Mass' George: A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

  "No, no, Pomp," I said, after a time, during which we had beenthoroughly enjoying our food, "you've had quite enough. We shall wantto make this last till night."

  "Mass' George no want to finish um all up?"

  "No."

  "So not hav' to carry walletum."

  "Of course not. We shall soon be hungry again."

  "Catch fis; shoot de duck; Pomp fine plenty 'tick; and make a fire."

  "I wish you'd find the boat," I said, packing up the remains of the mealthe while. "Think it's any use to go any farther?"

  "Yes; go right on, Mass' George; plenty time."

  "Yes, we'll go on," I said, for I felt refreshed and rested, and as if Ishould like to go journeying on for days--the beauty of the river andthe various things we saw exciting a desire to continue our trip. "Idon't suppose any one ever came here before, but we mustn't lose ourway."

  "Couldn't lose way, Mass' George. Ony got to keep by ribber, and heshow de way back."

  "Of course," I said; "I forgot that."

  "No walk back."

  "I hope not," I said. "We are going to find the boat."

  Pomp made a grimace and looked round, as if to say, "Not likely."

  "No find a boat, put lot ob 'tick togedder and float down de ribberhome."

  "Ah, well, we'll see," I said; and we continued our journey for hourafter hour, always finding some fresh beauty to entice me, or livingobject for Pomp to stalk and beg me to shoot. But though we looked hereand there as well as we could, there was no sign of the object of oursearch; in fact, I soon began to feel that I had embarked upon anenterprise that was almost an impossibility.

  The river had now grown a little swifter, and though there was plenty ofswampy land down by its banks, it seemed as if we were getting into amore elevated region, the margin being higher, and here and there quiteprecipitous, but it was always more beautiful, and the objects ofnatural history grew frequent every hour.

  Now it was a squirrel, of which there seemed to be great numbers; thenall at once, as we were threading our way through the low bushes,something sprang up from its lair and went bounding off among the trees,giving me just a glimpse of a pretty head with large eyes and smallhorns, before it was gone.

  "Oh, Mass' George, you ought shoot dat," said Pomp, reproachfully. "Datberry good to eat."

  "If I had been on the look-out, I could not have hit it," I said. "ButI say, Pomp," I continued, looking round as we came upon a high sandybluff through which the river had cut its way, and whose dry, sun-bathedsides offered a pleasant resting-place, "aren't you tired?"

  "No," said the boy, thoughtfully, "Pomp not bit tired, only one leg."

  "Well, are you hungry then?"

  "Dreffle, Mass' George. You like emp de walletum now?"

  "Yes, we'll sit down and have a good meal, and then we shall have tomake haste back."

  "Top lil bit, Mass' George," said the boy, cautiously.

  "Oh no, there are no pins and forns there to 'tick in us," I said.

  "No, Mass' George, but dat sort o' place for rattle tailum 'nake. I golook fust."

  I felt a shudder run through me at the mention of the noxious creature,and brought the gun to bear as we advanced.

  "No; no shoot," whispered the boy. "Big 'tick bess for 'nake."

  We advanced very cautiously, with our eyes searching the ground, butthere was nothing in sight, and after selecting a comfortable placewhere the sand had slowly been washed down from the bluff till it laythick and dry as when it is drifted on the seashore, we sat down, thefine grains feeling delightful to our limbs, and made a hearty meal ofthe remains left in the wallet.

  It was wonderfully still there, the trees being quite motionless, andthe only sounds heard being the hum of some insect and the ripple of thewater a dozen yards away. High above us through the thin tracery of anoverhanging tree the sky looked of a brilliant blue, and away to leftand right extended the forest.

  Pomp was lying face downwards, lazily scooping a hole in the sand, andwatching it trickle back as fast as he scraped it away, just as if itwere so much dry water in grains. I was lying on my back where the sandsloped up to the bank; and as I gazed at the trees, half expecting tosee our boat sticking somewhere up among the branches, it seemed to meas if I had never felt so happy and contented before. Perhaps it wasthe soft, clear atmosphere, or the fact that I was resting, or that Ihad just partaken of a pleasant meal. I don't know. All I can say isthat everything felt peaceful and restful; even Pomp, who as a rule waslike a piece of spring in motion. There was a lovely pale blue haze inthe distance, and a warm golden glow nearer at hand; the sun was gettingwell to the west; and I knew that we must soon start and walk fast, soas to get back, but I did not feel disposed to move for a few minutes.

  We should be able to walk so much better after a rest, I thought, and weshould not stop to look for the boat, or at anything, but keep steadilywalking on, so that it would not take us a quarter of the time; and ifnight did come on, the moon would rise early, and we could easily get tothe house.

  How deliriously faint and blue that looked right away there in thedistance, and how still it all was! Even Pomp enjoyed the silence, andI would not disturb him yet, but let him rest too. No fear of anysnakes coming if we were there, and in a few minutes I'd jump up, tellPomp, and we'd go and have a delicious bathe, and dry ourselves in thewarm sand; that would make us walk splendidly. But I would not wake himyet--not just yet--I'd wake him presently, for he was so still that hemust have gone to sleep. There he lay with his face to the sand, andhis fingers half buried in the hole he had been scraping.

  "What a fellow he is to snooze!" I thought to myself. "Lucky I'm notso ready to go to sleep. How--how long shall I wait before I wakehim?--How long--how long--how--"