CHAPTER XIV

WHEN Tom awoke in the morning, he wondered where he was. He sat up and

rubbed his eyes and looked around. Then he comprehended. It was the

cool gray dawn, and there was a delicious sense of repose and peace in

the deep pervading calm and silence of the woods. Not a leaf stirred;

not a sound obtruded upon great Nature's meditation. Beaded dewdrops

stood upon the leaves and grasses. A white layer of ashes covered the

fire, and a thin blue breath of smoke rose straight into the air. Joe

and Huck still slept.

Now, far away in the woods a bird called; another answered; presently

the hammering of a woodpecker was heard. Gradually the cool dim gray of

the morning whitened, and as gradually sounds multiplied and life

manifested itself. The marvel of Nature shaking off sleep and going to

work unfolded itself to the musing boy. A little green worm came

crawling over a dewy leaf, lifting two-thirds of his body into the air

from time to time and "sniffing around," then proceeding again--for he

was measuring, Tom said; and when the worm approached him, of its own

accord, he sat as still as a stone, with his hopes rising and falling,

by turns, as the creature still came toward him or seemed inclined to

go elsewhere; and when at last it considered a painful moment with its

curved body in the air and then came decisively down upon Tom's leg and

began a journey over him, his whole heart was glad--for that meant that

he was going to have a new suit of clothes--without the shadow of a

doubt a gaudy piratical uniform. Now a procession of ants appeared,

from nowhere in particular, and went about their labors; one struggled

manfully by with a dead spider five times as big as itself in its arms,

and lugged it straight up a tree-trunk. A brown spotted lady-bug

climbed the dizzy height of a grass blade, and Tom bent down close to

it and said, "Lady-bug, lady-bug, fly away home, your house is on fire,

your children's alone," and she took wing and went off to see about it

--which did not surprise the boy, for he knew of old that this insect was

credulous about conflagrations, and he had practised upon its

simplicity more than once. A tumblebug came next, heaving sturdily at

its ball, and Tom touched the creature, to see it shut its legs against

its body and pretend to be dead. The birds were fairly rioting by this

time. A catbird, the Northern mocker, lit in a tree over Tom's head,

and trilled out her imitations of her neighbors in a rapture of

enjoyment; then a shrill jay swept down, a flash of blue flame, and

stopped on a twig almost within the boy's reach, cocked his head to one

side and eyed the strangers with a consuming curiosity; a gray squirrel

and a big fellow of the "fox" kind came skurrying along, sitting up at

intervals to inspect and chatter at the boys, for the wild things had

probably never seen a human being before and scarcely knew whether to

be afraid or not. All Nature was wide awake and stirring, now; long

lances of sunlight pierced down through the dense foliage far and near,

and a few butterflies came fluttering upon the scene.

Tom stirred up the other pirates and they all clattered away with a

shout, and in a minute or two were stripped and chasing after and

tumbling over each other in the shallow limpid water of the white

sandbar. They felt no longing for the little village sleeping in the

distance beyond the majestic waste of water. A vagrant current or a

slight rise in the river had carried off their raft, but this only

gratified them, since its going was something like burning the bridge

between them and civilization.

They came back to camp wonderfully refreshed, glad-hearted, and

ravenous; and they soon had the camp-fire blazing up again. Huck found

a spring of clear cold water close by, and the boys made cups of broad

oak or hickory leaves, and felt that water, sweetened with such a

wildwood charm as that, would be a good enough substitute for coffee.

While Joe was slicing bacon for breakfast, Tom and Huck asked him to

hold on a minute; they stepped to a promising nook in the river-bank

and threw in their lines; almost immediately they had reward. Joe had

not had time to get impatient before they were back again with some

handsome bass, a couple of sun-perch and a small catfish--provisions

enough for quite a family. They fried the fish with the bacon, and were

astonished; for no fish had ever seemed so delicious before. They did

not know that the quicker a fresh-water fish is on the fire after he is

caught the better he is; and they reflected little upon what a sauce

open-air sleeping, open-air exercise, bathing, and a large ingredient

of hunger make, too.

They lay around in the shade, after breakfast, while Huck had a smoke,

and then went off through the woods on an exploring expedition. They

tramped gayly along, over decaying logs, through tangled underbrush,

among solemn monarchs of the forest, hung from their crowns to the

ground with a drooping regalia of grape-vines. Now and then they came

upon snug nooks carpeted with grass and jeweled with flowers.

They found plenty of things to be delighted with, but nothing to be

astonished at. They discovered that the island was about three miles

long and a quarter of a mile wide, and that the shore it lay closest to

was only separated from it by a narrow channel hardly two hundred yards

wide. They took a swim about every hour, so it was close upon the

middle of the afternoon when they got back to camp. They were too

hungry to stop to fish, but they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, and

then threw themselves down in the shade to talk. But the talk soon

began to drag, and then died. The stillness, the solemnity that brooded

in the woods, and the sense of loneliness, began to tell upon the

spirits of the boys. They fell to thinking. A sort of undefined longing

crept upon them. This took dim shape, presently--it was budding

homesickness. Even Finn the Red-Handed was dreaming of his doorsteps

and empty hogsheads. But they were all ashamed of their weakness, and

none was brave enough to speak his thought.

