CHRISTMAS MORNING--VOYAGE--VALUABLE DISCOVERY--HOSTILE
INVASION--ROBBERY--MASTERLY RETREAT--BATTLE AT LAST--A QUARREL REQUIRES
TWO QUARRELLERS--THE GHOST’S VISIT
There may have been many a more noisy Christmas, but never a brighter
one, and few merrier, than that which dawned upon our young marooners;
nor was it entirely without its noise. The boys had requested Sam, in
case he was first awake, to rouse them at the break of day, and he had
promised to do so. A secret whispering had been observed between him
and Frank; and the latter had also begged for a piece of twine, which he
promised to return, but the use of which he refused to tell.
Conjecturing that it was intended for some piece of harmless fun, they
gave it to him, and waited his own time to reveal the purpose.
On going to bed Mary noticed that Frank fidgetted a great deal with his
toes, and seemed to be much tickled with several remarks made by
himself, but which seemed to her to have nothing in them particularly
witty. He was evidently in a frolic, and wanted excuses to laugh. In
the dead of night, as Mary supposed, though it was really just before
day, she was awakened by feeling him move restlessly, and then put his
hands to his feet with the inquiry:
"What is the matter with my toe?"
"Is there anything the matter with it!" she drowsily asked.
"O, no, nothing at all," he replied. "I dreamed that a rat was gnawing
it off. But it is only a string I tied there myself."
He then turned over, and lay still, pretending to be asleep; but when he
heard her breathe hard, he slipped out of bed, put on his clothes, and
went softly out of the tent. Sam had agreed to wake him, so that they
two might, according to Christmas custom, "catch" the others, by hailing
them first; and as Sam could not go into the room where Mary slept, he
persuaded Frank to tie a string to one of his toes, and to pass the
other end outside of the tent. It was Sam’s pulling at this string that
gave Frank his dream, and finally waked him. For a minute or two they
whispered together in merry mood, and on Sam’s saying, "Now, Mas Frank,
now!" the roar of two guns, and then the sound of a conch, broke upon
the ears of the startled sleepers.
"Good morning, lazy folks!" said Frank, bursting into the tent. "Merry
Christmas to you all!"
"Merry Christmas, Mas Robbut!" Sam echoed from behind, "Merry Christmas,
Mas Harrol! Merry Christmas, little Missus!"
"Fairly caught!" answered Robert; "and now, I suppose, we must look out
some presents for you both."
The company completed their toilet, and came together under the awning,
which was still their kitchen. The day star was "flaming" gloriously,
and the approach of day was marked by a hazy belt of light above the
eastern horizon. They kindled their fire, and prepared for breakfast,
with many jests and kind expressions; then sobering themselves to a
becoming gravity, they sat around the red blaze, and engaged in their
usual morning worship.
While the sun threw his first slanting beams across the island, Harold
went to the landing, and returned, saying, "Come all. The tide has been
going down for hours, and is now running like a mill-tail!"
Hastening their preparations, they were in a short time seated upon the
raft, Sam at the helm, and Robert and Harold by turn at the oars. Borne
by the current, and impelled by their own efforts, they were not two
hours in reaching the proposed landing place.
[Illustration: They were not two hours in reaching the proposed landing
place]
The river was exceedingly crooked, and so densely bordered with
mangroves, that from the place they left to that which they sought, it
was nowhere possible for them to reach the shore. Once when they
approached nearest land, they saw a herd of deer peep inquisitively at
them through an opening glade, and turn quietly to feed. The tall heron
was a frequent sight, lifting its long blue neck high as their heads,
and then flapping its broad wings to escape too near an approach; and
the dapper kingfisher turning his big head to look at them; and the
"poor jobs," or small white cranes clustering thick upon the dead trees;
and the Spanish curlew sticking forward its long curved bill; and the
grey curlew with its keen note; and the marsh hens, cackling far and
near, to say (such is the report) that the tide is moving; and ducks
rising in clouds from different points of the marsh and reaches of the
river;--these sights were very frequent, and seen with the bright eyes
of young people on a Christmas excursion, imparted a charming vivacity
to the scene.
Passing a creek which drained the marsh to their left, they made a
discovery, which proved a valuable one indeed. Harold was looking up
the creek with that universal scrutiny that had become in him second
nature, when he suddenly dropped his oars, exclaiming, "What is that?"
