CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
"Now, Mass' George," said Pomp, as we stood at the foot of the tree, andstamped about to get rid of the stiffness, and cold brought on by ourcramped position on the branch, "de fuss ting am breckfuss. I sodreffle hungry."
"But we ate everything last night," I said.
"Neb mind; plenty duck in de ribber. You go shoot four lil duck, dattwo piece, while Pomp make fire to roace um."
"But how are we to get a light?"
"You see," he said, as he busily began to get together all the loosesticks he could find lying about, at the same time showing me a stoneand his knife with a little bag full of tinder. "I soon get light,Mass' George; I get big fire much soon you get de duck."
The proposition was so sensible that I went off with the gun, andfollowing the course of the river beyond the bluff, I was not longbefore I heard a familiar noise, and creeping forward in the grey dawn,I was soon crouching behind the low growth by a wide pool of the river,where quite a flock of ducks were disporting themselves, preening theirfeathers, diving, making the bright drops run over their backs likepearls, and ending by flapping and beating the water heavily with theirwings, exactly as I had seen them perform in the pond at home.
I waited my opportunity, lying flat now on my chest, and at last, afternearly firing three or four times and always waiting for a betterchance, I drew trigger upon a knot of the ducks after getting severalwell in a line. There was a deafening report, a sensation as if myshoulder was broken, and a thick film of smoke hid everything from mysight. But as the shot went echoing along the side of the forest, Icould hear the whistling and whirring of wings where the ducks flappedalong the water, rose, and swept away over the trees. Then the smokerose, and to my great delight there lay five of the unfortunate ducks;three perfectly still, and floating slowly to the shallow below thepool, the other two flapping wildly and trying to reach the farthershore.
To get the three was easy. I had but to wait and then wade in over theshallow to where I could see the sandy and pebbly bottom quite plain.To get the wounded ducks meant a swim, and perhaps a long hunt.
"Better shoot at them again," I thought, when I shuddered, for somethingdark appeared behind one; there was a snap, and it disappeared, whilealmost at the same moment the other, which must have been nearly twentyyards away, was suddenly struck down beneath the water by somethingwhich puzzled me at first, but which the next minute I knew to be analligator's tail.
I turned to my three, now well over the shallows, and hesitated as towhether I dared risk going after them, not knowing but that an alligatormight make a rush out of the deep black pool and seize them first, orfailing them perhaps seize me.
But I was hungry too, and leaping in, I secured all three birds aftersplashing through the water a bit, and reached the shore again insafety, but not without many an excited look round at the deep placewhere I knew the monsters were lurking; and as I shook the water from mylegs, and stamped about on the bank, I found myself thinking what a pityit was such a lovely country should be marred by dangerous beasts andhorrible reptiles like the rattlesnakes and alligators.
Then I thought of the ducks, and as I held them all three by theirorange legs, and looked down at their beautifully-coloured plumage, allsoft browns and chestnuts, and with wing-spots of lovely green, andhaving a head of the same colour, my conscience smote me, and I foundmyself wondering what the ducks thought that beautiful morning when theywere having their baths and preening themselves ready for a long flightor a good swim. And I seemed to see them all again playing about, andpassing their heads over their backs, and rubbing the points of theirbeaks in the oil-gland to make their plumage keep off the water. Andhow soft and close it was!
"What must they have thought," I said to myself, "about a monster whocame with a horrible, fire-dealing weapon that strikes them down like aflash of lightning? Not much room for me to complain about thealligators!" I exclaimed. "But if I had not killed the ducks theywould have killed all kinds of insects and little fishes, and if theydid not kill the insects and fishes, the insects and fishes would havekilled smaller ones. Everything seems to be killing everything else,and I suppose it's because we are all hungry, as I am now."
I walked sharply back along the river-bank with the sun now well up, andbefore long came in sight of a little cloud of smoke rising softly abovethe trees, and soon after I could hear the crackling of wood, and as Idrew near, there was Pomp dodging about in the smoke, piling up piecesof dried stick, and making a roaring fire.
The sight of this took away all my feelings of compunction, and inimagination I began to see the brown sides of the well-roasted ducks, tosmell their appetising odour, and to taste the juicy, tender bits aboutthe bones.
"I heard you shoot um, Mass' George," cried Pomp, excitedly. "Gotlubbly fire. How many?"
"Three," I said.
"Oh!"
"What's the matter?"
"On'y got flee. Dat two Mass' George, and on'y one for Pomp, an' I sodreffle hungly, I mose eat bit a 'gator."
"There'll be plenty," I said. "I shall only eat one."
"Eh? Mass' George on'y eat one duck-bird?"
"That's all."
"Mass' George sure?"
"Yes. Let's cook them."
"But is Mass' George quite sure?"
"Yes--yes--yes!"
"Oh! Den Mass' George hab dis bewfler one wid um green head. Dat'sbiggess and bess."
"Here, what are you going to do?" I cried, as Pomp suddenly seized thethree ducks and threw them into the fire. "That's not the way to roastducks."