For some time, now, the boys had been dully conscious of a peculiar

sound in the distance, just as one sometimes is of the ticking of a

clock which he takes no distinct note of. But now this mysterious sound

became more pronounced, and forced a recognition. The boys started,

glanced at each other, and then each assumed a listening attitude.

There was a long silence, profound and unbroken; then a deep, sullen

boom came floating down out of the distance.

"What is it!" exclaimed Joe, under his breath.

"I wonder," said Tom in a whisper.

"'Tain't thunder," said Huckleberry, in an awed tone, "becuz thunder--"

"Hark!" said Tom. "Listen--don't talk."

They waited a time that seemed an age, and then the same muffled boom

troubled the solemn hush.

"Let's go and see."

They sprang to their feet and hurried to the shore toward the town.

They parted the bushes on the bank and peered out over the water. The

little steam ferryboat was about a mile below the village, drifting

with the current. Her broad deck seemed crowded with people. There were

a great many skiffs rowing about or floating with the stream in the

neighborhood of the ferryboat, but the boys could not determine what

the men in them were doing. Presently a great jet of white smoke burst

from the ferryboat's side, and as it expanded and rose in a lazy cloud,

that same dull throb of sound was borne to the listeners again.

"I know now!" exclaimed Tom; "somebody's drownded!"

"That's it!" said Huck; "they done that last summer, when Bill Turner

got drownded; they shoot a cannon over the water, and that makes him

come up to the top. Yes, and they take loaves of bread and put

quicksilver in 'em and set 'em afloat, and wherever there's anybody

that's drownded, they'll float right there and stop."

"Yes, I've heard about that," said Joe. "I wonder what makes the bread

do that."

"Oh, it ain't the bread, so much," said Tom; "I reckon it's mostly

what they SAY over it before they start it out."

"But they don't say anything over it," said Huck. "I've seen 'em and

they don't."

"Well, that's funny," said Tom. "But maybe they say it to themselves.

Of COURSE they do. Anybody might know that."

The other boys agreed that there was reason in what Tom said, because

an ignorant lump of bread, uninstructed by an incantation, could not be

expected to act very intelligently when set upon an errand of such

gravity.

"By jings, I wish I was over there, now," said Joe.

"I do too" said Huck "I'd give heaps to know who it is."

The boys still listened and watched. Presently a revealing thought

flashed through Tom's mind, and he exclaimed:

"Boys, I know who's drownded--it's us!"

They felt like heroes in an instant. Here was a gorgeous triumph; they

were missed; they were mourned; hearts were breaking on their account;

tears were being shed; accusing memories of unkindness to these poor

lost lads were rising up, and unavailing regrets and remorse were being

indulged; and best of all, the departed were the talk of the whole

town, and the envy of all the boys, as far as this dazzling notoriety

was concerned. This was fine. It was worth while to be a pirate, after

all.

As twilight drew on, the ferryboat went back to her accustomed

business and the skiffs disappeared. The pirates returned to camp. They

were jubilant with vanity over their new grandeur and the illustrious

trouble they were making. They caught fish, cooked supper and ate it,

and then fell to guessing at what the village was thinking and saying

about them; and the pictures they drew of the public distress on their

account were gratifying to look upon--from their point of view. But

when the shadows of night closed them in, they gradually ceased to

talk, and sat gazing into the fire, with their minds evidently

wandering elsewhere. The excitement was gone, now, and Tom and Joe

could not keep back thoughts of certain persons at home who were not

enjoying this fine frolic as much as they were. Misgivings came; they

grew troubled and unhappy; a sigh or two escaped, unawares. By and by

Joe timidly ventured upon a roundabout "feeler" as to how the others

might look upon a return to civilization--not right now, but--

Tom withered him with derision! Huck, being uncommitted as yet, joined

in with Tom, and the waverer quickly "explained," and was glad to get

out of the scrape with as little taint of chicken-hearted homesickness

clinging to his garments as he could. Mutiny was effectually laid to

rest for the moment.

As the night deepened, Huck began to nod, and presently to snore. Joe

followed next. Tom lay upon his elbow motionless, for some time,

watching the two intently. At last he got up cautiously, on his knees,

and went searching among the grass and the flickering reflections flung

by the camp-fire. He picked up and inspected several large

semi-cylinders of the thin white bark of a sycamore, and finally chose

two which seemed to suit him. Then he knelt by the fire and painfully

wrote something upon each of these with his "red keel"; one he rolled up

and put in his jacket pocket, and the other he put in Joe's hat and

removed it to a little distance from the owner. And he also put into the

hat certain schoolboy treasures of almost inestimable value--among them

a lump of chalk, an India-rubber ball, three fishhooks, and one of that

kind of marbles known as a "sure 'nough crystal." Then he tiptoed his

way cautiously among the trees till he felt that he was out of hearing,

and straightway broke into a keen run in the direction of the sandbar.

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Part 4. · 第 3 / 6 章