by Mark Twain
CHAPTER VIII
The sun was up so high when I waked that I judged it was after eighto'clock. I laid there in the grass and the cool shade thinking aboutthings, and feeling rested and ruther comfortable and satisfied. Icould see the sun out at one or two holes, but mostly it was big treesall about, and gloomy in there amongst them. There was freckled placeson the ground where the light sifted down through the leaves, and thefreckled places swapped about a little, showing there was a littlebreeze up there. A couple of squirrels set on a limb and jabbered atme very friendly.
I was powerful lazy and comfortable--didn't want to get up and cookbreakfast. Well, I was dozing off again when I thinks I hears a deepsound of "boom!" away up the river. I rouses up, and rests on my elbowand listens; pretty soon I hears it again. I hopped up, and went andlooked out at a hole in the leaves, and I see a bunch of smoke layingon the water a long ways up--about abreast the ferry. And there wasthe ferryboat full of people floating along down. I knowed what wasthe matter now. "Boom!" I see the white smoke squirt out of theferryboat's side. You see, they was firing cannon over the water,trying to make my carcass come to the top.
I was pretty hungry, but it warn't going to do for me to start a fire,because they might see the smoke. So I set there and watched thecannon-smoke and listened to the boom. The river was a mile widethere, and it always looks pretty on a summer morning--so I was havinga good enough time seeing them hunt for my remainders if I only had abite to eat. Well, then I happened to think how they always putquicksilver in loaves of bread and float them off, because they alwaysgo right to the drownded carcass and stop there. So, says I, I'll keepa lookout, and if any of them's floating around after me I'll givethem a show. I changed to the Illinois edge of the island to see whatluck I could have, and I warn't disappointed. A big double loaf comealong, and I most got it with a long stick, but my foot slipped andshe floated out further. Of course I was where the current set in theclosest to the shore--I knowed enough for that. But by and by alongcomes another one, and this time I won. I took out the plug and shookout the little dab of quicksilver, and set my teeth in. It was"baker's bread"--what the quality eat; none of your low-downcorn-pone.
I got a good place amongst the leaves, and set there on a log,munching the bread and watching the ferry-boat, and very wellsatisfied. And then something struck me. I says, now I reckon thewidow or the parson or somebody prayed that this bread would find me,and here it has gone and done it. So there ain't no doubt but there issomething in that thing--that is, there's something in it when a bodylike the widow or the parson prays, but it don't work for me, and Ireckon it don't work for only just the right kind.
I lit a pipe and had a good long smoke, and went on watching. Theferryboat was floating with the current, and I allowed I'd have achance to see who was aboard when she come along, because she wouldcome in close, where the bread did. When she'd got pretty well alongdown towards me, I put out my pipe and went to where I fished out thebread, and laid down behind a log on the bank in a little open place.Where the log forked I could peep through.
By and by she come along, and she drifted in so close that they could'a' run out a plank and walked ashore. Most everybody was on the boat.Pap, and Judge Thatcher, and Bessie Thatcher, and Joe Harper, and TomSawyer, and his old Aunt Polly, and Sid and Mary, and plenty more.Everybody was talking about the murder, but the captain broke in andsays:
"Look sharp, now; the current sets in the closest here, and maybe he'swashed ashore and got tangled amongst the brush at the water's edge. Ihope so, anyway."
I didn't hope so. They all crowded up and leaned over the rails,nearly in my face, and kept still, watching with all their might. Icould see them first-rate, but they couldn't see me. Then the captainsung out: "Stand away!" and the cannon let off such a blast rightbefore me that it made me deef with the noise and pretty near blindwith the smoke, and I judged I was gone. If they'd 'a' had somebullets in, I reckon they'd 'a' got the corpse they was after. Well, Isee I warn't hurt, thanks to goodness. The boat floated on and wentout of sight around the shoulder of the island. I could hear thebooming now and then, further and further off, and by and by, after anhour, I didn't hear it no more. The island was three mile long. Ijudged they had got to the foot, and was giving it up. But they didn'tyet awhile. They turned around the foot of the island and started upthe channel on the Missouri side, under steam, and booming once in awhile as they went. I crossed over to that side and watched them. Whenthey got abreast the head of the island they quit shooting and droppedover to the Missouri shore and went home to the town.