"Pomp know dat, Mass' George," cried the boy, poking the birds aboutwith a long, sharp-pointed stick, one of several which he had cut ready."Pomp fader show um how to do ober dah."
"Ober dah" evidently meant Africa.
"Dat a way to get all de fedder off fuss. Dah, see dat?" he cried, ashe turned one out scorched brown. "Now Mass' George see."
As I watched him, he cleverly ran his sharp-pointed stick through thisfirst duck, stuck the point down into the sand, so that the bird wasclose in to the glowing embers, and then deftly served the others thesame.
"Mass' George shoot um duck, Pomp cook um; same Pomp cook and make decake at home. Pomp fader nebber cook. Pomp cook de fis, and de yam,and make um hominy. Pomp berry clebber 'deed, Mass' George. Ah, youtry burn you 'tick an' tummle in de fire, would you, sah? No, youdon't! You 'top dah an' get rock nice for Mass' George."
As he spoke he made a snatch at one of the sticks, and turned the bird,as he stuck it afresh in the sand, closer to the glowing embers, for theflame and smoke had nearly gone now, and the ducks were sputtering,browning, and beginning to give forth a tempting odour.
As the boy was evidently, as he modestly said, so "clebber," I did notinterfere, but took off my shoes and stockings, wrung the latter wellout, and laid them and the shoes in the warm glow to dry, a littlerubbing about in the hot dry sand from the bluff soon drying my feet.Then I carefully reloaded the gun, in accordance with Morgan'sinstructions, making the ramrod leap well on the powder charge and wad,while Pomp looked on eagerly, his fingers working, his lips moving, andhis eyes seeming to devour everything that was done.
"Pomp load um gun," he said all at once.
"You go on with your cooking," I replied; "that one's `burning um'tick.'"
Pomp darted at the wooden spit, and drawing it out replaced it in abetter position.
"Dat duck lil rarksle," he said, showing his teeth. "Dat free time tryto burn um 'tick and tummle in de fire, rock umself. Dah, you 'tan'till, will you? Oh, I say, Mass' George, done um 'mell good?"
"Yes; they begin to smell nice."
"Dat de one hab green head. He berry juicy 'deed; dat one for Mass'George. What Mass' George going to do?"
"Put the gun and powder and shot farther away from the fire."
"What for?"
"A spark might set the powder off."
"Oh!" ejaculated Pomp. Then, "What powder do if 'park s
end um off?"
"Blow the fire out and send the ducks into the river."
"What? An' de 'gator get um? Pomp not cook de duck for 'gator. 'Gatoreat de duck raw, and no pick um fedder. Take de gun away."
I was already doing so, and standing it up behind us against a patch oflow bushes, I hung the powder and shot pouches by their straps to theiron ramrod. Then going back to my place I sat watching the cooking, asthe boy turned and re-turned the birds, which grew browner and moreappetising every moment.
There were faults in that cooking, no doubt. There was neither platenor dish, no bread, no salt or pepper, and no table-cloth. But therewas something else--young, healthy appetite, as we sat at last in thebright morning sunshine, drawn back now from the fire, Pomp and I, eachwith a roasting-stick in one hand, his knife in the other, cutting offthe juicy brown bits, and eating them with the greatest of gusto, afteran incision had been made, and the whole of the hardened interior hadbeen allowed to fall out into the fire.
We hardly spoke, but went on eating, Pomp watching me and cutting thebird exactly as I did mine; then picking each bone as it was detachedfrom the stick, and so on and on, till we had each finished his duck.Our hands were not very clean, and we had no table napkins for our lips;but as we ate that meal, I can safely say for myself that it was themost delicious repast I ever had.
Then we sat perfectly still, after throwing our sticks into the remainsof the fire, reduced now to a few glowing embers.
But there is one thing more of which I must speak, that is the thirdduck, which, certainly the best cooked and least burned of the three,had been served to table; that is to say, its burnt stick had been stuckin the sand between us, and there it was, nicely cooling down, andlooking tempting in the extreme.
Pomp looked at me, and I looked at Pomp.
"I dreffle glad we come an' 'top out all night," he said, showing hiswhite teeth. "Mass' George, go an' shoot more duck, an' Pomp cook um."
"We haven't finished that one," I said.
"No, Mass' George, no hab finish dat oder duck."
"Well, go on; I've had quite enough."
"Pomp had quite nuff too."
"Then we'll wrap it up in the napkin, and we'll eat it by and by forlunch."
"Yes; wrap um up an' eat um bime by."
I drew out the napkin, and Pomp shot the duck off the wooden spit on tothe cloth, which, with due care to avoid the addition of sand, wasfolded up, and then I said--
"Now, Pomp, we must find the boat as we go back."
"Mass' George go back?" he said.
"Yes, of course; and get there as soon as we can."
"Yes, Mass' George," he said, sadly. "Pomp wouldn't mind 'top if Mass'George say 'top here."
"We'll come again," I said, laughing. "Let's find the boat if we can,but we must make haste back."
"Hi! Ohey!" he shouted.
"What's the matter?" I said.
"Wha dat all gun?"
Mass' George: A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah Page 26