The raft shot so quickly past that no one but Sam had time to look. He,
however, replied instantly, "Starn ob a vessel!"
"Stern of a vessel, did you say?" inquired Robert. "’Bout ship, Sam.
Come, Harold, let us pull right for it and see."
They brought the raft into an eddy near shore, and though it required a
prodigious pull to propel so clumsy a thing against the tide from the
creek, they managed to do so, and discovered not the stern of a vessel
only, but the whole of a small brig turned bottom upwards, and lying
across the creek jammed in the mud and mangroves.
"Well, that is indeed a Christmas gift worth having," said Robert. "Did
I say Santa Claus never heard of this island? I take that back; he has
not forgotten us."
"He or some One greater," interposed Mary, with seriousness.
They rowed alongside, and tried to enter; but having no tools for
penetrating the vessel’s side, nor candles for lighting them after they
had entered, they concluded to prosecute their voyage, and to delay
their visit to the wreck till Monday.
With this intention they pushed out of the creek, and descended to the
proposed landing, where they made fast their raft to a crooked root, and
stepped upon a firm beach of mixed mud and sand. The fiddlers (a small
variety of crabs that look at a little distance like enormous black
spiders) were scampering in every direction, with their mouths covered
with foam, and their threatening claws raised in self-defence, until
each one dived into its little hole, and peeped slyly at the strange
intruders. A wild cat sat upon a neighbouring tree, watching their
motions with as much composure as if she were a favourite tabby in her
mistress’ parlour. Frank was the first to spy and point it out. It was
within a good rifle shot.
"Stand still a moment, if you wish to see how far a cat can jump," said
Harold.
He rested his rifle upon a small tree, and taking steady aim, sent the
ball, from a distance of seventy yards, through both sides of the cat,
directly behind the shoulders. She leaped an immense distance, and fell
dead. Frank seized it, saying it was _his_ cat, and that he intended to
take off its skin, and make it into a cap like cousin Harold’s.
From the landing they followed the mark left by their hatchet upon the
trees in their exploring tour, and it was not long before they
recognized from a distance the poplar or tulip tree, in the hollow base
of which the bear had made her den.
As yet Mum had given no indications of alarm; but on approaching the
tree the boys selected for Mary and Frank a pretty little oak, with
horizontal branches, in full sight of the den; and having prepared them
a seat made comfortable with moss, and helped them into it, advanced to
the field of battle.
To their disappointment the old bear was gone. The sun shone full into
the hole, and revealed the two cubs alone, nicely rolled up in the
middle of their bed, and soundly asleep. There was some reason to
suppose that the mother would return before they left the neighbourhood,
and in this expectation Harold prepared to secure the cubs. He placed
Robert and Sam as videttes at a little distance, and also charged Mary
and Frank to keep a sharp look out from their elevated position, while
Mum and Fidelle were set to beating the surrounding bushes as scouts.
But, notwithstanding all his care and skill, he found that the work of
capturing the cubs was very difficult. The cavity being too large to
allow of reaching them with his arms, and afraid to trust himself inside
the hole, lest the old bear should arrive and catch him in the act, he
relied upon throwing a slip noose over their heads, or upon their feet;
but young as they were he found them astonishingly expert in warding off
his traps. The only plan by which he at last succeeded, was with a
hooked pole, by which he drew forth first one, and then the other, to
the mouth of the den, where, after sundry bites and scratches, he seized
their hind legs, passed a cord round their necks, and made it secure by
a fast knot. This done, he tied each to a tree, where they growled and
whined loudly for help. The hunters were now in a momentary expectation
of hearing the bushes burst asunder, and seeing the old bear come
roaring upon them; but she was too far distant, and had no suspicion of
the savage robbery that was going on at her quiet home.
It was fully an hour before the cubs were taken and secured. By that
time Mary and Frank had become so weary of their unnatural roosting,
that they begged the others to cease their hunt, and return at once to
the raft. But here arose a new and unforeseen difficulty. The distance
to the raft was considerable, and the way was so tangled that they had
made slow progress when they came; what could they now do, encumbered
with two disorderly captives, and in constant danger of attack from the
fiercest beast of the forest, "a bear robbed of her whelps"? It was
easy enough to decide this question, if they would consent to free the
captives and return as they came. But no one, except Mary and Frank,
entertained this idea for a moment; they would have been ashamed to give
up through fear what they had undertaken through choice.
