PLANS--VISIT TO THE PRAIRIE--DISCOVERIES--SHOE MAKING--WATERFOWL
The severe exercise of the two preceding days was more than Harold's ankle, in its state of partial recovery, could endure without injury. For several days afterwards he was compelled to rest it from all unnecessary labour, and to relieve its pain by frequent and copious applications of cold water.
Sam's wounded limbs were rapidly regaining strength, and he insisted that they were well enough to be used; but Robert refused to indulge him.
"We must risk nothing in the case," said he. "It is so important to have you able to help us build our boat, that I think you had better continue in bed one week too long than leave it one day too soon. You must be content to rest your arm for full five weeks, and your leg for six or seven."
Mary and Frank had listened with deep interest to the account which the boys gave of the old Indian settlement, with its open prairie, vine covered forest, orange grove, and sparkling spring; and begged so earnestly for the privilege of accompanying them on their next visit, that they gave their consent. The only difficulty foreseen in the case, was that of leaving Sam alone; but when this was made known to him, he removed all objection by saying:
"Wuddah gwine hu't me?[#] Jes load one gun, and put um by my side. I take care o' myself."
[#] What is going to hurt me?
The object of their visit was not one of mere enjoyment. They had waited for deliverance until they were convinced that it was vain to rely upon anything except their own exertions. It was now between five and six weeks since they had landed upon the island. There had been some strange fatality attending all the efforts that they were sure had been made on their behalf, and now they must try to help themselves.
The exploration had resulted in the discovery of beautiful timber, of every size, fit for boats, and near the water's edge. They well knew it would be a herculean task for persons of their age and education, and possessed of so few tools, to dig out, from these trees, a boat large enough to carry them all home; but they were compelled to do this, or to remain where they were. Having consulted with Sam, upon whose judgment in matters of work they relied far more than on their own, they resolved to build not one large boat but two of moderate dimensions, which might if necessary be lashed firmly together; and for this purpose to select near the water two cypresses of three feet diameter, which should be felled as soon as possible. Their visit to the prairie was for the purpose of selecting these trees, in the low ground near the river.
The four set out in fine spirits early on the morning of Tuesday, November 30th, and continued their walk direct and without incident to the Indian hut. Notwithstanding the gloomy association of the solitary grave inside the deserted house, Mary and Frank were captivated with the wild beauty of the scene. The soft green grass of the prairie--the magnificent wall of forest trees enclosing the peaceful plain--the peach trees over the hut--the oranges and the limes glancing through their dark green leaves--and the bright bubbling spring that flowed so singularly from its living curb--all combined to enchant them. It was so delightful a contrast to the bare and sterile sand of their present encampment, that they plead at once for a removal there. This, of course, had occurred to the minds of the others also; but there were two serious objections to it. One was that here they would be out of sight of vessels passing at sea; and the other (which they kept to themselves) was that here they should be more in danger from wild beasts. They replied that they also preferred the prairie, but that they could not remove until Sam was better able to travel.
Having enjoyed to their satisfaction the view of the hut and its premises, Harold took Frank, and, followed by Fidelle, went in one direction, while Robert and Mary, with Mum, went in another, to search for trees suitable in size and location for their boats. In the course of an hour they returned, having marked a large number, and at the same time having added to their knowledge of the resources of the island. Harold discovered a fine patch of Coontah or arrowroot, from which a beautiful flour can be manufactured; and hard by a multitude of plants, with soft velvet-like leaves, of three feet diameter, having a large bulbous root resembling a turnip, and which Robert pronounced to be the tanyah, a vegetable whose taste is somewhat like that of a mealy potato. The other company went to the river, where Robert discovered an old boat landing, on one side of which was a large oyster bank, and on the other a deep eddy of the stream, in which trout and other fish were leaping about a fallen tree. Mary's discovery was more pleasant than useful. It was a bed of the fragrant calamus or sweet flag, from which she gathered a handful of roots, and washing them clean, brought them as a present to the others. Frank was quite chagrined to see that he had discovered nothing new or valuable, and he did not recover his equanimity for some minutes. While the seniors lingered cheerfully around the remains of their dinner, discussing the merits of their delightful island and the prospect of their return home, Mary suddenly inquired:
"But where is Frank? I have not seen him for half an hour."
