The Young Marooners on the Florida Coast

The pelican, however, saved them all future trouble on account of either its flesh or its skin, for, being a very shy bird, it flew away long before they came within gunshot. Having ascended the bluff, they stood upon a bank of sand, and looking far down the coast saw it curve out of sight, without offering any inducement to pursue it further. Immediately upon the bluff, and for a quarter of a mile inland, the country was bare of trees, except here and there a cluster of dwarfish cedars, overtopped by tall palmettoes; but in the interior the forest trees appeared rising into loftier magnificence the farther they grew from the sea. Striking across this barren strip-which, however, was pleasantly varied by patches of cacti loaded with superb crimson pears, and by little wildernesses of chincopin (dwarf-chestnut) bushes, whose open burrs revealed each a shining jet black cone-and entering the kind of forest where game might be expected, Harold gave Mum the order to "Hie on"; and he was soon dashing about in every direction.

"I suppose," said Robert, "that you intend to still hunt. But if so, you must remember that I have the art yet to learn; and if you wish not to be interrupted by my blunders, you had better describe now, before we go to work, how it is that still hunters find their game, and then how they approach it."

"They find their game by various means," Harold replied, acknowledging, at the same time, the justice of Robert's remarks. "Some by their own keen eyes alone in watching or in tracking; others by a dog trained for the purpose, as we expect to do. This last is the easier if the dog is good. When Mum has discovered a trail, he will keep directly before us, and as the trail freshens he will grow more cautious, until at last his step becomes as stealthy and noiseless as a cat. We must then be cautious too. If the woods are close so that we cannot see the deer, nor they see us until we are upon them, our success will depend upon the quickness of our shots, and the certainty of our aim; but if the woods are open, so that we can see them afar off, we must use the cover of a hill or of a thicket to conceal our approach, or else one of us must leave the dog with the other, and advance upon them in the open woods."

"But you do not mean to say," Robert argued, in surprise, "that deer will allow you to come upon them in broad day-light, and shoot them down?"

"Yes, I do," he replied; "and it is easy enough if you will pursue the right plan. When a deer feeds, he directs his eyes to the ground; and during that time he sees nothing except what is just at his nose. That is the opportunity you must take to advance. The moment he lifts his head you must stand stock still; and if you can manage to be of the colour of a stump, he will be apt to take you for one."

"But can you stop soon enough to imitate a stump!"

"Of course you must be quick; but this brings me to speak of another fact. A deer never puts down nor raises his head without first shaking his tail. Keep your eye therefore steadily fixed upon him, and guide your motions by his signs. Old Torgah used to give me an amusing account of the difference between deer and turkeys in this respect; for, with all their sagacity, in some things deer are very simple, while the turkey is so keen and watchful as to be called by hunters 'the wit of the woods.' Old Torgah's account, given in his broken English is this: ''Ingin,' said he, 'see deer feed, and creep on him when his head down. Deer shake 'ee tail; Injin stop still. Deer look hard at him, and say "stump! stump! nothing but stump!" Presently Injin creep close, and shoot him down. But Injin see turkey feed, and creep on him. Turkey raise 'ee long neck to look, and Injin stand still like a stump; but turkey never say "stump!" once; he say, "dat old Injin now!" and he gone.' But see, Mum has struck the trail of something. Notice how eager he is, yet how patiently he waits for us. Come, let us follow."

In Robert's opinion, Mum's reputation for patience was, on the present occasion, not deserved; for his pace was so rapid that it was difficult for them to keep within sight, and moreover he soon sprang ahead, and burst into a full loud cry. "I thought you said that he hunted in silence," he remarked, almost out of breath with running.

"I said he was silent on the trail of deer," replied Harold, "but these are turkeys. Do you not see the deep print of their toes in running! Mum knows what he is about. His racing after them will cause them to fly into the trees; and then as he stands below and barks, they will keep their eyes fixed on him, and never notice us. There they are! See in that oak! Robert, do you advance behind the cover of yonder mossy tree. I will find some other place. But as my rifle will carry farther than your smooth bore, do not mind me, except to await my signal. As soon as you are ready to fire, let me know by a whistle; if I am ready, I will answer you; and then do you fire about a second after you hear me. I will take the highest turkey."

They advanced silently but rapidly. Each came within a fair distance. Mum kept up a furious barking as the hunters approached. One whistle was heard, then another; three reports followed in quick succession; and four turkeys, two of them magnificent gobblers, tumbled heavily from the tree.

"Well done for us! Hurra!" shouted the boys, rushing upon their prey.

It was indeed good shooting, although part of it was accidental. Robert fairly won the credit of his two shots, having brought down the birds he aimed at; but the ball from Harold's rifle had passed through the eye of the one which he had selected, and broken the legs of another unseen by him beyond, and it now lay floundering upon the ground unhurt, except in its fractured limbs, but unable to rise.

