Charlie Bell, The Waif of Elm Island

by Elijah Kellogg

  CHAPTER XII.

  THE MYSTERIOUS PIG.

  It was now the last of March. The fish-hawks and herons beganto return, and the whistlers and sea-ducks to come in on to thefeeding-grounds.

  Charles had business enough. He began to put in practice the lessons hehad learned in the winter, and killed four whistlers out of the firstflock that came. He launched his canoe, and began to catch rock-fish onthe points of the Bull, and a reef that lay about half a mile from theisland; he also carried a lot of baskets over to John and Fred to sell.

  Often in the morning, just as the day was breaking, Ben and Sally wouldbe awakened from sleep by the report of Charlie’s gun, as at that timethe fowl began to come from outside, where they had passed the nightsleeping on the water, to their feeding-grounds round the ledges.

  Old Mr. Smullen’s black and white sow had twelve pigs. Ben heard of it,and determined to have one of them. Charlie heard him talking about itwith Sally. A few days after he went to Sally, and said, “Mother, youknow that money that I got for baskets the other day?”

  “Yes.”

  “I was going to buy some cloth, and have you make me a sail for myboat; but I mean to take the money and buy one of Mr. Smullen’s pigsfor father.”

  “O, Charlie, I never would do that. You know how you have been lookingforward all winter long to having a sail to your boat, and how thatbirch-bark sail plagues you; it is always ripping out, and coming topieces, and you have to keep making it over. Ben can buy the pig wellenough.”

  “But, mother, you know how good father is to me; just as good as hecan be. He often lets me go over and see John, when I know he needs meat home, and got all that powder and shot; and he needs every penny topay for the island, because he has to pay the interest to Mr. Welch,and that, you know, is just the same as paying rent. O, that’s an awfulsound! The rent day is dreadful.”

  “But, Charlie, it isn’t so here, and Mr. Welch is not like yourold-country landlords.”

  “Do let me do it, mother. I have made you a sink, and a press-board,and a rolling-pin, and a great wooden spoon, and a bread-trough; but Ihave never made father anything.”

  “Well, Charlie, you are a good boy, and you may do as you wish.”

  “Mother, you mustn’t tell him. I want to get the pig and put him in thesty before he knows anything about it.”

  “I don’t see how you are going to work to leave the island, and get apig, and he never know it.”

  “O, mother, when a boy gets anything in his head, he is bound to do it,by hook or by crook.”

  That very day, when Ben came in to dinner, he said, “Sally, we oughtto have that pig to eat the milk. It is too bad to throw away all theskim-milk and buttermilk. I guess I must take time and go over to-nightand get him.”

  “I wouldn’t go to-night, Ben; you will be going with a raft next week,and I can save the milk till then.”

  That night, as soon as the rest were asleep, Charles crept down stairsbarefoot, and, sitting down on the door-step, put on his shoes andstockings. He then got into his canoe, and pulled across the waterfor Captain Rhines’s. When he reached the house Tige was lying on thedoor-step; the old dog knew Charlie, and came towards him, stretchinghimself, yawning, and wagging his tail. “Good dog,” said Charlie,patting him on the head. Tige held out his paw to shake hands. Charlieknocked at the door, while the dog stood by him. Captain Rhines put hishead out of the window to inquire who was there.

  “It’s Charlie.”

  “Is anybody sick?”

  “No, sir; but I want to see John.”

  “What do you want of John, this time of night?”

  Charlie told him. The captain called John, and in a few moments theboys were hurrying off for Smullen’s, where they called the old manout of bed, and got the pig, and Charlie was soon on his return to theisland. He put the pig in the pen, and creeping up stairs as still as amouse, got into bed just as the gray light was beginning to break.

  As they were eating breakfast they heard a strange sound.

  “Hark! what noise is that?” said Ben.

  “It sounds like a pig squealing,” said Joe.

  “But we haven’t got any pig.”

  “I guess it’s a fish-hawk,” said Charles, scarcely able to containhimself at beholding the puzzled look of Ben and Joe.

