THE PAWPAWS.
Three more torches of palmetto leaves were quickly made, lighted up,
and, with extra handfuls of the green leaves, our party advanced
towards the tree where they had first seen the bear. They were met by
a buzzing horde of the workers who swarmed out to defend their homes,
but these were soon silenced by the pungent smoke of the torches and
our hunters soon stood by the tree where bruin had met his Waterloo.
A few feet from the ground was a massive limb and a little above it was
a cavity in the trunk itself, around which more bees buzzed
industriously. A few waves of the smoke torches quieted these, and
Charley swung himself up on the limb beside the hole. A little more
smoke completed the job and with his hunting-knife he dug out great
squares of the clear, dripping comb, which he passed down to his
companions who had stripped off a slab of hickory bark for its
reception.
"That is more than we can eat," he at last declared, slipping to the
ground, "besides I've got a 'hunch' that Chris has got that bear meat
ready for us and I am hungry as a wolf."
"It may be cooked all right but it will still be too tough to eat,"
mourned Walter.
"Don't you believe it," chuckled Charley, "those bear steaks are going
to be as tender as chicken. If you will not give me away to Chris, I
will show you the reason why."
The captain and Walter eagerly gave the promise of secrecy.
"See that shrub?" said the instructor, pointing to a banana-like stalk
of a tree-like shrub without branches, but from which protruded large,
round glossy leaves with short stems. Close to its trunk near the
crown hung a close cluster of golden fruit about the size of an apple.
Walter plucked one of the ripe fruit and bit into it hungrily, but spat
out the mouthful in disgust.
"You have to acquire a taste for it, the same as you have to for turtle
eggs, olives, and a dozen other things that taste unpleasant at first,"
Charley said. "You'll find that little tree scattered all over Florida
where the soil is at all rich. It is called pawpaw by the natives, who
regard it highly for the sake of its one peculiar virtue. A few drops
of the juice of its ripe fruit spread over a tough Florida steak will
in a few minutes, make it as tender as veal. The same results can be
attained by wrapping the steak in the leaves and letting it lay a
slightly longer time. The best of it is that meat treated in this
manner is not injured in the slightest. In fact it seems to gain in
flavor from the treatment. But there is Chris waving to us. Keep
quiet about the pawpaws. I want to hear his explanation."
They were too hungry to lose any time in obeying Chris' signals. The
little darky had arranged a kind of tablecloth of moss on the ground
and had put upon it slabs of clean cut bark for plates, while upon each
rude plate reposed a thick, juicy, bear steak, done to a turn. The
steak was delicious and tender as chicken and with a taste all its own.
"You're a born cook, Chris," declared Walter, as he paused to take a
full breath. "What makes it so tender, now? that which we cooked was
tough as leather."
"You chillens doan know how to cook like dis nigger," declared the vain
little darky, proudly. "Hit's all in de cookin', Massa Walter, hit's
all in de cookin'."
Charley turned over a morsel of his steak, examined it closely and
sniffed it critically, while Chris watched him with anxious suspicion,
and Walter with mischief dancing in his eyes.
Slowly Charley's eyes took on an absent, far-away look, his arms and
legs seemed to stiffen, and a tremor ran through his limbs. Chris
watched him with distending eyeballs.
"I see," Charley said, in a low, hollow voice, "I see a tree, not a big
tree, but a small one. It has round, green leaves and a cluster of
golden fruit near the top. What is it I see creeping toward the tree,
a monkey? No, not a monkey, though it looks like one. It's a boy, a
small black boy. He nears the tree. He looks around to see if anyone
is watching. He shins up the tree and breaks off several of the
leaves. I see him again near a big fire. He still has the leaves. He
is wrapping them around pieces of meat. As he does it, I can hear him
chuckling to himself. I see----"
"Oh golly, stop him, stop him! He's got de 'haunts'!" cried Chris in
terror, as he grabbed Charley by the shoulder and shook him wildly.
Charley seemed to come to with a start. "Where was I, what was I
saying?" he murmured.