I knowed I was all right now. Nobody else would come a-hunting afterme. I got my traps out of the canoe and made me a nice camp in thethick woods. I made a kind of a tent out of my blankets to put mythings under so the rain couldn't get at them. I catched a catfish andhaggled him open with my saw, and towards sundown I started mycamp-fire and had supper. Then I set out a line to catch some fish forbreakfast.
When it was dark I set by my camp-fire smoking, and feeling prettywell satisfied; but by and by it got sort of lonesome, and so I wentand set on the bank and listened to the current swashing along, andcounted the stars and drift-logs and rafts that come down, and thenwent to bed; there ain't no better way to put in time when you arelonesome; you can't stay so, you soon get over it.
And so for three days and nights. No difference--just the same thing.But the next day I went exploring around down through the island. Iwas boss of it; it all belonged to me, so to say, and I wanted to knowall about it; but mainly I wanted to put in the time. I found plentystrawberries, ripe and prime; and green summer grapes, and greenrazberries; and the green blackberries was just beginning to show.They would all come handy by and by, I judged.
Well, I went fooling along in the deep woods till I judged I warn'tfar from the foot of the island. I had my gun along, but I hadn't shotnothing; it was for protection; thought I would kill some game nighhome. About this time I mighty near stepped on a good-sized snake, andit went sliding off through the grass and flowers, and I after it,trying to get a shot at it. I clipped along, and all of a sudden Ibounded right on to the ashes of a camp-fire that was still smoking.
My heart jumped up amongst my lungs. I never waited for to lookfurther, but uncocked my gun and went sneaking back on my tiptoes asfast as ever I could. Every now and then I stopped a second amongstthe thick leaves and listened, but my breath come so hard I couldn'thear nothing else. I slunk along another piece further, then listenedagain; and so on, and so on. If I see a stump, I took it for a man; ifI trod on a stick and broke it, it made me feel like a person had cutone of my breaths in two and I only got half, and the short half, too.
When I got to camp I warn't feeling very brash, there warn't much sandin my craw; but I says, this ain't no time to be fooling around. So Igot all my traps into my canoe again so as to have them out of sight,and I put out the fire and scattered the ashes around to look like anold last-year's camp, and then clumb a tree.
I reckon I was up in the tree two hours; but I didn't see nothing, Ididn't hear nothing--I only _thought_ I heard and seen as much as athousand things. Well, I couldn't stay up there forever; so at last Igot down, but I kept in the thick woods and on the lookout all thetime. All I could get to eat was berries and what was left over frombreakfast.
By the time it was night I was pretty hungry. So when it was good anddark I slid out from shore before moonrise and paddled over to theIllinois bank--about a quarter of a mile. I went out in the woods andcooked a supper, and I had about made up my mind I would stay thereall night when I hear a _plunkety-plunk_, _plunkety-plunk_, and saysto myself, horses coming; and next I hear people's voices. I goteverything into the canoe as quick as I could, and then went creepingthrough the woods to see what I could find out. I hadn't got far whenI hear a man say:
"We better camp here if we can find a good place; the horses is aboutbeat out. Let's look around."
I didn't wait, but shoved out and paddled away easy. I tied up in theold
place, and reckoned I would sleep in the canoe.
I didn't sleep much. I couldn't, somehow, for thinking. And every timeI waked up I thought somebody had me by the neck. So the sleep didn'tdo me no good. By and by I says to myself, I can't live this way; I'ma-going to find out who it is that's here on the island with me; I'llfind it out or bust. Well, I felt better right off.
