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"It is quite probable. You may find it as you say you did the hut.
When are you going to search for it?"
"When you give me leave."
"Go when you like. I did think I should have to go again to-morrow to the settlement to confer with the General and the others, but messages have again been sent back to the Spanish Governor of Florida, and it must be many days, perhaps weeks, before we hear again, so you can go to-morrow if you will."
I leaped up from my seat excitedly.
"Where are you going now?"
"To tell Pomp to call me, and ask Sarah to prepare a basket of something to eat."
He nodded and took up a book, while after telling our housekeeper of my wants, I ran across the clearing to the edge of the forest to call the boy to get ready.
As I drew near I found Hannibal seated on a stump left by the cutting down of one of the trees to make room for the new hut, with his chin resting in his hands.
"Hallo, Han," I said; "anything the matter?"
"No, Ma.s.s' George," he said. "I only look up at de 'tars and tink."
"What about?"
"I wonder wedder dey de 'tars I see in my own country."
"Yes," I said; "I do know that. Do you ever want to go back again?"
"Back again, sah?"
"Yes--to your own country."
He shook his head. "No, Ma.s.s' George. Too much fight--too much kill-- too much sell for slave; nebber go back again."
"Then you are happy here?"
"Yes, sah. Happy here wif Ma.s.s' George and de capen. Can't talk.
Understand?"
"Oh, yes," I said; "I understand. Where's Pomp?"
"Sleep. Dah! I call um."
"No, no; let me," I said, laughing.
I went into the hut, and there on the blanket in a corner, with his mouth wide open, lay the boy fast asleep.
It was so dark inside that I should not have been able to make him out but for the gleam of light from the window, which made his teeth just visible.
I stood looking down at him and listening to his breathing for a few moments, before slipping out of the hut, taking my knife from my pocket, and cutting a long twig which I stripped, all but a few leaves at the end. As I came back, Hannibal rose.
"Don't whip, Ma.s.s' George," he said in a pleading whisper, as he laid his hand upon my arm.
"I was not going to," I said, laughing, "only to tickle him."
I saw the big African's teeth gleam, and I stole back into the hut on tip-toe, thinking the while how marvellous it was that a great fellow like the black, who could have almost crushed me with one hand, should be so patiently submissive, and give up to me as he did.
But that thought pa.s.sed away as I stood over Pomp and gently tickled him on one cheek. He moved restlessly, and I tickled the other with the leaves. He turned back again, and the end of the twig began to play about his neck. There was a quick rustle, one hand struck at the twig and Pomp rolled over upon his face. This gave me a good opportunity to t.i.tillate both sides of his neck, and he sprang round again.
"Bodder!" I heard him mutter; but I persevered, making the twig play well about him.
"Bodder de fly!" he cried, viciously; but the twig tickled away, and Pomp's eyes were so tightly closed that he contented himself with twisting and rubbing himself.
"Wait I get up, I mash all de ole fly eberywhere," he muttered.
Tickle--tickle--tickle.
_Slip slap_. Pomp's hands delivered a couple of blows on his bare skin.
Tickle--tickle--tickle.
"You no like me come mash you, eh?"
Tickle--tickle--tickle.
"Yah! You great ugly skeeter, you leave lil n.i.g.g.e.r go sleep."
"_Buzz_--_buzz_--_hum_." Tickle--tickle--tickle. I made as good an imitation as I could of a gnat's hum, and kept up the tickling till he made two or three vicious lounges out at where I stood in the darkness, and this time he got hold of the twig.
"Eh?" he exclaimed. "Dat not skeeter fly. Dat you, fader? You let lil n.i.g.g.e.r go sleep. Keep a 'tick 'till."
"Eh? Who dat? Ah, yah! It you, Ma.s.s' George. I know all de time."
"No, you didn't, old sleepy head."
"Eh? Well, what head for at night but sleep um? You want Pomp go after 'c.o.o.n?"
"No; look here, Pomp; we're to go and try to find the boat in the morning. Come and call me as soon as it's day."
"Eh? Why not go now, Ma.s.s' George?"
"No, no; I want to go and have a good sleep first. Mind, as soon as it's light; I'll take the gun."
"I call you, Ma.s.s' George, widout come an' ticklum wif lil 'tick, ha-- ha--ha! I know."
"Good-night."
"Good-night, Ma.s.s' George; I come and climb up your window; and you look out."
"I will," I said to myself as I went away, said good-night to Hannibal, and hurried back to bed, but not till I had carefully fastened my window ajar, so that Pomp could not get it open in the morning. And there I was, too much excited by the ideas of the trip to get to sleep. For as I lay there I could picture the little river winding in and out among the great trees of the primeval forest, and see it here black as night flowing sluggishly beneath the drooping moss-hung trees, there dancing in the sunshine that rained down from above, and then on and on in amongst the mysterious shades where in all probability the foot of man had never trod.