I lost no time in dressing after opening my window wide, there being no
fear now of Pomp getting at me to have his revenge while I was asleep
for the tricks I had played upon him.
The boy thrust in his legs with an easy motion, as soon as the window
was thrown open, raising himself and dropping gently into a sitting
position to watch me wash and dress.
"Well, why are you looking on in that contemptuous way?" I said at
last, as I noted the play of his face.
"Dat not temshus, Mass' George," he said. "I only sit and fink what
long time you are wash and dress."
"That's not long," I said; "why, how long are you?"
"No time, Mass' George. I go bed like am now, and get up like am now,
and come on."
"But do you mean to say you haven't washed this morning?"
"How I 'top go to ribber an' wash, when Mass' George wait to be called?
Hab good 'wim when we get to ribber."
I finished dressing, and took Pomp into Sarah's kitchen, where we both
made a hearty meal, which was interrupted by Pomp insisting upon having
the shot and powder pouches buckled on him at once, so that he might
make sure of them, and not be defrauded of the honour of carrying them
by any tricks on my part.
He did not look so pleased at having to carry the wallet which had been
well stored ready for our use, but he submitted to have the strap thrown
over his head, and passed one arm through. Then full of eagerness I
shouldered the gun, and we started off into the forest, passing the
clearing where the rattlesnake had been killed, and next passing on to
the little river, up whose course we were to make our way, keeping a
good look-out for the boat the while.
The morning was glorious, the sun piercing the low-lying mist, which
rapidly grew more transparent, broke up, and seemed to dissolve away.
The birds were piping and screaming in the trees, and as we reached the
river, where all was light and sunshine, we started first a great white
crane, which rose from the shallows and flew off, then a kingfisher with
dazzling coat, and soon after came in sight of a little flock of
rosy-winged flamingoes, with their curious, long, snaky, writhing necks,
and quaintly-shaped bills, which always looked to me as if they were
made to use upside down.
"Well, I nebber see!" cried Pomp at last, after stepping back, and
preserving the most profound silence time after time.
"What's the matter?"
"Why Mass' George no shoot?"
"Because we don't want the birds. You don't care to have to carry them,
do you?"
"No; dis wallet um so dreffle heabby."
We tramped on a little farther, now in the deep shade, now in the golden
sunshine when we could get close to the stream, and then Pomp sighed.
"Mass' George like to carry de walletum now?"
"No; I'm carrying the gun."
"Pomp carry de gun."
"Oh, no," I said, "I'll manage that;" and we went slowly on again.
There was no track, and near the river where the light and sunshine
played there was plenty of thick undergrowth, while a short distance
back in the forest the walking was easy among the trees, where scarcely
anything clothed the ground in the deep shadow.
Pomp kept trudging away toward the dark, shadowy forest, and I had to
stop him again and again, for the boat was not likely to be in there.
On the last occasion he said--
"Walletum dreffle heabby, Mass' George. Don't think better carry um
inside?"
"What do you mean?"
"Mass' George eat half, and Pomp eat half. Den we hab nuffum to carry."