The plan they at last devised was this--which though appearing to assign
the post of danger to the youngest, was in fact the safest they could
adopt. Mary and Frank led each a cub, but they were instructed to drop
the cord on the first appearance of danger, and run to the safest point.
Sam marched in the van, Harold brought up the rear; Mary and Frank were
in the centre, and while Robert guarded one flank, the dogs were kept as
much as possible on the other. It was with much misgiving that this
plan was adopted, for the boys began to feel that they had engaged in a
foolish scrape, involving a needless exposure of the young people, as
well as of themselves. But they were now _in for it_, and they had no
choice, except to go forward or to give up the project in disgrace.
Formed in retreating column as described, and ready for instant battle,
they turned their faces to the river, and marched with what haste they
could.
They had not gone many steps, however, before Harold suddenly faced
about, levelled his piece, and called to them to "look out!" He heard a
bush move behind him, and supposed, of course, that it was the bear
coming in pursuit, but it proved to be only a bent twig righting itself
to its natural position.
Not long after Robert raised a similar alarm on his side, and levelled
his gun at some unseen object that was moving rapidly through the
bushes. Mary and Frank dropped the cords, and Frank clambered up a
small tree near at hand. Mary turned very pale, and ran first to Sam,
but hearing the noise approach that way, she ran back to Harold for
protection. The next moment she saw Sam drop his gun from its aim, and
call out,
"You Mum! Come in, sah! You git yo’ libber shot out o’ you, you scary
warment!"
The alarm was occasioned by Mum, who, unperceived by any, had wandered
to the wrong side.
The cubs, trained by this time to obey the cord, and either weary with
the walk, or submissive to a fate that seemed so gentle, had not stirred
from the spot where they were left. Frank slipped quietly from his
tree, hoping that nobody had seen him; but Robert caught his eye, and
gave a sly wink, to which Frank doggedly replied,
"I don’t care, sir. I suspect you would like to have been up a tree
too, if you could have got there."
"That I should, Frank," said Robert; "but it seems that you are the only
one of the crowd who can find trees in time when bears are about."
They resumed their march to the landing, and were interrupted only once
more. The bushes before them rustled loudly, Fidelle rushed forward in
pursuit, and the ground shook with the heavy trampling of some large
beast. It was on Sam’s side; but as he brought his piece to a level,
Harold cried, "Deer! deer! don’t shoot!" and again all was quiet.
A short walk brought them to the landing; where they wiped their moist
brows, and rested, thankful that they had completed their perilous
journey without accident. But their dangers were by no means over. The
tide was down; the raft was aground; it was not possible to leave for
hours; and in the meantime the enraged beast might follow the trace of
her cubs, and perhaps assault them where they were. In view of this
contingency they tied the young bears at a distance from the shore, but
within sight of their own place of repose, confident that if the mother
came she would bestow her first care in breaking their bonds, and taking
them away, in which case they could attack and destroy her.
With this expectation they sat down to their Christmas dinner, for which
they had by this time a pretty keen appetite. Sam stood sentry while
they ate; then Robert and Harold by turns took his post, and gave him
opportunity to dine. The spice of danger gave great zest to the
enjoyment of all except Mary, who would vastly have preferred being at
their comparatively secure and quiet home upon the prairie.
The tide finally rose, and floated the raft. They once more embarked.
The young bears were secured, so that they could neither escape nor
annoy. The fastening was cast off. Harold’s oar, which he used as a
pole for shoving off, sunk in the yielding sand, and Robert’s "Heigh ho
for home!" was hardly uttered, when they heard a tramping on the bluff,
and a moment after saw the bear standing on the spot they had left. She
stared in surprise at the retreating raft, whined affectionately to her
cubs, who whined in answer, and tried to break loose; then seeing their
efforts to be ineffectual, and the raft to be moving away, she raised
such a roar as made every heart tremble, and with a fierce look at the
persons on board plunged into the water. The raft was by this time but
ten yards from shore, and slowly "backing" into the stream. Harold’s
rifle was quickly at his shoulder, and in a second more the blood
spouted from the mouth and nose of the terrible beast. But the wound
was not mortal, piercing below the eyes, and entering the nostrils and
throat; and blowing out the blood by successive snorts, she plunged on,
and began to swim.