So I took my paddle and slid out from shore just a step or two, andthen let the canoe drop along down amongst the shadows. The moon wasshining, and outside of the shadows it made it most as light as day. Ipoked along well on to an hour, everything still as rocks and soundasleep. Well, by this time I was most down to the foot of the island.A little ripply, cool breeze begun to blow, and that was as good assaying the night was about done. I give her a turn with the paddle andbrung her nose to shore; then I got my gun and slipped out and intothe edge of the woods. I sat down there on a log, and looked outthrough the leaves. I see the moon go off watch, and the darknessbegin to blanket the river. But in a little while I see a pale streakover the treetops, and knowed the day was coming. So I took my gun andslipped off towards where I had run across that camp-fire, stoppingevery minute or two to listen. But I hadn't no luck somehow; Icouldn't seem to find the place. But by and by, sure enough, I catcheda glimpse of fire away through the trees. I went for it, cautious andslow. By and by I was close enough to have a look, and there laid aman on the ground. It most give me the fantods. He had a blanketaround his head, and his head was nearly in the fire. I set therebehind a clump of bushes in about six foot of him, and kept my eyes onhim steady. It was getting gray daylight now. Pretty soon he gappedand stretched himself and hove off the blanket, and it was MissWatson's Jim! I bet I was glad to see him. I says:
"Hello, Jim!" and skipped out.
He bounced up and stared at me wild. Then he drops down on his knees,and puts his hands together and says:
"Doan' hurt me--don't! I hain't ever done no harm to a ghos'. I alwuzliked dead people, en done all I could for 'em. You go en git in deriver ag'in, whah you b'longs, en doan' do nuffn to Ole Jim, 'at 'uzalwuz yo' fren'."
Well, I warn't long making him understand I warn't dead. I was ever soglad to see Jim. I warn't lonesome now. I told him I warn't afraid of_him_ telling the people where I was. I talked along, but he only setthere and looked at me; never said nothing. Then I says:
"It's good daylight. Le's get breakfast. Make up your camp-fire good."
"What's de use er makin' up de camp-fire to cook strawbries en sichtruck? But you got a gun, hain't you? Den we kin git sumfn better denstrawbries."
"Strawberries and such truck," I says. "Is that what you live on?"
"I couldn' git nuffn else," he says.
"Why, how long you been on the island, Jim?"
"I come heah de night arter you's killed."
"What, all that time?"
"Yes-indeedy."
"And ain't you had nothing but that kind of rubbage to eat?"
"No, sah--nuffn else."
"Well, you must be most starved, ain't you?"
"I reck'n I could eat a hoss. I think I could. How long you ben on deislan'?"
"Since the night I got killed."
"No! W'y, what has you lived on? But you got a gun. Oh, yes, you got agun. Dat's good. Now you kill sumfn en I'll make up de fire."
So we went over to where the canoe was, and while he built a fire in agrassy open place amongst the trees, I fetched meal and bacon andcoffee, and coffee-pot and frying-pan, and sugar and tin cups, and thenigger was set back considerable, because he reckoned it was all donewith witchcraft. I catched a good big catfish, too, and Jim cleanedhim with his knife, and fried him.
When breakfast was ready we lolled on the grass and eat it smokinghot. Jim laid it in with all his might, for he was most about starved.Then when we had got pretty well stuffed, we laid off and lazied.
By and by Jim says:
"But looky here, Huck, who wuz it dat 'uz killed in dat shanty ef itwarn't you?"
Then I told him the whole thing, and he said it was smart. He said TomSawyer couldn't get up no better plan than what I had. Then I says:
"How do you come to be here, Jim, and how'd you get here?"
He looked pretty uneasy, and didn't say nothing for a minute. Then hesays:
"Maybe I better not tell."
"Why, Jim?"
"Well, dey's reasons. But you wouldn' tell on me ef I 'uz to tell you,would you, Huck?"
"Blamed if I would, Jim."
"Well, I b'lieve you, Huck. I--I _run off_."
"Jim!"
"But mind, you said you wouldn' tell--you know you said you wouldn'tell, Huck."
"Well, I did. I said I wouldn't, and I'll stick to it. Honest _injun_,I will. People would call me a low-down Abolitionist and despise mefor keeping mum--but that don't make no difference. I ain't a-going totell, and I ain't a-going back there, anyways. So, now, le's know allabout it."
"Well, you see, it 'uz dis way. Ole missus--dat's Miss Watson--shepecks on me all de time, en treats me pooty rough, but she awluz saidshe wouldn' sell me down to Orleans. But I noticed dey wuz a niggertrader roun' de place considable lately, en I begin to git oneasy.Well, one night I creeps to de do' pooty late, en de do' warn't quiteshet, en I hear old missus tell de widder she gwyne to sell me down toOrleans, but she didn' want to, but she could git eight hund'd dollarsfor me, en it 'uz sich a big stack o' money she couldn' resis'. Dewidder she try to git her to say she wouldn't do it, but I neverwaited to hear de res'. I lit out mighty quick, I tell you.