Nor had any one else; for, unsatisfied with only one orange allowed him for dessert, while there were so many on the trees, and secretly hoping to find something valuable to announce, he had quietly slipped away, and had stealthily climbed one of the orange trees, from which he plucked an orange for each of his four pockets, then with Fidelle at his side he had strolled a little farther into the forest, eating as he went.
The boys, startled by Mary's question, sprang instantly to their feet, realizing vividly the danger to which he was exposed from wild beasts, but of which they had said nothing to him or to her. Scarcely, however, had their halloo sounded among the trees, than they saw him and his faithful companion approaching leisurely through the small thicket of wild plums.
"You thoughtless little boy," said Robert, upbraidingly; "why did you go off by yourself in these dangerous woods? Did you not know they are full of bears and panthers?"
"No, I didn't," Frank replied.
"Well, I now tell you that they are," continued Robert, "and that you must never again go there unless one of us is with you. But what took you there this time?"
"Humph," grunted Frank; "don't you suppose I want to find something new and good as well as the rest of you? and I have found it, too."
"Indeed," said Harold; "what is it, Frank?"
"You must all guess," he answered, looking very proud, "all of you guess. What is the best thing in the world?"
"I will say," answered Mary, "that one of the best things in the world is a little boy who always tries to do right."
"But it is no boy," Frank continued; "it is something sweet. Guess the sweetest thing in the world."
"I think," said Robert, inclined to amuse himself, "that the sweetest looking things in the world are those pretty little girls we used to meet on King Street, in Charleston."
"No, no," said Frank; "it is neither boys nor girls, but something to eat. What is the sweetest thing in the world to eat?"
"If we were in town," Harold replied, "I should guess candy and sugar-plums; but, as we are in the wild woods, I guess honey."
"Yes, that's it," said Frank, triumphantly; "I have found a bee-tree."
"And why do you think it is a bee-tree?" asked Mary, incredulously.
"Because I saw the bees," he replied, in confident tones.
"Why, Frank," said Robert, laughing, "the bees you saw may have their hives miles and miles away."
"No, they have not," Frank stoutly maintained. "I have seen them going and coming out of their own hole just as they do at home."
"That sounds very much as if Frank is right, after all," argued Harold; "let us go and see for ourselves. But how came you to find the tree, Frank?"
"While I was eating my orange," he replied, "a bee lit on my hand, and began to suck the juice there. I was not afraid of him, for I knew that he would not sting me if I did not hurt him; and more than that, I always love to look at bees. Well, he sucked till he had got juice enough, then he flew right up into a tree a little way off, and went into a hole. While I was looking at that hole, I saw many other bees going in or coming out; and then I knew that it was a bee-tree, because I had heard Riley talk about them at Bellevue. And, Cousin Harold, did you not put up some brimstone for taking bee-trees?"
"That I did, my dear little cousin," answered Harold, pleased with this unexpected allusion. "I have no doubt, from what you say, that you have found a real bee-tree; and, in that case, you have beat us all. Take us to see it."
They all went in joyous mood, and sure enough there was a good sized tree, with a knot-hole about twenty feet above ground, with plenty of bees passing in and out of it. The smell, too, of honey was decidedly strong, showing that the hive was old and plentifully stored.
It may be as well to state here, as elsewhere, that before many days the tree was felled, and that it supplied them with such an abundance of honey that a portion of it was, at Harold's suggestion, stowed away in skin bags, hair side outward. Some of it was beautifully white and clear. This was kept in the comb. The remainder was strained, and the wax was moulded into large cakes for future use. The bees, poor creatures! were all suffocated with the fumes of burning sulphur thrown into the hollow of the tree before it was opened. A few recovered, and for days hovered around their ruined home, until finally they all perished. It made Frank's kind heart very sad to see them, and several times he was stung while watching their movements and trying to help them.