"You was filled wid de haunts," declared Chris solemnly. "You was jes'
tellin' to yourself how dis shiftless, lying nigger got dem pawpaw
leaves to make dis bar meat tender."
Walter and the captain were roaring with laughter, but Chris went on
solemnly with his confession. "Golly, but dis nigger's been a powerful
liar lots ob times, but you doan ketch him at it any more. You sho' is
got de conjerer eye, Massa Charley, else how you know dat lake wid de
crane on it was full of grass like knives, else how you see bees round
dat bear when you is too far off to see 'em, else how you see Chris
getting dem pawpaw leaves when you is clean out ob sight. I guess dis
nigger doan lie any more when you is round, Massa Charley."
"Well, if you are all through, we had better make back for camp for the
sun is getting low," said Charley, hurriedly, to forestall a lecture on
the wickedness of lying, which he saw by the working of the captain's
features, he was preparing to deliver to the little culprit.
Their things were quickly collected together and they were soon headed
back to their point. With the passing of the excitement of the day,
they all began to have vague alarms as to what might have happened
during their absence, and to reproach themselves for leaving the place
so long unguarded.
Their reproaches were wasted, however, for they found everything as
they had left it, save stuck in the bark of a pine tree near the fire,
was the badly scrawled notice. "Don't forget to pull out from these
diggin's afore to-morrow noon."
"They evidently mean business," said Walter, as the hunters stood
together reading the dirty, ill-written paper.
"And I'm not so sure but what we would be wiser if we obeyed their
warning, but I hate to run away from such a crowd," observed Charley
gravely.
"I feel the same way," agreed Walter, "but it would be cowardly to go
now and leave the Seminoles to their fate."
"Aye, aye, lad, truly spoken," said the captain, firmly, "stay we must."
"Golly, I jis guess dis nigger ain't none scairt of their
threatenings," chimed in Chris.
"Well, we seem to be pretty well agreed," Charley said, trying in vain
to shake off the vague feeling of impending evil, that had suddenly
settled over him. "Speaking for myself, I feel too keyed up and
anxious to do anything much until we get this thing over with. I move
we get all our gear into shape and try to plan some way to get the
plume birds hereafter without killing. That will take us until dark, I
guess. Then let's quietly take our blankets and move back into the
forest a ways. Our neighbors may take a notion to pay us a visit
without waiting for to-morrow."
The others readily agreed to this proposal and were soon busy trying to
scheme out some means to take their feathered prey alive.
It was Chris who at last solved the problem.
"You know dat stuff we used puttin' dem boats together?" he demanded.
"A quick drying glue," exclaimed Charley, catching the idea at once.
"Golly, I should say hit was," grinned Chris, "hit dun stick my fingers
together so tight that it peared like I'd never get 'em apart. Now
doan you reckon by spreading hit thick-like on dem limbs whar dem birds
roosts dat hit would hold 'em down till we-alls got ready to pry 'em
off?"
"The lad's got the right idea, I reckon," allowed the captain. "We
could fix the limbs up just before dusk and needn't bother about 'em
any more until it was broad daylight."
The boys were unstinted in their praise of Chris' suggestion until the
little darky forgot the humiliation of the day and was once more his
bright, vain, cheery self.
As night shut down on the point, more wood was heaped upon the fire, a
hasty lunch was made from the remains of dinner, and, taking their guns
and blankets with them, our hunters stole off into the depths of the
wood. They soon reached a little open spot that they had noted during
the day. Their blankets were spread out upon the moss-covered ground
close together so as to be encircled with the hair rope which Charley
had brought to protect them from snakes while sleeping.
Before they wrapped themselves in their blankets, the captain offered
up a fervent, simple prayer of thanks for past protection and a plea
for blessings on the work before them on the morrow.
"How much of that glue stuff is there, Chris?" whispered Walter as they
stretched out to rest.
"'Bout two quarts, I reckon."
"Pshaw, that will not last us any time," said Walter in disappointment.
"It will be all gone in a week."
It was well for the lad's peace of mind that he could not look forward
into the future and see how little of Chris's discovery was destined to
be used.