WAITING FOR A VISITOR.
During the rest of that day The Rolling Stone had a fair wind, and made
a good trip. An hour after starting she passed the Maggie, which kept
well away on the other side of the river. Evening was coming on, when
Adam ran his boat in at a point he had been very anxious to make. This
was at a solitary little house, at the edge of the woods, inhabited by
a man whom he knew. During his former life on the Indian River, Adam
had made the acquaintance of nearly all the settlers along the shores,
and he was delighted to find that his old friend, Tom Pitman, still
lived at this place.
Pitman was a tall, wiry man, full of action, and very talkative. He had
a small house near the shore, where he lived, with his wife and two
half-grown daughters, and, back in the woods, he had cleared a field,
which he had planted with pine-apples.
Everything about the place seemed neat and in good order. The field
and a small yard in front of the house were well fenced, and there was
a little pier running out into the water, near which a small boat was
moored, while a sail-boat was in course of repair on the beach near by.
Pitman came out of his house as The Rolling Stone sailed up, and gave
Adam and his companions a hearty welcome; but, in spite of his cheerful
manner, Adam noticed that there seemed to be something on his mind. He
was continually looking about him, and seemed to be in a great hurry to
get the party disposed of for the night.
“I suppose we can tie up to your pier, Tom?” said Adam.
“I don’t know about that,” replied Pitman; “not if any of you is goin’
to sleep on board. I’d have you all come up and sleep in the house, but
I haven’t got room enough for four of you. I’ve got a bed, though, that
two of you can have. But them that sleeps on the boat had better anchor
out a good ways from the shore, after we’ve all had our supper, and
it’s dark. You needn’t do no cookin’ for yourselves. You’ve all got to
come in-doors, and eat with us.”
“I suppose we can tie up here till supper is over, can’t we?” asked
Adam.
“Well, no,” said Pitman, a little nervously. “You’d better run her up
on the beach there by my boat, and bring your anchor ashore. It may be
dark afore we’ve done supper.”
“What’s up?” asked Adam. “Anything partic’lar?”
“Well, yes,” said Pitman, lowering his voice. “Is these young friends
o’ yourn scary?”
“Can’t say that they are,” said Adam. “You can tell ’em anything you
can tell me.”
“Well, then,” said Pitman, “I’ll tell just how ’tis. I didn’t want to
frighten these young men, for I s’posed, from their looks, that they’d
come down from the North, and weren’t used to the kind o’ things that
turn up in these wild parts. But if you say go ahead, all right. Last
night a big painter came out o’ the woods, and went out on that pier.
My dog seed him out there, and made for him. I didn’t know anything
about it till I heard the noise o’ the fight, and then I came out with
my gun; but afore I could git here the painter had killed the dog, and
had dragged him a good way up the shore. I got sight o’ him, and blazed
away. I reckon I didn’t hit him, but he just left the dog, and put into
the woods. Painters is cowards when there’s a man about, but they ain’t
afeard o’ no dog. Now, it’s my ’pinion that that beast’ll be back on
that pier to-night, hopin’ he’ll git hold of another dog, and I’m goin’
to watch for him. Now, you can see for yourselves that it wouldn’t be
exactly pleasant to be sleepin’ in a boat at the foot of that pier with
a big painter standin’ and lookin’ down at you, and makin’ up his mind
whether he should go aboard or not.”
“No, indeed!” said Adam; “not even if you were waitin’ with your rifle
ready, Tom.”
“I reckon he’d be worse company,” said Pitman, “after I’d hit him than
before, if I didn’t kill him out and out.”
“If you are going to watch for a panther,” cried Chap, “I’m sure none
of us will want to go to bed, either in the boat or the house. We’ve
got guns along, and why can’t we all have the fun of hunting the beast?”
“It don’t do to have too many for that sort of thing,” said Pitman;
“but if any o’ you want to jine in the sport, I’m willin’. It’ll make
us more certain of gittin’ him. And now let’s go in and have supper
as quick as we can. Then we’ll come out and make things ready for the
varmint.”