The young hunters swung their prizes over a pole, of which each took an end, and then turned their faces homewards. The distance was not more than two miles, but burdened as they were with guns and game, and compelled to cut their way through frequent network of the grape-vine and yellow jessamine, and dense masses of undergrowth, they were nearly two hours in making it. Frank spied them from afar, and giving Mary a call, bounded to meet them. "Whew!" he whistled, on seeing their load, "what a bundle of turkeys!" He offered to help them carry a part of the load, but they were too weary to stop and untie. They preferred that Mary and Frank should show their kindness, by providing them with some cool water. "We will pay you for your trouble," said they, patting their pockets, which were stuffed full of something heavy; "make haste, and let us have it."

By the time they had wiped their wet brows, and begun to enjoy their rest, the water came. The boys first emptied their pockets of the shells and chincopins, found during their ramble, then cooled themselves by bathing their wrists; after which they drank, and casting themselves at length upon their couches of moss, they talked across the tent to Sam, who seemed to be as much elated as any of them with their success.

It was now past the middle of the day. The afternoon was spent in working upon their tent. Their object was to make it more impervious to rain and drift, in case of another storm; and this they effected by raising the floor, and by spreading the sail of their boat as a sort of outer awning.

CHAPTER XXI

RAINY DAY-THE KITCHEN AND FIRE-HUNTING THE OPOSSUM

It was fortunate for the young adventurers that they had executed so promptly their intended work upon the tent, for though they had no heavy wind, the rain poured down during the whole night; and when they arose next morning, the sky was full of low scudding clouds, which promised plenty of rain for all that day, and perhaps for days to come. But, though the tent was dry as a hay loft, there were several deficiencies. They had but a meagre supply of wood, and their kitchen fire was without a shelter. The wind and rain were both chilly; and, it was plain, that without somebody's getting wet they must content themselves with a cold breakfast, and a shivering day.

"Why did we not think of this before?" Robert querulously asked.

"Simply because we had other things to think of," replied Harold. "For my part, I am thankful that we have a dry tent."

"So am I," rejoined Robert, changing his tone. "But I should be still more thankful if we had a place where we could sit by the fire."

"Very likely, now since we know from experience, how uncomfortable it is to be without. But I doubt if any of us would be half so thankful, were it not for being put to inconvenience. I recollect a case in point. My mother was once taken sick while we were travelling through the Indian nation. At that time the Indians were becoming hostile, and we were every day expecting them to declare war. O, how troubled we all were! I remember that every morning we made it a point to say how thankful we were for spending another night, without being scalped. But afterwards, when we had returned home, and could spend our days and nights in peace, we forgot to be thankful at all."

Robert smiled at the naturalness of the description, and remarked, "Well, I think we shall be thankful now for a fire and shelter. Can we not devise some way to have them?"

The result of this conference was, that in the course of an hour they set up the boat-awning as a sort of kitchen, enclosed on three sides by the remaining bed-sheets, and having a fire at the windward gable, near which they sat very cosily on boxes and trunks brought from the tent.

Contrary to their expectation, the rain began to abate about noon, and long before sunset the surface of the earth was so much dried, and the drops left upon the trees and bushes so thoroughly exhaled or shaken off by a brisk wind, that the boys used the opportunity to bring in a supply of wood and lightwood. The light-wood was very rich, and split into such beautiful torch pieces, that Harold was tempted to think of a kind of sport in which he had often engaged, and in which he was very fond. "We have been pent up all day," said he to Robert; "suppose we change the scene by taking a fire-hunt tonight."

"With all my heart," was the reply; "and I think no one will object to our having a fat roast pig for our Sunday's dinner."

"Probably not," Harold rejoined, "and I am still more in favour of the idea, for the reason that, as we take such game alive, we can keep it as long as we will."

Their preparation for the excursion consisted simply in splitting an armful of lightwood, which Harold tied into a bundle, to be readily slung over the shoulders by a strap. In the midst of their preparations Frank came up, and on learning their purpose, almost shouted for joy. He had so often heard Sam and William speak of the pleasure of their 'possum hunts, that it had long been the height of his ambition, as a sportsman, to engage in one; but for various reasons the convenient time had never yet come.

"O, I am so glad!" he exclaimed, with a face lighted with pleasure; "you will let me go, won't you?"

Here now was a dilemma. How could they refuse him? and yet how could they with propriety leave Mary with no other companion than poor bed-ridden Sam? The boys saw no alternative but to give up the hunt, until Robert proposed himself to stay with Mary, on condition that Frank should carry the torch and light-wood, while Harold bore the ax and gun. But to their gratification, Frank, perceiving the difficulties of the case, and ashamed to rob his brother of a place which he himself was incompetent to fill, set the matter at rest, by saying:

"No, brother, I will not go tonight; I will wait and go with Cousin Harold some time when Sam gets well. But you must give me the pigs when you come back, and let me feed them every day."

They praised him sincerely for his act of self-denial, and promised that he should be no loser on account of it. Soon as it was dark they bid him good-night, and departed. He stood in the tent door, happy in the thought of their pleasure, and watched the animated motions of boys and dogs, as the red light flashed upon the trees, and the whole party became gradually lost from sight in the forest.

