Part 30 (2/2)

On entering the hut, Gerald had taken his seat at the opposite corner of the fire, yet in such a manner as to admit of his features being shaded by the projection of the chimney. The customs of the wilderness moreover rendering it neither offensive, nor even worthy of remark, that he should retain his hat, he had, as in the first instance, drawn it as much over his eyes as he conceived suited to his purpose of concealment, without exciting a suspicion of his design; and, as the alteration in his dress was calculated to deceive into a belief of his being an American, he had been enabled to observe the settler without much fear of recognition in return. A great change had taken place in the manner of Desborough.

Ferocious he still was, but it was a ferocity, wholly unmixed with the cunning of his former years, that he now exhibited. He had evidently suffered much, and there was a stamp of thought on the heavy countenance that Gerald had never remarked there before. There was also this anomaly in the man, that while ten years appeared to have been added to his age--his strength was increased in the same proportion--a change that made itself evident by the att.i.tude in which he stood.

”Why now I take it you must be jesting” at length exclaimed the Aid-de-Camp doubtingly, dropping at the same time the chair upon the floor, yet keeping it before him as though not quite safe in the presence of this self-confessed anthropophagos; ”you surely don't mean to say you kill and pickle every unfortunate traveller that comes by here. If so I most apprehend you in the name of the United States Government.”

”I rather calculate not Mister,” sneered the settler.

”Besides I don't eat the United States subjects; consequently they've no claim to interfere.”

”Who the devil do you eat then,” asked Jackson, gathering courage with his curiosity, and advancing a pace or two nearer the fire, ”or is it all a hum?”

The settler approached the fire, stooped a little, and applying his shoulder to the top of the opening, thrust his right hand and arm up the chimney.

”I reckon that's no hum,” he said, producing and throwing upon the table a piece of dark dry flesh, that resembled in appearance the upper part of a human arm. ”If you're fond of a relish,” he pursued with a fierce laugh; ”you'll find that mighty well suited to the palate--quite as sweet as a bit of smok'd venison.”

”Why you don't really mean to say that's part of a man?”

demanded Jackson, advancing cautiously to the table, and turning over the shrivelled ma.s.s with the point of his dagger. ”Why, I declare, its just the color of my dried beef.”

”But I do though--and what's more, of my own killin' and dryin'. Purty naturist you must be not to see that's off an Ingin's arm.”

”Oh an Ingin's only, is it?” returned the Aid-de-Camp, whose apprehension began rapidly to subside, now that he had obtained the conviction that it was not the flesh of a white man. ”Well, I'm sure! who'd have thought it. I take it, old c.o.c.k, you've been in the wars as well as myself.”

”A little or so I reckon, and I expect to be in them agin shortly--as soon as my stock of food's out. I've only a thigh bone to pick after this, and then I'm off. But why don't you take your seat at the fire. There's nothin' so out of the way in the sight of a naked arm, is there? I reckon if you're a soger, you must have seen many a one lopped off in the wars.”

”Yes, friend,” said Jackson, altering the position of the table and placing it between the settler and himself; ”a good many lopped off, as you say, and in a devil of a stew, but not exactly eaten. However be so good as to return this to the chimney, and when I've eaten something from my bag I'll listen to what you have to say about it.”

”Jist so, and go without my own supper I suppose, to please you. But tarnation, while you're eatin' a bit of your hung beef I'll try a snack of mine.”

So saying he deliberately took from the table the dried arm he had previously flung there, and, removing a large clasp knife from a pocket beneath his coa.r.s.e hunting frock, proceeded to help himself to several thin slices, corresponding precisely in appearance with those which the Aid-de-Camp divided in the same manner.

Jackson had managed to swallow three or four pieces of his favorite hung beef with all the avidity of an appet.i.te, rendered keen by the absence of every other stimulant than hunger; but no sooner did he perceive his host fastening with a degree of fury on his unnatural food, than, sick and full of loathing, his stomach rejected further aliment, and he was compelled to desist. During all this time Grantham, who, although he had a.s.sumed the manner and att.i.tude of a sleeping man, was a watchful observer of all that pa.s.sed, neither moved nor uttered a syllable, except on one occasion to put away from him the food Jackson had offered.

”Sorry to see your ride has given you so poor an appet.i.te,”

said the settler, with a look expressive of the savage delight he felt in annoying his visitor. ”I reckon that's rather unsavory stuff you've got there, that you can't eat it without bread. I say young man”--addressing Grantham, ”can't you find no appet.i.te neither, that you sit there snorin', as if you never meant to wake agin.”

Gerald's head sunk lower on his chest, and his affectation of slumber became more profound.

”Try a drop of this,” said Jackson, offering his canteen, after having drank himself, and with a view to distract attention from his companion. ”You seem to have no liquor in the house, and I take it you require something hot as h-ll, and strong as d--n----n, after that ogre like repast of yours.”

The settler seized the can, and raised it to his lips.

It contained some of the fiery whiskey we have already described as the common beverage in most parts of America.

This, all powerful as it was, he drained off as though it had been water, and with the greedy avidity of one who finds himself suddenly restored to the possession of a favorite and long absent drink.

”Hollo, my friend,” exclaimed the angry Aid-de-Camp, who had watched the rapid disappearance of his ”travellers best companion,” as he quaintly enough termed it, down the capacious gullet of the settler--and s.n.a.t.c.hing at the same moment the nearly emptied canteen from his hands.

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