"Where are you going now?"
"To tell Pomp to call me, and ask Sarah to prepare a basket of something
to eat."
He nodded and took up a book, while after telling our housekeeper of my
wants, I ran across the clearing to the edge of the forest to call the
boy to get ready.
As I drew near I found Hannibal seated on a stump left by the cutting
down of one of the trees to make room for the new hut, with his chin
resting in his hands.
"Hallo, Han," I said; "anything the matter?"
"No, Mass' George," he said. "I only look up at de 'tars and tink."
"What about?"
"I wonder wedder dey de 'tars I see in my own country."
"Yes," I said; "I do know that. Do you ever want to go back again?"
"Back again, sah?"
"Yes--to your own country."
He shook his head. "No, Mass' George. Too much fight--too much kill--
too much sell for slave; nebber go back again."
"Then you are happy here?"
"Yes, sah. Happy here wif Mass' George and de capen. Can't talk.
Understand?"
"Oh, yes," I said; "I understand. Where's Pomp?"
"Sleep. Dah! I call um."
"No, no; let me," I said, laughing.
I went into the hut, and there on the blanket in a corner, with his
mouth wide open, lay the boy fast asleep.
It was so dark inside that I should not have been able to make him out
but for the gleam of light from the window, which made his teeth just
visible.
I stood looking down at him and listening to his breathing for a few
moments, before slipping out of the hut, taking my knife from my pocket,
and cutting a long twig which I stripped, all but a few leaves at the
end. As I came back, Hannibal rose.
"Don't whip, Mass' George," he said in a pleading whisper, as he laid
his hand upon my arm.
"I was not going to," I said, laughing, "only to tickle him."
I saw the big African's teeth gleam, and I stole back into the hut on
tip-toe, thinking the while how marvellous it was that a great fellow
like the black, who could have almost crushed me with one hand, should
be so patiently submissive, and give up to me as he did.
But that thought passed away as I stood over Pomp and gently tickled him
on one cheek. He moved restlessly, and I tickled the other with the
leaves. He turned back again, and the end of the twig began to play
about his neck. There was a quick rustle, one hand struck at the twig
and Pomp rolled over upon his face. This gave me a good opportunity to
titillate both sides of his neck, and he sprang round again.
"Bodder!" I heard him mutter; but I persevered, making the twig play
well about him.
"Bodder de fly!" he cried, viciously; but the twig tickled away, and
Pomp's eyes were so tightly closed that he contented himself with
twisting and rubbing himself.
"Wait I get up, I mash all de ole fly eberywhere," he muttered.
Tickle--tickle--tickle.
_Slip slap_. Pomp's hands delivered a couple of blows on his bare skin.
Tickle--tickle--tickle.
"You no like me come mash you, eh?"
Tickle--tickle--tickle.
"Yah! You great ugly skeeter, you leave lil nigger go sleep."
"_Buzz_--_buzz_--_hum_." Tickle--tickle--tickle. I made as good an
imitation as I could of a gnat's hum, and kept up the tickling till he
made two or three vicious lounges out at where I stood in the darkness,
and this time he got hold of the twig.
"Eh?" he exclaimed. "Dat not skeeter fly. Dat you, fader? You let lil
nigger go sleep. Keep a 'tick 'till."
"Eh? Who dat? Ah, yah! It you, Mass' George. I know all de time."
"No, you didn't, old sleepy head."
"Eh? Well, what head for at night but sleep um? You want Pomp go after
'coon?"
"No; look here, Pomp; we're to go and try to find the boat in the
morning. Come and call me as soon as it's day."
"Eh? Why not go now, Mass' George?"
"No, no; I want to go and have a good sleep first. Mind, as soon as
it's light; I'll take the gun."
"I call you, Mass' George, widout come an' ticklum wif lil 'tick, ha--
ha--ha! I know."
"Good-night."
"Good-night, Mass' George; I come and climb up your window; and you look
out."
"I will," I said to myself as I went away, said good-night to Hannibal,
and hurried back to bed, but not till I had carefully fastened my window
ajar, so that Pomp could not get it open in the morning. And there I
was, too much excited by the ideas of the trip to get to sleep. For as
I lay there I could picture the little river winding in and out among
the great trees of the primeval forest, and see it here black as night
flowing sluggishly beneath the drooping moss-hung trees, there dancing
in the sunshine that rained down from above, and then on and on in
amongst the mysterious shades where in all probability the foot of man
had never trod.
"Oh," I said to myself at last, as I lay listening to the monotonous
piping insect hum, and the bellowings and croakings from the wood, "how
hot it is! I do wish it was day."
But it seemed that many hours must elapse before day could come, and in
a curious dreamy way I was wandering on and on through the tangled wood
close to the river-bank, when Pomp said in a whisper--
"Hi! Mass' George, you go 'top seep all day?"
I started up to find that I had slept for hours, and light in the shape
of the morning was at the window, in company with darkness in the form
of Pomp's black face.