AFTER HORNED TOADS
Olivia and Rose, as had Nellie, warmly welcomed the boys and Professor
Snodgrass, and, Mr. Seabury coming up a moment later, from his usual
stroll about the garden, added his greetings.
“We’re very glad to see you,” said the gentleman. “Come right in and
make yourselves comfortable. We have more room than we had on the
houseboat _Wanderer. _ I’ll have your baggage—where is that black
rascal, Ponto?—Ponto!”
“Yais, sah, I’se coming,” called a voice, and Ponto who had gone back
to the gate appeared, rubbing his eyes.
“Ponto, take these—why, you—you’ve been asleep again, I do
believe—Ponto—”
“I—I done gone an’ jest dozed off fo’ a minute, Massa Seabury,” said
Ponto. “I ’clar’ t’ goodness, dis am de most sleepiest climate I eber
see. Peers laik I cain’t do nuffin, but shet mah eyes an’—”
“Well if you don’t do something mighty quick with this baggage I’ll
find some way of keeping you awake,” spoke Mr. Seabury, but he was
laughing in spite of himself.
“Yais, sah, I’se goin’ t’ take keer of it immejeet, sah,” and the
colored man went off in search of a wheelbarrow, on which to bring the
trunks and valises up to the house from where they had been put off the
stage.
“I never saw such a chap,” said Mr. Seabury. “Before we came down here
he was as spry as I could wish, but now he does just as the Mexicans
do. He sleeps every chance he gets. But come on in. I know you must be
tired and hungry.”
“Bob is,” said Jerry. “I heard him say a while ago—”
“No, you didn’t hear me say anything,” exclaimed Bob quickly, fearful
lest he might be put to shame before the girls. “I’m not a bit hungry.”
“Fibber!” whispered Ned, though not so low but what they all heard, and
the girls burst into laughter.
“Never mind,” spoke Olivia. “Come on, Bob. I’ll take care of you. The
cook and I are great friends,” and the girl and Bob walked on ahead.
“I suppose you came out here to study some new kind of plant or
flowers, didn’t you?” asked Mr. Seabury, of the professor.
“Not exactly,” replied the scientist, “though I shall examine them with
much interest. What I came down for was to secure some specimens of
horned toads for the museum. I—”
“Horned toads!” exclaimed Nellie, who was walking with Jerry, while
Rose had volunteered to show Ned the beauties of the Mexican garden.
“Horned toads! Ugh! The horrible things. I hope you don’t bring them
around where I am, Professor. Horned toads! Why don’t you search after
something beautiful, like the wonderful butterfly you found in
Florida?”
“A horned toad is just as beautiful as a butterfly,” said Mr. Snodgrass
gravely. “The only difference is, people don’t appreciate the toad. I
do, and, some day, I hope to write a history of that creature. I have
my notes ready for the first volume, which will be a sort of
introduction.”
“How many volumes do you expect to write?” asked Mr. Seabury,
curiously.
“Twelve,” replied the scientist calmly. “Even then I will have to omit
much that is of interest. But I hope, in twelve, large books, to be
able to convey some idea of horned toads, as well as some information
about the other species.”
“Twelve volumes! I should hope so!” murmured Mr. Seabury.
By this time the travelers were at the bungalow. It was a well-arranged
affair, quite large, and set in the midst of a beautiful garden, with
rambling paths, and shady bowers, while the whole place was enclosed by
a mud or adobe wall. All around the bungalow was a wide veranda, and in
the center courtyard was a small fountain, with a jet of water spurting
up from the middle of a large shell.
“Isn’t this fine!” exclaimed Jerry, and the other boys agreed it was.
“Yes, we like ‘The Next Day’ very much,” said Nellie. “It was my idea
to call it that. From the very moment we arrived, and wanted something
done, about the only answer we could get was ‘to-morrow,’ ‘Mananna’ or
‘the next day,’ so I decided that would be a good name for the
bungalow.”
“Indeed it is,” declared the professor. “But you have a most delightful
place, and I should like to spend many ‘next days’ here. I hope your
health is better, Mr. Seabury?”
“Considerably so, sir. I find the air here agrees with my nerves and
rheumatism much better than in Florida. I have hopes of entirely
recovering. But let us go inside, I think luncheon is ready.”
It was and, in the cool dining-room, within sound of the tinkling
fountain, they ate a hearty meal, Bob demonstrating in his usual
fashion that he was quite hungry.
The girls took turns in explaining their experiences since coming to
California. The bungalow, which they rented, was on the outskirts of
the village of San Felicity, which was part of what had once been an
old Mexican town. It was located on the shores of a secluded bay, and
the bungalow was about ten minutes’ walk from the water.
“Do you think there are any horned toads around here?” asked the
professor, when the meal was finished, and they had gone out on the
veranda.
“I don’t know, I’m sure,” replied Mr. Seabury. “I’ll ask Ponto, he
knows everything there is to be known about this place. Ponto! I say,
Ponto!”
“Yais, sah, I’se comin’ sah!” and from somewhere in the depths of the
garden the voice sounded. A moment later the colored man appeared,
trying to hide a broad yawn.
“Ponto, do you know—well, I declare, if you haven’t been asleep again!”
“I—I—er—I jest was weedin’ de garden, Massa Seabury, an’ I done felt so
warm dat I jest closed mah eyes, jest fo’ a second, not a minute
longer, no sah, not a minute. Guess I knows better dan t’ go t’ sleep
when yo’ got company sah!” and Ponto looked very much hurt at the
accusation.
“Well, Ponto, I suppose you can’t help it. Do you happen to know where
there are any horned toads?”
“Horned toads! Good lan’, Massa Seabury! No sah! I ain’t got none!”
“I didn’t suppose you had. Do you know whether there are any around
here?”
“Well, I doan know ef dey has horns or not, but de oder day, when I
were comin’ home from goin’ t’ ole Mexican Pete’s shanty after some red
peppers, I seen some horrible kind of thing hoppin’ along ober de sand.
I—I didn’t stop t’ look an’ see ef he had horns, but I s’pects he had,
cause he were kind of diggin’ in de sand.”
“That’s the toad all right!” exclaimed the professor, joyfully. “Where
is the place? Take me out there right away, Ponto.”
“Take you out dere, Perfesser?”
“Yes, right away.”
“I—I s’pects I’d better go back an’ ’tend t’ mah weedin’!” exclaimed
Ponto, looking as pale as a colored man can look. “Weeds grow powerful
fast in dis climate. Dey’ll choke de flowers in about an hour. I’se got
t’ ’tend t’ ’em immejeet, sah. I ain’t got no time t’ go huntin’ horned
toads. I hopes you’ll ’scuse me, sah,” and with that Ponto was gone,
walking faster than he had at any time since the travelers arrived.
“He’s afraid,” said Rose, with a laugh. “I’m not. Come on, Professor,
I’ll show you where Ponto means, and maybe we can find some horned
toads.”
“Let’s all go,” proposed Jerry.
“I will, if you’ll promise not to let the horrible things come near
me,” said Nellie, and Jerry promised.
Mr. Seabury declared he would rather rest on the veranda than hunt
horned toads, so the three boys and the trio of girls, with the
professor, who armed himself with specimen boxes and a small net, set
off after the curious reptiles.
A short distance from the bungalow there was a sort of sandy stretch,
where little grew in the way of vegetation, and there, Rose explained,
was probably where Ponto had seen the toads. They headed toward it, the
scientist eagerly looking on the ground, for a first sight of the
specimens he had come so far to seek.