"I tuck out en shin down de hill, en 'spec to steal a skift 'long desho' som'ers 'bove de town, but dey wuz people a-stirring yit, so Ihid in de ole tumbledown cooper shop on de bank to wait for everybodyto go 'way. Well, I wuz dah all night. Dey wuz somebody roun' all detime. 'Long 'bout six in de mawnin' skifts begin to go by, en 'bouteight er nine every skift dat went 'long wuz talkin' 'bout how yo' papcome over to de town en say you's killed. Dese las' skifts wuz full o'ladies en genlmen a-goin' over for to see de place. Sometimes dey'dpull up at de sho' en take a res' b'fo' dey started acrost, so by detalk I got to know all 'bout de killin'. I 'uz powerful sorry you'skilled, Huck, but I ain't no mo' now.
"I laid dah under de shavin's all day. I 'uz hungry, but I warn'tafeard; bekase I knowed ole missus en de widder wuz goin' to start tode camp-meet'n' right arter breakfas' en be gone all day, en dey knowsI goes off wid de cattle 'bout daylight, so dey wouldn' 'spec to seeme roun' de place, en so dey wouldn' miss me tell arter dark in deevenin'. De yuther servants wouldn' miss me, kase dey'd shin out entake holiday soon as de ole folks 'uz out'n de way.
"Well, when it come dark I tuck out up de river road, en went 'bouttwo mile er more to whah dey warn't no houses. I'd made up my mine'bout what I's a-gwyne to do. You see, ef I kep' on tryin' to git awayafoot, de dogs 'ud track me; ef I stole a skift to cross over, dey'dmiss dat skift, you see, en dey'd know 'bout whah I'd lan' on deyuther side, en whah to pick up my track. So I says, a raff is whatI's arter; it doan' _make_ no track.
"I see a light a-comin' roun' de p'int bymeby, so I wade' in en shove'a log ahead o' me en swum more'n half-way acrost de river, en got in'mongst de drift-wood, en kep' my head down low, en kinder swum aginde current tell de raff come along. Den I swum to de stern uv it entuck a-holt. It clouded up en 'uz pooty dark for a little while. So Iclumb up en laid down on de planks. De men 'uz all 'way yonder in demiddle, whah de lantern wuz. De river wuz a-risin', en dey wuz a goodcurrent; so I reck'n'd 'at by fo' in de mawnin' I'd be twenty-fivemile down de river, en den I'd slip in jis b'fo' daylight en swimasho', en take to de woods on de Illinois side.
"But I didn' have no luck. When we 'uz mos' down to de head er deislan' a man begin to come aft wid de lantern. I see it warn't no usefer to wait, so I slid overboard en struck out fer de islan'. Well, Ihad a notion I could lan' mos' anywhers, but I couldn't--bank toobluff. I uz mos' to de foot er de islan' b'fo' I foun' a good place. Iwent into de woods en jedged I wouldn' fool wid raffs no mo', long
asdey move de lantern roun' so. I had my pipe en a plug er dog-leg ensome matches in my cap, en dey warn't wet, so I 'uz all right."
"And so you ain't had no meat nor bread to eat all this time? Whydidn't you get mud-turkles?"
"How you gwyne to git 'm? You can't slip up on um en grab um; enhow's a body gwyne to hit um wid a rock? How could a body do it in denight? En I warn't gwyne to show mysef on de bank in de daytime."
"Well, that's so. You've had to keep in the woods all the time, ofcourse. Did you hear 'em shooting the cannon?"
"Oh, yes. I knowed dey was arter you. I see um go by heah--watched umthoo de bushes."
Some young birds come along, flying a yard or two at a time andlighting. Jim said it was a sign it was going to rain. He said it wasa sign when young chickens flew that way, and so he reckoned it wasthe same way when young birds done it. I was going to catch some ofthem, but Jim wouldn't let me. He said it was death. He said hisfather laid mighty sick once, and some of them catched a bird, and hisold granny said his father would die, and he did.