After spending a delightful day, they returned about sunset to the tent. Sam's white teeth glistened when they approached the door. It had been a lonely day with him, but their return compensated for his solitude.
From this time forth the boys had before their minds a fixed object to be accomplished--the felling of those trees, and converting them into boats. But what should be the plan of their procedure while engaged in the work? They could go every morning, and return every evening--a distance altogether of eight miles; or they could spend several nights in succession at the prairie, leaving Frank and Mary with Sam; or they could remove everything to the place of their labour. As to the first two of these plans, it was so manifestly improper to leave the two younger ones for hours and days together, in a wild country, infested with wild beasts, and unprotected, except by a lame, bedridden negro, who was unable to protect himself, that they did not entertain them for a moment. It was finally resolved to delay their regular operations until the next week, by which time they hoped to be able, partly by water and partly by land, to transport everything, and take up their permanent abode at the prairie.
With this conclusion, they set about those little preparations which they could foresee as being necessary to an undivided use of their time after entering upon their work. Their clothes, and particularly their shoes, began to give signs of decay. Frank's shoes had for some time been gaping incontinently at the toes, looking for all the world, Sam said, as if they were laughing.
Harold, foreseeing the necessity before it occurred, had put some deer-skins in soak, wrapped up in lime made from burnt oyster shells; and after removing the hair loosened by this means, had stretched them in the sun, and softened them by frequent applications of suet. The skins were ready now for use; and as soon as it was determined to delay their visit to the prairie, he brought one of them to the tent, and calling to Frank, said,
"Lend me your foot a minute, Master Frank, and I will give you a pair of moccasins."
"Not the snakes, I hope," replied Frank.
"No, but something of the same name," said Harold; "I am going to turn shoemaker, and make you a pair of Indian shoes. I need a pair myself."
"And so do I--and I!" echoed Robert and Mary.
"Indeed, at this rate," said Harold, "we may as well all turn shoemakers, and fit ourselves out in Indian style."
Harold planted Frank's foot upon the leather, which he drew up close around it, and marked at the heel, toe, and instep. He then cut it according to the measure, and there being but one short seam at the heel, and another from the toe to the instep, the sewing was soon finished. Frank tried it on, and for a first attempt the fit was very good. The fellow to this was barely completed, before two reports of Robert's gun, following in quick succession, came lumbering down the river. Fidelle pricked up her ears, and Harold, recalling vividly the panther scene, gave her the word to "hie on," and seizing his own gun followed rapidly along the shore. He had not proceeded far before a turn in the bluff revealed the figure of Robert, moving about the beach, and throwing at something in the water. He saw, too, that when Fidelle came up, Robert patted her, and pointing to the river, she plunged in and brought out a dark looking object, which she laid on a pile already at his feet. Arriving at the spot, he saw six water-fowl, between the size of a duck and a goose, of a kind entirely new to him, and which Robert assured him were brant.
"O Harold!" Robert exclaimed, "the shore was lined with them. I crept behind the bluff and killed four at my first shot, and three at my second, though one of them fell in the marsh and is lost. A little further up was a large flock of mallards, feeding upon the acorns of the live oak. I could have killed even more of them than of these, but I preferred the brant."
"You startled me," said Harold; "I did not know you had left the tent until I heard your gun, and then fearing you had got into another panther scrape, I dispatched Fidelle to your aid."
"She was exactly what I wanted, though I am thankful to say for a pleasanter purpose. See how fat these birds are!"
They gathered up the game, and returned to the tent. All were rejoiced at the new variety of provisions, for they had begun to weary of the old. The brant proved quite as pleasant as Robert anticipated, and alternated occasionally with wild ducks, constituted for a long time an important addition to their stores.
For two days they were occupied with their new art of shoe making, and so expert did they become, that Harold said he doubted whether old Torgah himself could make much better moccasins than those manufactured by themselves. There was one improvement, however, which they made upon the usual Indian mode--a stout sole, made of several thicknesses of the firmest part of the leather as a defence against thorns and cock-spurs, so abundant in the sandy soil of the coast.