The Young Marooners on the Florida Coast Part 10

Why, sister--what house is this! O, I remember, it is our tent."

Frank drew a long breath, nestled close to his sister, and laid his head on her bosom. He seemed to be thinking painfully. After a minute or two he sprang to his feet, and began to dress. Peeping through the curtain that divided the two sleeping apartments, he said, "Brother and cousin Harold are sleeping yet, shall I wake them?"

"No, no," she replied. "They must be very weary after all their hard work and trouble. Let us just say our own prayers, and go out softly to look at the boat."

The first thing which greeted their eyes, on coming to the open air, was Nanny with her kids. The tide had gone down during the night, leaving the boat aground, and the hungry goat had taken that opportunity to jump out, with her little ones, and eat some fresh gra.s.s and leaves.

Mary's mind, as housekeeper, turned towards breakfast. She and Frank renewed the fire, the crackling and roar of which soon roused the others, who joined them, and then went to the boat to see that all was safe.

No change had occurred, other than has been noticed, except that the fulness of the dogs proved that they had fed heartily upon something during the night; and of course that they had proved unfaithful sentinels. The sight of the boat made them sad. It told of their distance from home, and of the dangers through which they had pa.s.sed.

For some minutes no one broke the silence; yet each knew instinctively the other's thoughts. Frank finally came near to Robert, and looking timidly into his face, said, "Brother, do you not think that father will send somebody after us?"

"Yes, indeed; if he only knew where to send," Robert replied in a soothing tone; "and more than that, I think he would come himself."

"I think he _will_ send," said Frank; "for I remember that after he knelt down by the landing and prayed for us, he turned to the man on horse-back, and pointed to us; and then the man went back where he came from as hard as he could gallop."

"Well, buddy," returned Robert, "if father does not come after us, nor send for us, there is one thing we can do--try to get back to him. So there now"--he stooped down, and kissed him affectionately. Then he and Harold walked together on the beach.

During the whole morning, as on the preceding evening, Harold had been unusually grave and thoughtful. "Robert," he remarked, when they were beyond the hearing of the others, "I have been trying ever since we rose to think what we ought to do today; but my mind cannot fix on anything, except what we said yesterday about being thankful, and trying to do better. There is no telling how long it will be before we see Bellevue again, or what dangers we must meet. One thing, however, seems certain, that we ought to try and act like good Christian people; and that part of our duty is to have some kind of worship here, as we have been used to having at your father's."

Robert a.s.sented, but asked, "How can we do it? I am not accustomed to conduct these things, nor are you."

"We can at least do this," replied Harold, whose mind was so deeply impressed with a sense of his obligations, that he was neither afraid nor ashamed of doing his duty. "We can read a chapter, verse about, morning and evening, and repeat the Lord's prayer together."

This was so easy, so natural, and so proper, that it was without hesitation agreed to. Mary and Frank were informed of it, and it was immediately put into practice. They gathered round the fire; and as the murmur of their prayer ascended from that solitary beach, the consciousness that this was _their own_ act of worship, without the intervention of a minister, who is the priest of the sanctuary, or of a parent, who is the priest of the household, imparted a deep solemnity to their tones and feelings.

Scarcely had they risen from their knees, before Nanny and her kids were seen to run bleating down the bluff, while Mum and Fidelle, having rapidly ascended at the first alarm, gave signs of more than usual excitement. The boys hurried up the sandy steep, gun in hand, and looked in every direction. Nothing was to be seen, but Fidelle's tail was dropped with fear, and Mum's back was bristling with rage.

"What can be the matter with the dogs?" asked Robert.

"I do not know," Harold replied. "But we can soon find out. Here, Mum, hie on!"

He gave the sign of pursuit, and the two dogs ran together, and began barking furiously at something in an immense mossy live oak near at hand. The boys stood under the tree, and scrutinized every branch and mossy tuft, without discovering anything except a coal black squirrel, that lay flat upon a forked limb. "You foolish beasts!" exclaimed Harold, "did you never see a black squirrel before, that you should be so badly frightened at the sight of one?" then levelling his rifle at its head, he brought it down. It was very fat, having fed upon the sweet acorns of the live oak, and appeared also to be young and tender.

Harold took it back to the tent, as an addition to their dinner, remarking, "It is the sweetest meat of the woods." All admired its glossy black skin, and Frank begged for the rich bushy tail, that he might wear it as a plume. This little diversion, though trifling in itself, exerted a very cheering effect upon the elastic spirits of the young people, and made them for a time forget their solitude and comparative helplessness. Had they known the country as well then as they had occasion to know it afterwards, they would not have felt so quiet, or have been so easily satisfied, when they saw the signs of alarm in their brutes.

When they sat down to their simple breakfast, it made Frank laugh to see how awkward everything appeared. There was no table, and of course there were no chairs. All sat on their heels, except Mary, who being the lady was dignified with a seat upon a log, covered with a folded cloak. It was a regular marooning breakfast.

"I think that our first business this morning is to look for water,"

remarked Harold, while they were sitting together. "The goat seems to be very thirsty, and, as our jug is half empty, it will not be long before we shall be thirsty too. But how shall we manage our company?

Shall Mary and Frank continue at the tent, or shall we all go together?"

"O together, by all means," said Mary, speaking quickly. "I do not like the way those dogs looked before breakfast; they frightened me. There may not be anything here to hurt us, but if there should be, what could Frank and I do to help ourselves?"

"Then together let us go," Robert decided. "And Frank, as you have nothing else to do, we will make you _dipper master_."

They ascended the bluff, and looked in every direction, to ascertain if possible where they might obtain what they wished; but nowhere could they discern the first sign or promise of water. Far to the south as the eye could reach, the country looked dry and sandy. Eastward extended the river, or arm of the sea, but it appeared to have no current, other than the daily tides, and its sh.o.r.e gave no indication of being indented by rivulets, or even by the rains.