It was all very well for Mr. Pitman to talk about having supper soon,
but his wife and two daughters, who had to prepare the meal for four
additional persons, and all of them very hungry, found it no easy
matter to get through with their cooking as rapidly as the head of the
family desired.
It was no use for Mr. Pitman to say that if they didn’t hurry the
painter would come for his supper before they were through with their
own. His wife only answered that she reckoned the painter could wait,
and went on with her frying and stewing.
At last they all sat down to the usual corn-bread, coffee, and fried
ham, with the addition of a great dish of stewed oysters.
The boys had eaten some of the oysters, which are found in vast beds in
parts of the Indian River, but had not found them much to their liking.
They seemed fresher and more insipid than those to which they had been
accustomed. But these were cooked so nicely that they ate them with
great delight, and, altogether, they made the best meal they had had
since leaving home.
Mr. Pitman was very nervous during the meal, and thought his guests
would never be done eating. He did not begrudge them their food, but he
was full of anxiety lest the panther should come and go before they had
made themselves ready to receive his visit.
When Phœnix and Chap had eaten their last mouthful, and Adam had
drained the third cup of coffee, Mr. Pitman put back his chair, and the
party arose. Adam greatly desired to smoke his evening pipe, but to
this his host decidedly objected.
“There won’t be time,” he said, “and besides, the critter might smell
the smoke. Better wait till we’re through with this business, and then
you can smoke all you like.”
Adam good-naturedly assented to this arrangement, and the male members
of the party went outside, while Mrs. Pitman and daughters were
cautioned to keep in the house, and shut the doors and lower windows,
for if the panther should be brought to bay, he might think the house a
good place of refuge.
Mr. Pitman took upon himself the whole plan of arrangement. He first
examined the arms of the party. He himself had a rifle.
One of the guns taken from the Maggie was a breech-loading rifle, and
it was loaded, but there were no extra cartridges to fit it, and only
one shot could be fired from it. This was given to Adam.
The other gun, belonging to the two young men, was a small shot-gun,
one barrel of which had been discharged that morning by Chap. Both
barrels were now loaded with number two shot, but Mr. Pitman declared
the weapon altogether unserviceable for work of the kind expected.
“It won’t carry far enough,” he said, “and the shot will scatter. A
painter wouldn’t take into no account--a gun like that.”
The double-barrelled gun, which had been hired from Mr. Brewer, was
loaded with buckshot, and this, Pitman considered, might be of some
service, and it was given to Phil, as he was the best shot among the
boys.
“As for you two other young men,” said Mr. Pitman, “the best thing you
can do is to get into your boat and anchor her a little way out in the
river. You can see the sport from there as well as anywhere, if you can
see it at all; and if there’s too many folks ashore, I’m afraid the
painter will smell us out, or see somebody; and besides, I wouldn’t
want to have him ranging ’round here, and two young fellows in the
bushes with no way to take care of themselves.”
Chap and Phœnix did not like this plan very much, but they preferred
being in the boat to going into the house and peeping through a crack.
It was lighter on the water than on the land, and Mr. Pitman assured
them that if they kept themselves pretty much out of sight, and quiet,
they could look all they liked, for the panther wouldn’t mind a boat,
for there had been boats around when he came the night before.
So Chap and Phœnix went on board The Rolling Stone, taking the smaller
shot-gun with them, and, pushing out a couple of hundred feet from
shore, anchored and lay down to await events.
Adam and Phil were then placed behind some low-growing bushes a little
distance up the beach; while Mr. Pitman took his position behind the
roots of a fallen palmetto, not far away.
The panther was expected to come from the woods below the house, and
from their places of concealment each of the party could get a good
view of the little pier where the dog had been killed, and which was
still stained with his blood.
The wind was blowing gently from the south, so that if the panther
carried out the plan as Mr. Pitman had arranged it, there would be no
danger of his catching the scent of his concealed enemies.
[Illustration]