A BOY OF THE SWAMPS
"Well, if this don't beat all creation!" exclaimed Phil, as he
continued to stare at the uninvited passenger on board the Aurora.
"See here, Larry, own up now that you saw him crawl aboard our boat?"
"That's just what I did," chuckled the other, as though he enjoyed the
joke. "If you hark back a bit, perhaps you'll remember my calling out,
just at the time you discovered moving figures through the trees? That
was because I had caught just a glimpse of something, I didn't know
what, slipping under the blankets.
"Now I can understand why you were so nervous, and wanted to hurry
off," said Phil. "You were afraid the fierce colonel would come back,
and search our craft for stowaways."
"Sure I was; I admit it," echoed Larry. "But Phil, you really meant
what you said just now, didn't you--about wanting to shake hands with
the boy who knocked Bob Brashears galley west, you know?"
Phil turned to the sallow-faced, defiant figure that was observing
their every action. The boy looked as though ready to brave them to
their face, if so be they turned out to be new enemies; or even take a
header over the side, should they show signs of wanting to detain him
against his will.
But as soon as he looked into the smiling countenance of Phil he must
have realized that in taking this liberty of boarding the motor boat,
when so hard pressed by his enemies, he had made a lucky move indeed.
For in those friendly eyes he saw genuine warmth.
"Shake hands, won't you, my friend?" said Phil, thrusting out his own
digits in the free and easy fashion customary with boys. "I'm glad you
punched that Bob Brashears. I hope his black eye will hang to him for
a month. And I'd have given a heap to have seen the mill when you
licked him. I'm only surprised he dared tackle you alone, big cub that
he is."
"Huh!" the boy broke out with, as a glimmer of a smile appeared
flickering athwart his thin, serious looking face; "they was two of
'em, mister. But t'other, he run like a scart rabbit the first crack
he got under his ear."
Then Larry insisted on also squeezing his hand warmly.
"When I heard that man say they were chasing a boy," he remarked, "I
knew what it was I'd seen scramble under the blankets; and I made up my
mind that they wasn't going to get you, if we had to fight for it.
Just to think of seven hulking men after one small boy. But we're too
far away now for any of them to get you; and perhaps you'd like to stay
aboard till we reach your home below; because we expect to pass all the
way to the gulf, you see. He'd be welcome, wouldn't he, Phil?"
"Sure he would," affirmed the other, heartily, as he eyed the boy; and
perhaps a dim suspicion that he might find the fugitive valuable as a
guide began to flit through his mind then and there.
"We've got oceans of grub aboard; and perhaps you wouldn't mind helping
out in the cooking line; because, you see, I'm the one in charge of
that part of the game; while Phil, he takes care of the running gear.
Anyhow, no matter, you're welcome to stay with us on the trip. We're
glad to know the fellow who dared lick that big bully of a Bob
Brashears, see?"
The boy let his head drop. Perhaps it was because he did not want to
let these generous fellows see the tear in his eye, and of which he was
possibly ashamed, though without reason.
"Say, that's right kind of you both," he exclaimed presently, when he
could look them in the eyes without winking. "And I'm gwine to say yes
right away. I wanted to stay up here yet a while; but I saw the town
was gettin' too hot foh me; and I made a fix with a friend I got thar,
so's I could know how it all came out. Yep, I'll stick with you, and
be glad in the bargain."
"What might your name be?" asked Larry, frankly.
"Tony," came the immediate answer; but although it might be supposed
that the swamp boy had another name besides, he somehow did not seem to
think it worth while to mention the same--or else had some reason for
keeping it unspoken.
"Well," remarked Phil, who had listened to the way the other spoke with
more or less surprise; "I must say that if you do live in the swamp,
and your folks are a wild lot, according to what these people around
here say, you talk better than any of the boys we've yet run across
since we struck this place. Ten to one you've been to school a time,
Tony?"
The swamp boy smiled, and shook his head in the negative.
"Never seen the inside of a school in my born days till we come up here
a while back, me an' little Madge. But my mother didn't always live in
the swamps. Once she taught school down in Pensacola. Dad met her
when he was ferryin' shingles, an' that's how it came around. She says
as how her children ain't a-goin' to grow up like heathen, if they does
have little but rags to wear. And so she showed me how to read, and
I'm wantin' to get more books. Looky here, this is one I bought since
we kim up the river," and as he spoke he drew out from the inside of
his faded and torn flannel shirt a rather soiled volume.
"Robinson Crusoe!" exclaimed Phil, as he vividly remembered the time
away back when he too had treasured the volume so dear to the heart of
the average boy at a certain age. "Well, Tony, I'm going to make you a
promise, that when I get home again there's going to come down this way
a box of books that will make you happy. Just to think of it, a boy
who longs to know what is going on in this big world, and kept back to
spend his life in a swamp. Why, we've got a few aboard here right now,
that you shall have when we say good-by to you."
Tony hardly knew whether he might be dreaming or hearing a blessed
truth. The look he bent on the kind-hearted Northern lad told how his
soul had been stirred by these totally unexpected acts of friendly
regard.
"That's awful good of you, sah!" he murmured, as his eyes dropped
again--perhaps because he felt them moist once more; and according to a
swamp boy's notions it was a silly thing to give way to weakness like
this.
"But whatever made you come up here, Tony, so far away from your home?"
Larry asked. "You must have known how the people in this town hated
your folks; and that if they found out you came from the McGee
settlement of squatters they'd make it hard for you."