  In a few moments a louder and shriller sound arose. “It’s a pig, as I’ma sinner!” exclaimed Joe. Ben rushed out of doors, following the sound,to the sty, where was a bright little black and white pig, about eightweeks old.

  “O, what a beauty!” cried Charlie; “I am so glad. Where do you supposehe came from, father?”

  “That is what I should like to know.”

  “It came from Uncle Jonathan Smullen’s sow, I know,” said Joe; “forit’s just the color, and about the right age. I don’t believe but hebrought it on, and is round here somewhere now.”

  “He’s too old a man to come on here alone; besides, he never wouldleave the island without first coming to the house to get something towet his whistle.”

  “Didn’t Uncle Isaac,” said Sally, “know that you were going to have apig of Smullen?”

  “Yes; for I sent word to Smullen by him to save me one.”

  “Perhaps he and Uncle Sam have gone over to Smutty Nose, or somewhere,gunning, and brought the pig; they didn’t like to disturb us beforeday, and so put him in the pen.”

  “That’s it, Sally, and they will be here to dinner.”

  Ben looked in vain for Uncle Isaac all that day; no Uncle Isaac came;but he satisfied himself with the idea that he brought the pig.

  The next day, as Ben was sitting after dinner smoking, Charlie camerunning in, crying that the pig had got out, and run into the woods.

  “Then we shall never find him,” said Ben.

  Charlie burst into tears.

  “Don’t cry, Charlie. Which way did he go?”

  “He took right up among the brush and tree-tops, where you cut thetimber. I didn’t see him, but I heard him, and followed the sound.There it is again.”

  The pig was now heard squealing among a great mass of tops of trees;and, as they followed the sound, it grew fainter in the distance, andfinally ceased altogether.

  “Is there no way to get him, father?” said Charlie, with downcastlooks, while the tears stood in his eyes.

  “Perhaps he will come out to-night, and come round the house when hegrows hungry, and all is still. I will set a box-trap, and put somecorn in it, and we can, I think, catch him.”

  While they were talking they heard a squealing in the direction of thesty, and, looking around, saw the pig poking his nose out between thelogs, and squealing for his dinner.

  With a shout of joy, Charlie jumped over the fence, and caught the pigup in his arms, and hugged him, and scratched him. “You pretty littlecreature!” said he, “you shall have some dinner. I thought I had lostyou. But, father, mother, how did he get back into the pen and we neversee him?”

  “He never did get back; he has never been out of it.”

  “Then, what pig was that in the woods?”

  “That’s more than I know, Charles.”

  It was Charlie’s turn to be puzzled now, as well as the rest. Theyexamined the pen all round; there was not a crack large enough to let apig through.

  “I declare,” said Sally, “I’m almost frightened.”

  “I can’t tell what it means,” said Ben; “there’s certainly another pigin the woods.”

  When Ben went to work he told Joe. Joe agreed that it was very strange.About dark they heard it again. That night they set the trap close bythe pig-pen, and put some corn in it. “He will hear the other pig,”said Ben, “and come out after we are all abed, and we shall catch him.”

  Charlie was up by daylight in the morning; the trap was sprung. Hemade sure he had caught the pig. They took the trap over into thepen to let him out. Sally and Joe came out to look. “Father,” criedCharlie, “only see that little rogue of a piggee, he’s lonesome. Onlylo
ok at him, father, smelling round the trap; he thinks he’s going tohave a play-fellow and bedfellow.”

  While Charlie was chattering away, Ben opened the trap. Charlie wasstooping down, with both hands on his knees, looking at the place wherethe trap was to open. Out jumped a raccoon, right in his face, and wentover the side of the pen in an instant. Charlie was so frightened,that, in trying to jump back, he fell on his back, and the pig snortedand ran to his nest. The rest burst into roars of laughter. Joe was sotickled that he lay down on the ground and rolled.

  Charlie got up, looking wild and frightened.