And Jim said you mustn't count the things you are going to cook fordinner, because that would bring bad luck. The same if you shook thetablecloth after sundown. And he said if a man owned a beehive andthat man died, the bees must be told about it before sun-up nextmorning, or else the bees would all weaken down and quit work and die.Jim said bees wouldn't sting idiots; but I didn't believe that,because I had tried them lots of times myself, and they wouldn't stingme.
I had heard about some of these things before, but not all of them.Jim knowed all kinds of signs. He said he knowed most everything. Isaid it looked to me like all the signs was about bad luck, and so Iasked him if there warn't any good-luck signs. He says:
"Mighty few--an' _dey_ ain't no use to a body. What you want to knowwhen good luck's a-comin' for? Want to keep it off?" And he said: "Efyou's got hairy arms en a hairy breas', it's a sign dat you's a-gwyneto be rich. Well, dey's some use in a sign like dat, 'kase it's so furahead. You see, maybe you's got to be po' a long time fust, en so youmight git discourage' en kill yo'sef 'f you didn' know by de sign datyou gwyne to be rich bymeby."
"Have you got hairy arms and a hairy breast, Jim?"
"What's de use to ax dat question? Don't you see I has?"
"Well, are you rich?"
"No, but I ben rich wunst, and gwyne to be rich ag'in. Wunst I hadfoteen dollars, but I tuck to specalat'n', en got busted out."
"What did you speculate in, Jim?"
"Well, fust I tackled stock."
"What kind of stock?"
"Why, live stock--cattle, you know. I put ten dollars in a cow. But Iain' gwyne to resk no mo' money in stock. De cow up 'n' died on myhan's."
"So you lost the ten dollars."
"No, I didn't lose it all. I on'y los' 'bout nine of it. I sole dehide en taller for a dollar en ten cents."
"You had five dollars and ten cents left. Did you speculate any more?"
"Yes. You know that one-laigged nigger dat b'longs to old MistoBradish? Well, he sot up a bank, en say anybody dat put in a dollarwould git fo' dollars mo' at de en' er de year. Well, all de niggerswent in, but dey didn't have much. I wuz de on'y one dat had much. SoI stuck out for mo' dan fo' dollars, en I said 'f I didn' git it I'dstart a bank mysef. Well, o' course dat nigger want' to keep me out erde business, bekase he says dey warn't business 'nough for two banks,so he say I could put in my five dollars en he pay me thirty-five atde en' er de year.
"So I done it. Den I reck'n'd I'd inves' de thirty-five dollars rightoff en keep things a-movin'. Dey wuz a nigger name' Bob, dat hadketched a wood-flat, en his marster didn' know it; en I bought itoff'n him en told him to take de thirty-five dollars when de en' er deyear come; but somebody stole de wood-flat dat night, en nex' day deone-laigged nigger say de bank's busted. So dey didn' none uv us gitno money."
"What did you do with the ten cents, Jim?"
"Well, I 'uz gwyne to spen' it, but I had a dream, en de dream tole meto give it to a nigger name' Balum--Balum's Ass dey call him forshort; he's one er dem chuckleheads, you know. But he's lucky, deysay, en I see I warn't lucky. De dream say let Balum inves' de tencents en he'd make a raise for me. Well, Balum he tuck de money, enwhen he wuz in church he hear de preacher say dat whoever give to depo' len' to de Lord, en boun' to git his money back a hund'd times. SoBalum he tuck en give de ten cents to de po', en laid low to see whatwuz gwyne to come of it."
"Well, what did come of it, Jim?"
"Nuffn never come of it. I couldn' manage to k'leck dat money no way;en Balum he couldn'. I ain' gwyne to len' no mo' money 'dout I see desecurity. Boun' to git yo' money back a hund'd times, de preachersays! Ef I could git de ten _cents_ back, I'd call it squah, en beglad er de chanst."
"Well, it's all right anyway, Jim, long as you're going to be richagain some time or other."
"Yes; en I's rich now, come to look at it. I owns mysef, en I's wutheight hund'd dollars. I wisht I had de money, I wouldn' want no mo'."
