Not without some surprise did I make this discovery. What was the
mulatto doing in the woods at such an hour? It was not his habit to be
so thrifty; on the contrary, it was difficult to rouse him to his daily
work. He was not a hunter--had no taste for it. I never saw him go
after game--though, from being always in the woods, he was well
acquainted with the haunts and habits of every animal that dwelt there.
What was he doing abroad on this particular morning?
I remained on my perch to watch him, at the same time keeping an eye
upon the deer.
It soon became evident that the mulatto was not after these; for, on
coming out of the timber, he turned along its edge, in a direction
opposite to that in which the deer had gone. He went straight towards
the gap that fed into the maize-field.
I noticed that he moved slowly and in a crouching attitude. I thought
there was some object near his feet: it appeared to be a dog, but a very
small one. Perhaps an opossum, thought I. It was of whitish colour, as
these creatures are; but in the distance I could not distinguish between
an opossum and a puppy. I fancied, however, that it was the pouched
animal; that he had caught it in the woods, and was leading it along in
a string.
There was nothing remarkable or improbable in all this behaviour. The
mulatto may have discovered an opossum-cave the day before, and set a
trap for the animal. It may have been caught in the night, and he was
now on his way home with it. The only point that surprised me was, that
the fellow had turned hunter; but I explained this upon another
hypothesis. I remembered how fond the negroes are of the flesh of the
opossum, and Yellow Jake was no exception to the rule. Perhaps he had
seen, the day before, that this one could be easily obtained, and had
resolved upon having a roast?
But why was he not carrying it in a proper manner? He appeared to be
leading, or dragging it rather--for I knew the creature would not be
led--and every now and then I observed him stoop towards it, as if
caressing it.