Scrambling through the fence, he dashed into every covert or tangle
wherein a hog might lurk, but without result; there came no rush of
feet, no shaking of the brown leaves, no startled grunt. All was
still, save for the quick panting of the old hound.
The old man then turned his eyes again upon the greedy mob, still
hoping to discover the missing ones amongst them. 'T was all in vain.
"De listed sow, _she_ done gone, an' de big white _hogue_, _he_ done
gone, an' seben head o' shotes!" he at length murmured, still,
however, casting expectant glances toward the thickets, in which Drive
was still sniffing with uneasy yelpings.
"Seem like dem creturs is clean gone, sho' nuf," he exclaimed, with an
air of unwilling conviction; then adding, "well, ef dey's gone, I 'se
got 'em to fine, dat's de trufe."
He called in the dog, and, taking his dinner bucket, climbed the fence
and struck off into the woods. Now and again he would pause, put his
horn to his lips, and give a long blast, then stand listening with
anxious expectancy. Every thicket was searched. It was a weary
tramp,--through bogs and sloshes, where the cypress knees stood up
like sugar-loaves in the shallow water, or sometimes his steps were
bent to some open glade, where the great oaks dropped sweet mast among
the brown leaves.
The day was no longer young when a low fence came into view; beyond it
stretched a levee, and at its base a glint of water showed itself
through the great trees, which stretched their mighty arms as though
they would embrace it.
Ung Jerry, after climbing the fence, mounted the levee and stood upon
the brink of a wide and muddy river. Taking off his hat, the old man
wiped the sweat from his face, then turned an observant eye upon the
river, whose muddy waters were already lapping the boughs of the
overhanging trees, and with a long-drawn breath exclaimed, "Bank an'
bank!"
Then, as his experienced eye noted the angry swirls near the shore
and the debris borne rapidly upon the turbid current, "An' still on de
rise. She gwine be out in de low groun's befo' mornin', bless de Lord;
I's been 'spectin' she gwine play dis trick eber since de win' set
like et did."
Then, looking at the field of standing corn upon the further shore,
protected by a low levee, and seeming to be upon a lower level than
the red waters of the flood, he soliloquized:--
"I's skeared de fresh gwine 'stroy a sight o' Mars Jones's corn. It
raly do 'pear like dat corn mout a been housed befo' now."
The old man's thoughts were interrupted at this point by loud and
animated barkings from Drive, and, hurrying to the spot whence they
proceeded, he discovered the old hound standing in a broken gap in the
fence, in a state of excitement over the numerous footprints which
told that the truants had broken through and made for the river,
evidently with designs upon "Mars Jones's" cornfield.
"Here's wha' dey tuck de watah," the old man remarked to the dog, as
together they followed the footprints to the water's edge. "Dat 'ere
listed sow, she got mo' sense un folks! She know 'bout Mars Jones's
corn, an' dey ain't no fence gwine stop dat cretur when she take a
notion for to go.
"Well, well, well, de listed sow, an' de big white hogue, an' seben
head o' shotes done tore down de fence, an' took deyselves 'cross de
riber for to steal Mars Jones's corn; I 'clare 't is a disgrace. I
reckon Mars Jones gwine cuss a plenty when he fine it out. It certinly
is a pity for master's creturs to do sich a low-life trick as dat. But
bless de Lord," and a look of crafty triumph came into his face,
"dey's got dey bellies full, anyhow."
With this pleasing reflection, and the conviction that nothing more
could be done for the present, the old man seated himself upon a log,
opened his bucket, took out his jack-knife, and proceeded to eat his
dinner, while Drive sat by, in eager readiness to snatch the morsels
flung to him, ere they could reach the ground.
When the meal was finished, dog and man each took comfort in his own
way. The dog stretched himself in the sunshine. The old man sat with
bent head "a-studyin'," then nodded, then fell into a deep sleep,
soothed by the silence, which reigned unbroken save for the distant
cawing of a crow.
The long gray moss swayed dreamily upon the motionless boughs of the
giant trees. Where the sycamore lifted its gaunt, white arms, the
great bald eagle sat immovable, watching with fierce, intent gaze for
its prey in the waters below.