"Now, Robert!" shouted Harold, "be steady! Aim between her eyes!"
Robert fired first one barrel, and then the other; the bear sunk for a
moment, borne down by the heavy shot, but she rose again, streaming with
gore, and roaring till the waters trembled. Sam’s gun was the only
remaining chance, and he used it most judiciously. Waiting until the
bear was almost ready to place her feet upon the raft, he coolly
levelled his gun, and putting the muzzle within a few inches of her ear,
poured its contents bodily into her brain. The furious creature had
just time to grasp the side of the raft; she gave one convulsive shake,
and turned on her side, stone dead.
"It was a desperate fight," said Robert, drawing a long breath.
"And a very foolish one," rejoined Harold. "I have been thinking for
the last hour that we might have been better employed."
Robert looked displeased. "Answer for yourself. If it is foolish, you
helped to bring it on."
"I know that," replied Harold, with mildness, "and that makes me condemn
it the more."
"Then please, sir, not to blame the rest," said Robert, "for I am sure
everybody behaved as bravely as people could."
"I have not questioned any one’s courage, nor have I quarrelled with any
one except myself," replied Harold.
"Yes, sir, you have," persisted Robert, "you called us all a parcel of
fools for coming on a Christmas excursion."
"O! no, brother," mediated Mary, "he only said we might have been better
employed; and I think father would say so too. I am sure if I had known
all before coming, as I know it now, I should not have given my
consent."
"Please, mossa," said Sam, looking from one to the other, "’tain’t any
o’ you been de fool. Nobody fool but me. Enty I ax you,[#] please come
see my countryman in de hollow tree; and you come? And now, please,
mossa, don’t let my countryman git away. See he floatin’ away to de
alligator. Please let me catch ’em. I want him fat to fry my hominy."
[#] Did not I ask you.
Sam looked so whimsical throughout the whole of this eloquent appeal,
that Robert’s face relaxed from its stern and angry expression, and at
the last words he caught Harold’s eye, and burst into a laugh.
"Come, Harold," said he, "let us save his fat; I know his mouth waters
for it."
The quarrel was over. Indeed it could not properly be called a quarrel,
for it was all on one side, and no one can quarrel alone. They caught
the floating carcass, tied it behind the raft, then pulling into the
current, floated rapidly home, and reached the prairie about the middle
of the afternoon.
For the rest of the day their hands were full; and it was not until late
at night that they were able to retire. The young bears were first
stowed away in the same pen with the goats and deer, but Harold was
scarcely able to remove them in time to save their lives; for Nanny,
after running from them as far as the limits of the pen allowed, rose
upon her hind legs with a desperate baa! and bringing her stony forehead
against the head of the nearest, laid it senseless on the ground, and
was preparing to serve the other in the same way.
What to do with them Harold did not know. He dared not put them in the
poultry house, and he was unwilling either to shelter them in the tent
or to tie them outside the palisade. So, until some other arrangement
could be devised, he fastened them to a stake inside the enclosure round
the tent, where he supplied them with water, honey, and a piece of
venison.
The adventure, however, was not quite over. Late in the night Sam was
awaked by feeling something move upon his bed, and put its cold nose
upon his face. Thinking it was some one walking in his sleep, he called
out, "Who dah?" and putting out his hand, felt to his dismay the rough
head and shaggy skin of a bear. Sam was a firm believer in ghosts, both
human and brute. He gave one groan, and cried out, "O massy!" expecting
the next moment to be overpowered, if not torn to pieces; then jumping
from bed in the greatest hurry, he hunted tremulously for some weapon of
defence, exclaiming all the while,
"Mas Harrol! Mas Robbut! O massy! Here de ole bear, or else he ghost,
come after us."
The taper was brought from Mary’s room, and disclosed the secret. One
of the cubs feeling in the chill, night air the want of its mother’s
warmth, had loosed the insecure fastening, and come to seek more
comfortable quarters in the tent. "It is your countryman’s baby, Sam,"
said Robert, after the excitement had subsided. "You killed its mother,
and it has come, poor little orphan, to ask that you shall be its daddy
now."