"Yes, I knowed all that," replied the other, slowly; "but you see,
somebody jest had to come along with Madge; an' dad he dassent, 'case
they had it in foh him."
"Madge--that means your little sister, doesn't it, Tony?" queried Larry.
"Yep. She's jest so high, an' she's been blind a long time. Last year
a gent from the No'th that called hisself a professor, happened to git
lost in the swamps, and some of our folks they fetched him in. He was
took good care of, an' after a bit was guided out of the swamps. He
seen Madge, an' he told dad an' mam that if only she could be treated
by a friend o' his'n, who was a very great eye doctor up No'th, he
believed Madge, she'd git her sight back ag'in."
Phil started, and looked more closely at the boy as he heard this; but
he did not say anything, leaving it to his chum to learn all there was
to know about the mission of Tony from the swamps, to the town of those
who hated his clan so bitterly.
"And you brought your little blind sister all the way up here, did
you?" asked Larry, with a ring of real sympathy in his cheery voice.
"Sho! that want nawthin' much," declared the other, scornfully. "I had
a little dugout, which I paddled easy. I spected to stay 'roun' till
the doctor he kim, which was to be at a sartin day; but yuh see they
run me out. But I gotter a chanct to fix it all up. Madge, she's
stoppin' at the cabin o' a man dad used to know. His name is Badger,
an' he's got a boy Tom, jest my age."
"That's nice now," remarked Phil, taking a hand in the talk. "And is
she going to stay there till this Northern eye doctor arrives, to
perform the operation?"
"Yep; but mam guv me the money to let her into the horspittal, so she
c'n stay thar, and be looked arter till she's well. Mam sets a heap of
store by Madge; an' dad too, I reckon. They ain't gwine to sleep much
till they knows whether the operation pans out right or not."
"But how will you know, now that you have been chased out of town?"
asked Larry. "Perhaps this Tom Badger will go down the river to carry
the news?"
"Shucks, no," said the other, with a flash of pride coming over his
thin face; "I fixed that up all right. He's gwine to send a message to
weuns just as soon as he knows what's what; and we'll git the news sure
inside o' a few hours."
"But say, you don't mean to tell me there's a telegraph station in the
swamps?" ejaculated the astonished Larry.
"Nope," replied Tony, instantly. "Jest a pigeon. Tom, he knows how to
write, and he's gwine to tuck a little letter under the wing o' the
bird I fetched up."
"A carrier pigeon, you mean!" cried Larry. "Why, how fine you planned
it, Tony. Just to think of it, having the news flashed straight home,
over miles and miles of swamps. But what if a hawk got your bird, what
then?"
"I tuck up three of 'em, so's to make sure," Tony made answer. "He
promised to set 'em all free one after t'other, and each carryin' the
news. So you see, sah, one of 'em's jest bound to sure git home."
"But see here, where under the sun did you ever get carrier pigeons?
That's the last thing I'd expect to find away down in the Florida
swamps," Phil asked.
"A man in Pensacola, as knowed my mam afore she married dad, sent a
pair home to her last time they took shingles down thar, which was a
year back. I made a coop foh the birds an' they hatched out a heap o'
young uns. These hyah three is the pick o' the flock; an' I sure has
hopes o' seein' one of 'em right soon after Tom he starts 'em loose."
"Well, you've interested me a heap," declared Larry. "Why, it's just
like a story, you see. The good doctor comes, restores the sight to
your sweet little sister's eyes; and then the glorious news is flashed
home by a dove of peace and good tidings. Of course it'll be good
news, Tony. Didn't the dove bring that kind back to old Noah in the
ark? I'm awful glad you just happened to hit our boat when you wanted
some place to hide. Why, I wouldn't have missed meeting you for a
whole lot. Have you had anything to eat this morning, Tony?"
When he learned that their guest was really hungry, Larry immediately
started to get something going. He drew out a little square black tin
box; this, on being opened disclosed a brass contrivance which turned
out to be a German Jewel kerosene gas stove. This was quickly started,
and began a cheery song, as though inviting a kettle to accept of its
genial warmth.
Evidently the swamp boy had never in all his life seen anything like
this, to judge from the way he gazed. Nor had he ever scented coffee
that had the aroma such as was soon filling the air about them; for he
could not help sniffing eagerly every little while, to the secret
amusement of Larry.
All this while the boat had been speeding down the narrow but deep
stream. Phil could look after the wheel and the engine at the same
time; though as a rule he depended on his chum to stand in the bow, and
warn him of any floating log or snag, such as might play the mischief
with the cedar sheathing of the modern motor boat.
When Larry announced that lunch was ready Phil slowed down, and
presently came alongside the bank, at a place where a cable could be
warped around a convenient tree. For, since they were in no particular
hurry, they did not feel that it was necessary to keep on the move
while eating.
Larry had heated up a mess of Boston baked beans. Besides this they
had some soda biscuits which had been purchased from a woman in the
town; some cheese; and a can of sardines; the whole to be topped off
with a dish of prunes, cooked on the preceding evening, and only partly
eaten.
When Tony received his share he ate ravenously. Perhaps the boy had
seldom tasted such a fine variety of food, for the canned stuffs likely
to reach these squatters of the big cypress swamps were apt to be of
the cheapest variety.
They were sitting thus as the lunch drew near its conclusion when, in
addressing his chum in some laughing way, Larry happened to mention his
name in full.
The effect upon Tony was singular. He started as though he had been
shot, and immediately stared at Phil; while a troubled look came over
his sallow face; just as though he had recognized a name that was being
held up to derision and execration down in the settlement of the McGee
squatters!