  “What was it, father, a wolf?”

  “No, Charlie, a coon. That was the creature whose tracks you saw in thesnow, and thought they were a little child’s.”

  “I wish I could see it. I was so startled I had no time to look.Couldn’t I set the trap again, and catch him, and keep him, and havehim tame for a pet?”

  “I wouldn’t. You have got a pig, and the little calf that came theother day. He would be apt to kill the chickens, and suck the eggs, andbe a great plague.”

  The next morning was one of those delightful spring mornings, which onewho has witnessed them on the shore can never forget. The trees partlyleaved, were reflected in the glassy water and fish and fowl seemedactuated by an unusual spirit of activity. Ben told Charles it was socalm he wanted him to go over to his father’s, and tell him that hewas going to begin to work on the timber the next day, and to ask hismother if she would let one of the girls come over and keep house alittle while, as Sally wanted to go home and make a visit.

  “Well, Charlie,” said Captain Rhines, “have you come after another pig?”

  “No, sir; we’ve got two pigs now.”

  “Two pigs!”

  “Yes, sir; leastways when we catch one of them.”

  He then told him about the pig in the woods--how they tried to findhim, and set a trap for him, and caught a raccoon.

  “I know who the pig in the woods is,” said John; “it’s Joe Griffin; hecan talk like anybody, or imitate any kind of critter. It’s him, I’llwager my life, and he’s been making fools of the whole of you.”

  “I never knew he could do such things.”

  “But,” said the captain, “Ben and Sally do; and I should have thoughtthey would have taken the hint before this time. Have they found outwhere the other pig came from?”

  “No, sir; they think Uncle Isaac brought him on when he was goinga-gunning.”

  “I tell you what you do, Charlie; the next time you hear the pigsqueal, you set the brush on fire (the fire won’t do any harm this timeof year), and see what comes of it.”

  “That I will, sir; I’ll warm his back for him.”

  “Did Ben say you must come right back?”

  “No, sir; he said it was a good ways for a boy like me to pull, butthat I might stay till afternoon; and, if the wind blew hard, stay tillit was calm.”

  The boys went down to the cave, because Charlie wanted to see Tigecatch sculpins and flounders. Then they sat down under the great willowto talk, and John showed Charles the place where Tige tumbled down thebank when Pete Clash and his crew were beating him.

  “What kind of a time did Fred have on the island?”

  “O, he had a bunkum time. He said he never had so good a time in hislife.”

  “Did he like me?”

  “Yes; he liked you first rate. He said he was so glad you didn’t knowhow to shoot.”

  “What for?”

  “Because, he said, you knew so much more than he did, and could doso many things, that he should have felt as if he was a fool, if hecouldn’t have shown you something.”

  “I can shoot now. I shot a blue-bill, and three old squaws, andhorse-headed coot last week. When I first got up I saw them in themouth of the brook; they were playing and diving. When they would dive,I would run up while they were under water, till I got behind somebushes, and then I crawled up and cut away.”

  “Fred told me about your bedstead,--how handsome it was,--and about thesink; I must come over and see that. I want you to tell me what youtold Fred about the time your father was pressed; won’t you, Charlie?”

  “I will, John, some time when we sleep together. I don’t like to tellyou in the daytime, because it makes me cry, and I don’t like to crybefore folks; but in the night, when we are in bed, I’ll tell you. Iliked Fred very much, and so we all did; you tell him I said so--won’tyou?”

  “Yes; we’ll go over and see him after dinner; by that time the windwill be at the eastward, and you can sail home. Fred has got some tamerabbits.”

  “Where did he get them?”

  “Some of them are young ones the cat caught, and he got them away fromher before she hurt them; and the rest are old ones that he caught in atrap. Are there any rabbits on the island?”