"It will put us to great inconvenience if we are not able to obtain fresh water," remarked Harold. "We shall be compelled to move our quarters without delay, for our supply cannot last long. However, there is no such thing as not trying. Which way shall we move?"

"Towards the sea," replied Robert. "There is one fact about a sandy coast, that perhaps you have had no occasion to know--that _oftentimes our best water is found on the open beach, just about high-water mark_.

I have heard father explain this fact by saying that rain water is lighter than that which is salt; and that the rain probably filters through the sandy soil of the coast, and finds its vent just above the ordinary surface of the sea. I think, therefore, our best chance for finding fresh water is on the seash.o.r.e, in the sand."

They had not proceeded far along the bluff before they heard a loud rushing in the air, and looking up they saw what Mary and Frank supposed to be a gang of enormously large buzzards, flying rapidly towards the forest, and pa.s.sing very near them. "What can they be!" inquired Robert, in momentary doubt. "Really, Harold, they are turkeys! wild turkeys!"

But as he uttered the words "wild turkeys," bang! went Harold's rifle, and down fluttered a gobler, with his wing broken. "Here, Mum!" he shouted; but Mum knew his business too well to need exhortation, for by the time the bird had scrambled to its legs Mum had seized and held it, until Harold put an end to its struggles by cutting off its head.

"Here now is a fine dinner," said he, lifting it, "only feel how heavy; he is rolling fat."

"Yes, indeed," replied Robert; "and that was a quick shot of yours, Mr.

Harold--with a rifle too. I wonder I did not think sooner of shooting; but in truth I was in doubt what they were, and also astonished at their number."

"What a lovely fan his tail will make!" exclaimed Mary, examining the rich stripes of black and brown that marked the end of the feathers.

"We must be sure to carry it home for--," she was going to say "mother when she comes," but the thought of their forlorn condition came over her, and she added softly--"if we ever get there."

"Let us leave the turkey, hanging in this tree to bleed, until we return," said Harold; "we must look for water now."

They returned to the beach, and walked along the smooth hard sands. The tide, or rather "half tide" (as it is called on that coast), having an ebb and flow, each of three hours, was nearly down, and they had a full opportunity for the proposed search.

"There is water somewhere here about, you may be sure," said Harold, pointing to tracks of the dogs, made during the night, and partly obliterated by the tide. "Our dogs pa.s.sed here last night before high water, and they look as if they had had plenty both to eat and to drink."

A quarter of a mile's walk brought them to a place, when Robert called out, "Here is the water! and here are our dogs' tracks, all about and in it. Get out you Mum!--begone Fidelle!" he added, as the dogs trotted up, intending to drink again. The water was good, and in great abundance. They quenched their thirst, and were preparing to return for the bucket to carry home a supply, when Harold suggested to pursue the tracks of the dogs a little further, and learn what they had obtained to eat. "I perceive not far off," said he, "what appears to be an oyster bank, but do dogs eat oysters?"

They proceeded to the spot, and found a large bank of uncommonly fine oysters. It was an easy task for those who knew how to manage it, to break the mouth of one with another and to cut the binding muscle with a pocket-knife. Harold shrunk aghast at the idea of eating an oyster alive; but Robert's example was contagious, and the a.s.surance that this primitive mode of eating them was the most delicious, sufficed to make every one adopt it. Engaged in selecting some of the finest specimens to carry back, the others heard Frank call out, in one of his peculiarly merry exclamations:

"Ohdy! dody! Look here! There is a big, black cat's foot in this oyster's mouth. I wonder if the cat bit off his own foot!"

They hurried to the spot, Mary and Harold laughing at the odd fancy, as they esteemed it, of a cat biting off its own foot, and saw, not a cat's foot indeed, but that of a racc.o.o.n, firmly fastened in the oyster's mouth.

"What does this mean?" Harold inquired, with wonder.

"Why, Harold," replied Robert, "did you never hear of a racc.o.o.n being caught by an oyster?"

"Never," he answered; "but are you in earnest?"

"Certainly, in earnest as to there being such a report," he replied, "and this I suppose is proof of its truth. It is said that the racc.o.o.n is very fond of oysters, and that when they open their mouths, at a certain time of tide, to feed upon the sc.u.m of the water, it slips its paw suddenly between the sh.e.l.ls, and s.n.a.t.c.hes out the oyster before it has time to close. Sometimes, however, the racc.o.o.n is not quick enough, and is consequently caught by the closing sh.e.l.ls. Such was probably the case with this fellow; he came to the bank last night to make a meal of the oysters, but was held fast until our dogs came up and made a meal of him."

"But I doubt," said Harold, "whether dogs ever eat racc.o.o.ns. They will hunt and worry them as they do cats and other animals, which they never eat, at least never except in extremity."

"Then I suppose," added Robert, "we must account for this by another story which is told, that a racc.o.o.n, when driven to the necessity, will actually gnaw off its own foot."

"Really," said Harold, "this is a curiosity. I must take this oyster to the tent, and examine it more at my leisure."

The young people gathered as many oysters as they could carry in their hands, and reaching the tent about ten o'clock, began preparing them, together with their game, for the table. Robert cut off the squirrel's tail for Frank; and having drawn out the bone, without breaking the skin, inserted a tough, slender stick, so that when it was properly dried, Frank might use it as a plume. The preparation of the turkey's tail was undertaken by Harold. He cut off the tail-bone, with the feathers attached, and having removed every particle of flesh and cartilage not necessary for keeping the feathers together, he stretched it like a fan, and spread it in the ran to dry.

CHAPTER XI