"
We both made a bound together, went off the trunk sidewise, and Pompstruggled up, tore off his shirt and drawers, and began to beat andshake them, and then peep inside, pausing every moment to have a rub;while I, without going to his extreme, was doing the best I could to ridmyself of my pain.
"Nas' lil fing!" cried Pomp, stamping on something in the grass. "Look,look, Mass' George, make hase; dey eat all de lunchum."
The mystery was out. We had seated ourselves upon the home of a viciouskind of ant, whose nest was under the rotten bark of the tree, and assoon as Pomp realised the truth he danced about with delight.
"I fought you 'tick pin in lil nigger. You fought I 'tick um knife inMass' George! You catch um, too."
"Yes," I said, wriggling under my clothes, and rubbing myself. "Oh!Quick! Back of my neck, Pomp, look. Biting."
Pomp sprang to me in an instant.
"I got um, Mass' George. Dah!" he cried, as he placed the viciouslittle insect between his teeth, and bit it in two. "You no bite youngmassa 'gain. How you like be bite, sah? Make you feel dicklus, eh?Oh! Ugh! Tiff! Tiff! Tiff! Oh, um do tase nasty."
Pomp spat and shuddered and ended by washing out his mouth by running alittle way, lying flat with his head over the bank, and scooping up somewater with his hand.
Meanwhile I cautiously picked up the provisions, the napkin and wallet,and carefully shook them clear of the vicious little things--no easyjob, by the way; after which, stinging and smarting still, I soughtanother place where we could eat our meal in peace.
Mass' George: A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah Page 23