  “No, not one; but there’s raccoons and squirrels. Don’t you think,there ain’t any birds there,--only the sea-fowl. Sometimes wildpigeons, woodpeckers, robins, and blue-jays come on there, but theyfly right off again; I wish they would stay and build nests. We havesuch a sight of birds in Lincolnshire! O, I wish you could hear a larksing! they will start from the ground, and go right up straight in theair, singing all the way; and when you can’t see them you can hear themsing. Why, the swallows build right in the thatch.”

  “Thatch! what is that?”

  “Why, they cover the houses with straw, instead of shingles.”

  “I should think the water would run right through.”

  “It won’t; they’re just as tight as can be.”

  “Can you do it?”

  “Yes; I’ve helped my father mend the thatch a hundred times.”

  “Some time let’s make a little house, just as they do there, and youmake a straw roof.”

  “Well, so we will. They make houses there mostly of stone, and we canget plenty of stones, on the island. They make bee-hives there ofstraw.”

  At dinner-time Captain Rhines said, “Wife, you must tell Ben whetheryou will let him have one of the girls.”

  “Indeed, if you are going on there to work, I’ve a good mind to go,too; I ought to know how to keep house by this time.”

  “You never said a better thing, wife; you know how much Ben thinks ofhis mother; he would be in ‘kingdom come.’”

  “Well, you are going away this winter, and if I thought the girls couldget along--”

  “Get along, mother! we’ll get along first rate,” was the unanimousresponse.

  “But then there’s the soap; I was thinking of making soap this week.”

  This was only adding fuel to the fire. Filled with the idea of makingsoap, the girls were now determined she should go.

  “Why, mother,” said Mary, the eldest, “we can make the soap. I havehelped you make it a great many times, and if there is anything I don’tknow, I can get Mrs. Hadlock to show us. What shall we be good for, ifwe are always tied to your apron-strings, and never try to do anythingfor ourselves?”

  “Sure enough,” said the father; “’twill be a good thing for you andJohn both; you can take care in the house, and he out of doors.”

  “I’ll set up the leach for you,” said John; “and after the soap ismade, if we have good luck, we’ll have a celebration, and make candy.”

  “Come, wife, make up your mind; don’t worry about the children; ifI ain’t afraid to leave the farm to John, I’m sure you needn’t beafraid to leave the house to the girls. I’ve no idea of doing with ourJohn as old Peter ---- did with his boy Jim. He never learnt Jim todo anything, or contrive anything, for himself, from the time he washatched. ‘James,’ the old man would say in the morning, ‘do you go intothe barn-yard, and look in the north-east corner, and you will find ahoe; take that hoe, and go down to the western field, and begin to hoeon the acre piece, and stick two punkin seeds in every other hill.’After the old man died, Jim was good for nothing, because he never knewwhere to find the hoe; lost his land, and is now working out at day’swork, and is as poor as Lazarus.�
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  Mrs. Rhines was not at all convinced that she was of such littleconsequence in the household, and that affairs could proceed so easilywithout her.

  “There is that quilt,” she said, “that I meant to have had put into theframes next week.”

  This ill-judged speech only made her absence more desirable.

  “O, mother!” was the unanimous cry, “we can quilt the quilt.”

  “There, girls, hold your tongues; you know you can do no such thing.”

  “Yes, mother, we can; because we can get Hannah Murch, Aunt MollyBradish, and Sukey Griffin, and do it first-rate.”

  “I want the fun of quilting it myself. Well, I will go; the quilt canstand till I get back. Charlie, you tell Ben I’m coming to keep housefor him, but he must come after me himself, in his great canoe; I’ma scareful creature by water; I ain’t a bit like Mrs. Hadlock orSally--willing to go any where in a clam-shell.”

  The next morning Ben took Sally to the main land, and brought hismother on to the island. It was a great gratification to Ben to havehis father and mother on the island, in his own home; and the hours ofrelaxation from labor were seasons of heartfelt enjoyment.

  Charlie lost no time putting into execution Captain Rhines’s directionsin respect to the pig, having first enjoined upon them the greatestsecrecy, not even permitting them to tell Ben and Sally of his plotsand suspicions, lest Joe, who was very quick of perception, shoulddivine what was in store for him.

