Part 11 (1/2)

”You chillens doan know how to cook like dis n.i.g.g.e.r,” declared the vain little darky, proudly. ”Hit's all in de cookin', Ma.s.sa Walter, hit's all in de cookin'.”

Charley turned over a morsel of his steak, examined it closely and sniffed it critically, while Chris watched him with anxious suspicion, and Walter with mischief dancing in his eyes.

Slowly Charley's eyes took on an absent, far-away look, his arms and legs seemed to stiffen, and a tremor ran through his limbs. Chris watched him with distending eyeb.a.l.l.s.

”I see,” Charley said, in a low, hollow voice, ”I see a tree, not a big tree, but a small one. It has round, green leaves and a cl.u.s.ter of golden fruit near the top. What is it I see creeping toward the tree, a monkey? No, not a monkey, though it looks like one. It's a boy, a small black boy. He nears the tree. He looks around to see if anyone is watching. He s.h.i.+ns up the tree and breaks off several of the leaves. I see him again near a big fire. He still has the leaves. He is wrapping them around pieces of meat. As he does it, I can hear him chuckling to himself. I see----”

”Oh golly, stop him, stop him! He's got de 'haunts'!” cried Chris in terror, as he grabbed Charley by the shoulder and shook him wildly.

Charley seemed to come to with a start. ”Where was I, what was I saying?” he murmured.

”You was filled wid de haunts,” declared Chris solemnly. ”You was jes'

tellin' to yourself how dis s.h.i.+ftless, lying n.i.g.g.e.r got dem pawpaw leaves to make dis bar meat tender.”

Walter and the captain were roaring with laughter, but Chris went on solemnly with his confession. ”Golly, but dis n.i.g.g.e.r's been a powerful liar lots ob times, but you doan ketch him at it any more. You sho' is got de conjerer eye, Ma.s.sa Charley, else how you know dat lake wid de crane on it was full of gra.s.s like knives, else how you see bees round dat bear when you is too far off to see 'em, else how you see Chris getting dem pawpaw leaves when you is clean out ob sight. I guess dis n.i.g.g.e.r doan lie any more when you is round, Ma.s.sa Charley.”

”Well, if you are all through, we had better make back for camp for the sun is getting low,” said Charley, hurriedly, to forestall a lecture on the wickedness of lying, which he saw by the working of the captain's features, he was preparing to deliver to the little culprit.

Their things were quickly collected together and they were soon headed back to their point. With the pa.s.sing of the excitement of the day, they all began to have vague alarms as to what might have happened during their absence, and to reproach themselves for leaving the place so long unguarded.

Their reproaches were wasted, however, for they found everything as they had left it, save stuck in the bark of a pine tree near the fire, was the badly scrawled notice. ”Don't forget to pull out from these diggin's afore to-morrow noon.”

”They evidently mean business,” said Walter, as the hunters stood together reading the dirty, ill-written paper.

”And I'm not so sure but what we would be wiser if we obeyed their warning, but I hate to run away from such a crowd,” observed Charley gravely.

”I feel the same way,” agreed Walter, ”but it would be cowardly to go now and leave the Seminoles to their fate.”

”Aye, aye, lad, truly spoken,” said the captain, firmly, ”stay we must.”

”Golly, I jis guess dis n.i.g.g.e.r ain't none scairt of their threatenings,” chimed in Chris.

”Well, we seem to be pretty well agreed,” Charley said, trying in vain to shake off the vague feeling of impending evil, that had suddenly settled over him. ”Speaking for myself, I feel too keyed up and anxious to do anything much until we get this thing over with. I move we get all our gear into shape and try to plan some way to get the plume birds hereafter without killing. That will take us until dark, I guess. Then let's quietly take our blankets and move back into the forest a ways. Our neighbors may take a notion to pay us a visit without waiting for to-morrow.”

The others readily agreed to this proposal and were soon busy trying to scheme out some means to take their feathered prey alive.

It was Chris who at last solved the problem.

”You know dat stuff we used puttin' dem boats together?” he demanded.

”A quick drying glue,” exclaimed Charley, catching the idea at once.

”Golly, I should say hit was,” grinned Chris, ”hit dun stick my fingers together so tight that it peared like I'd never get 'em apart. Now doan you reckon by spreading hit thick-like on dem limbs whar dem birds roosts dat hit would hold 'em down till we-alls got ready to pry 'em off?”

”The lad's got the right idea, I reckon,” allowed the captain. ”We could fix the limbs up just before dusk and needn't bother about 'em any more until it was broad daylight.”

The boys were unstinted in their praise of Chris' suggestion until the little darky forgot the humiliation of the day and was once more his bright, vain, cheery self.

As night shut down on the point, more wood was heaped upon the fire, a hasty lunch was made from the remains of dinner, and, taking their guns and blankets with them, our hunters stole off into the depths of the wood. They soon reached a little open spot that they had noted during the day. Their blankets were spread out upon the moss-covered ground close together so as to be encircled with the hair rope which Charley had brought to protect them from snakes while sleeping.