Mass' George Part 46

"Oh," I said to myself at last, as I lay listening to the monotonous piping insect hum, and the bellowings and croakings from the wood, "how hot it is! I do wish it was day."

But it seemed that many hours must elapse before day could come, and in a curious dreamy way I was wandering on and on through the tangled wood close to the river-bank, when Pomp said in a whisper--

"Hi! Ma.s.s' George, you go 'top seep all day?"

I started up to find that I had slept for hours, and light in the shape of the morning was at the window, in company with darkness in the form of Pomp's black face.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

I lost no time in dressing after opening my window wide, there being no fear now of Pomp getting at me to have his revenge while I was asleep for the tricks I had played upon him.

The boy thrust in his legs with an easy motion, as soon as the window was thrown open, raising himself and dropping gently into a sitting position to watch me wash and dress.

"Well, why are you looking on in that contemptuous way?" I said at last, as I noted the play of his face.

"Dat not temshus, Ma.s.s' George," he said. "I only sit and fink what long time you are wash and dress."

"That's not long," I said; "why, how long are you?"

"No time, Ma.s.s' George. I go bed like am now, and get up like am now, and come on."

"But do you mean to say you haven't washed this morning?"

"How I 'top go to ribber an' wash, when Ma.s.s' George wait to be called?

Hab good 'wim when we get to ribber."

I finished dressing, and took Pomp into Sarah's kitchen, where we both made a hearty meal, which was interrupted by Pomp insisting upon having the shot and powder pouches buckled on him at once, so that he might make sure of them, and not be defrauded of the honour of carrying them by any tricks on my part.

He did not look so pleased at having to carry the wallet which had been well stored ready for our use, but he submitted to have the strap thrown over his head, and pa.s.sed one arm through. Then full of eagerness I shouldered the gun, and we started off into the forest, pa.s.sing the clearing where the rattlesnake had been killed, and next pa.s.sing on to the little river, up whose course we were to make our way, keeping a good look-out for the boat the while.

The morning was glorious, the sun piercing the low-lying mist, which rapidly grew more transparent, broke up, and seemed to dissolve away.

The birds were piping and screaming in the trees, and as we reached the river, where all was light and sunshine, we started first a great white crane, which rose from the shallows and flew off, then a kingfisher with dazzling coat, and soon after came in sight of a little flock of rosy-winged flamingoes, with their curious, long, snaky, writhing necks, and quaintly-shaped bills, which always looked to me as if they were made to use upside down.

"Well, I nebber see!" cried Pomp at last, after stepping back, and preserving the most profound silence time after time.

"What's the matter?"

"Why Ma.s.s' George no shoot?"

"Because we don't want the birds. You don't care to have to carry them, do you?"

"No; dis wallet um so dreffle heabby."

We tramped on a little farther, now in the deep shade, now in the golden sunshine when we could get close to the stream, and then Pomp sighed.

"Ma.s.s' George like to carry de walletum now?"

"No; I'm carrying the gun."

"Pomp carry de gun."

"Oh, no," I said, "I'll manage that;" and we went slowly on again.

There was no track, and near the river where the light and sunshine played there was plenty of thick undergrowth, while a short distance back in the forest the walking was easy among the trees, where scarcely anything clothed the ground in the deep shadow.

Pomp kept trudging away toward the dark, shadowy forest, and I had to stop him again and again, for the boat was not likely to be in there.

On the last occasion he said--

"Walletum dreffle heabby, Ma.s.s' George. Don't think better carry um inside?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ma.s.s' George eat half, and Pomp eat half. Den we hab nuffum to carry."

I naturally enough burst out laughing.

"Why, we've only just had a good breakfast, and couldn't eat any more."

"Oh yes, Pomp could, big lots."

"And what are we to have to eat by and by, when we get hungry?"

"Ma.s.s' George shoot ducks; Pomp make fire an' roace um."

"No, no, no," I cried. "Here, pa.s.s me the wallet, and I'll give you a rest."

"And Pomp carry de gun," he cried, eagerly.

"No, sir. If you can carry the gun, you can carry the wallet. Here, give me hold."

Pomp looked disappointed as he handed over the wallet very slowly, and after slinging it on we once more progressed, looking carefully in all directions in search of the lost boat, but seeing nothing; and I soon had to come to the conclusion that the chances were very greatly against our finding the object of our search.

It was slow work, but for some miles the place was familiar, my father having brought me as far exploring, and Pomp and I having several times over boated through the dark forest along that bright, winding highway-- the river; generally with some difficulty, on account of the fallen trees, and snags, and dense overgrowth, beneath which we often had to force our way, while at other times we had almost to cut a channel through the lilies and other water plants which choked the stream.

It was plain enough to see though, now, how comparatively easy a journey would have been in a boat, for the large flood-waves which had swept up the river had scoured out its bed, throwing vast rotting heaps of the succulent water-growths ash.o.r.e to rot, fester, and dry in the hot sun.

High up too I could see the traces where the flood had reached, well marked by the dry gra.s.s hanging among the boughs.

But we kept on forcing our way slowly, soon getting into a part of the river that was entirely new, and growing more and more fascinating to me at every step.

For there was, in addition to the glorious beauty of the bright, sunny river, with its banks where in places the trees drooped down and dipped their boughs in the smooth water, and the various growths were of the most dazzling green, always something new--bird, quadruped, insect, or fish taking my attention to such a degree that I often forgot the boat and the object of our journey.

Pomp was just as excited as I, touching my arm every now and then to point with a black finger at some grey heron standing thigh-deep, watching for the fish that nearly made the waters alive; and perhaps just as we were waiting to see him make the next dart with his beak at some shoal of unfortunate fry, there would be what seemed to be a great curved bar of silver flash out of the water, to plunge in again, giving us just a glimpse of the fierce fish's glittering scales. Every now and then some big fellow would leap right out, to come down again with a heavy splash, and send a whole shoal of tiny fish, invisible to us before, flying out of the water to avoid their enemy, the river shark.

A little farther, and Pomp's lips would be close to my ear imploring me to shoot as he indicated a bit of sandy or muddy sh.o.r.e where, just clear of the water and looking like a piece of tree-stump, a great alligator would lie basking in the hot sunshine.

But I invariably resisted his prayers, and as we went on, the reptile would suddenly hear our coming and scuffle rapidly out of sight, making a great swirl in the water as he disappeared.