  In the first place, he made a fire of some old oak and maple stumpsand chips, in a hollow of the ledge, that he might have some brands athand whenever he might want them. A day or two passed away, and nothingwas heard of the pig. The fire smouldered away in the old roots, andCharlie once in the while flung on fresh fuel.

  At length, one day, just after Joe had eaten his dinner, and gone towork, while Ben and the captain sat down to talk a little while withMrs. Rhines, he heard him squealing in the midst of a great mass ofbrush, composed of the tops of several large pines, and branches fromother trees which had been flung upon them, in clearing a road tohaul the logs. The whole mass lay up very high from the ground, andunderneath the pig was running about and squealing for dear life. Thebrush, which had been cut the year before, was full of pitch, and asapt to catch as tinder. The moment Charlie heard the noise, he ranto the place, and began to call, “Pig, pig;” and piggy replied bysquealing with all his might.

  “Poor piggy, are you hungry? Wait a minute, and I will get you somecorn.”

  He ran to the house and got some corn in a dish, and to the fire for abrand; he called the pig, rattled the corn in the dish with one hand,and with the other lighted the brush in different places, as he walkedaround the heap.

  “Chook, chook,” cried Charlie; squeal, squeal, went the pig.

  The cunning boy had now fired the heap in a dozen places, completelyencircling the pig. A slight breeze now sprang up as the flood tidemade, and in an instant the fire, which had been gradually makingprogress, began to roar and crackle, and soon swept through the brushin a sheet of flame.

  “Jerusalem, what is this!” bellowed a voice, and Joe Griffin leapedout from the midst of the burning pile; the brands rolled off the backof his woollen shirt, which was thoroughly singed, while a fox-skincap he wore was scorched to a crisp, as was his hair; he ran round andround, as though he was mad, blowing his fingers (which where slightlyburned), and slapping them on his thighs, while on his face was amingled expression of pain, arising from the burn, and anger at beingoutwitted.

  “Pig, pig, pig-e-e!” screamed Charlie, rattling the corn, and laughingas though he would split between every word.

  “Shut up, you little brat!” cried Joe, flinging a pitch knot at himwith a good will, that, if he had not dodged, would have broken hishead.

  Roused by the uproar, and smelling the smoke, the whole family ran tosee what was the matter. They could not help laughing to see the figureJoe made dancing about, and blowing his fingers.

  “What is the matter, Joe?” asked Ben.

  “The pig has bit him,” cried Charlie. “O, I wish John was here.”

  Joe ran off to the beach to cool his fingers.

  “What in the world,” said Ben, “is the reason, that when all of us havealways known what a mimic Joe is, that we couldn’t have thought it washim squealing, and making such fools of us. How did you know it washim, Charlie?”

  “John told me; and I don’t believe he’ll try to be pig in the brushagain.”

  “Father,” said Ben, “do you know whether Uncle Isaac has been on any ofthe islands gunning?”

  “No; but I don’t believe he has fired a gun these three weeks; he’sbeen too busy. Why?”

  “Because there’s a pig in the pen that came there we don’t know how;all we know is, that we found him there.”

  “Why,” said Mrs. Rhines, looking up from her work, “Charlie got a pig.”

  Captain Rhines gave his wife a nudge to keep dark, but it was too late.Ben had heard the remark, and insisted upon knowing.

  “Well,” said his mother, “I suppose I am telling tales out of school;but Charlie came to our house in the middle of the night, and calledJohn out of bed, and they took off, as though they were possessed, toJonathan Smullen’s, after a pig.”

  “That was well planned, Charlie,” said Joe; “and I’ll forgive you forsingeing me so.”

  “I should never have thought of setting the brush on fire, Mr.Griffin, if Captain Rhines had not told me to.”

  “We are square now, Joe,” said the captain; “your scorching will do tooffset the fright you gave me, when I thought I had shot Ben, havingput one bullet through the window, and the other into a milk-pan ofeggs, on the dresser.”