The boys had not proceeded a half mile, before the quick sharp bark, first of Mum, then of Fidelle, gave indications of their having "treed" some kind of game. Hastening to the spot, they saw the dogs looking eagerly up a slender, tall persimmon, and barking incessantly. For a time they could discover nothing in its branches, or on its body; and had begun almost to conclude that (in hunter's phrase) their dogs had lied, when Harold took the torch, waved it to and fro behind him, walking thus around the tree, and keeping his eyes fixed on those places where he supposed the opossum to be. Presently he cried out, "We have him! I see his eyes! Mum, poor fellow," patting his head, "you never lie, do you?" Mum wagged his expressive tail with great emphasis, as much as to say that he perfectly understood both the slander and the recantation, and that he now desired nothing but the privilege of giving that 'possum a good shake. Robert also took the light, and holding it behind him, saw amid a bunch of moss two small eyes glistening in the dark. The aim was so fair that the gun might have been used with certainty, were it not against all hunting rule; an opossum must be caught, not killed. The boys plied their ax upon the yielding wood, the eyes of the now silent dogs being fixed alternately upon the game above and the work below. The tree cracked and toppled. Mum's ears stood perfectly erect; and ere the branches had time to sway back, from their crash upon the ground, he was among them, growling at something upon which he had pounced. It was the opossum; and like all the rest of its tribe when in the presence of an enemy, it seemed to be stone dead. They took it up by its scaly, rat-like tail, and again went on.

In the course of a short walk they took a second, and on their way back, a third. These were quite as many as they could conveniently carry; and taking their captives home, they made them secure, by tying a forked stick around the neck of each, on the plan of a pig-yoke. From the moment that these singular animals found themselves in the power of their enemies, they put on all the usual appearances of death; not a muscle twitched, nothing stirred or trembled; each limb was stiff, and each eye closed; not even the growl or grip of the dogs was sufficient to disturb their perfect repose. Robert could scarcely persuade himself that they were not really dead. Harold laughed.

"They can stand the crash of a tree and the worrying of dogs," he said, after they were made secure; "but there is one thing which they cannot stand. See here!" and he poured a cupful of cold water on each. The shock seemed to be electric. Each dead opossum was galvanized into life, and pulled stoutly to break away from its wooden fetters. "Now let us to bed."

CHAPTER XXII

FRANK AND HIS "PIGS" – THE CAGE-WALK ON THE BEACH-IMMENSE CRAWFISH-THE MUSEUM-NAMING THE ISLAND

Frank's first words the next morning, as in his night-clothes he ran from Mary's room, were, "Have you brought my pig?"

"Yes! yes!" they answered, "three of them; and all yoked to boot, so that they cannot get either into the garden or the cornfield."

Frank did not comprehend this enigmatical language; he hastily dressed and went out. Close to the awning he found the new comers sitting, each secured by the novel pillory which Harold had contrived. They were ugly looking creatures, with long, hypocritical faces, coarse, grizzly hair, and an expression of countenance exceedingly contemptible. Frank had often seen opossums before, but the fancy name of pigs had caused him mentally to invest them with the neat and comely aspect of the little grunters at home. When he hurried from the tent, and saw them in their native ugliness, writhing their naked, snakey tails, he turned away with unaffected disgust.

"They are not very pretty," said Harold, watching the changes that flitted across the little fellow's face.

"No, indeed," he replied; "they are the ugliest things I ever saw. You may keep them and feed them yourself; for I will not have them for mine."

The unsightly appearance of the opossum excites in many persons a prejudice against its use for the table. But when young and tender, or after having been kept for several days, its flesh is so nearly in taste like that of a roast pig, that few persons can distinguish the difference.

A cage for the captives was soon constructed, of poles several inches in diameter, notched into each other, and approaching at the top like a stick trap. The floor was also guarded with poles, to prevent their burrowing out.

"Now we need one or two troughs for their water and food," observed Harold, after the prisoners, loosed from their neck-locks, had been introduced into the airy saloon erected for their accommodation. "I propose, therefore, that Mary and Frank shall go with one of us to Shell Bluff, and bring home a supply of conch shells, to be converted, as we need them, into troughs, cups, dippers, and trumpets."

Mary and Frank needed no persuasion to go upon this excursion, after the glowing description given by the boys on their return from the beach. Robert preferred to remain with Sam. The others set off-Harold with his gun, which, for reasons of policy, was an inseparable companion, Mary with a basket, and Frank with his dog and hatchet. On arriving at the beach, down which they were to pass for a mile or more, the youngsters amused themselves for a time with writing names, or making grotesque figures in the hard smooth sand; then ran to overtake Harold, who had walked slowly on, watching the sea-gulls plunge after their prey on the surface of the water; for a short distance they went with him side by side, chatting through mere excitement; then dashing far ahead, they picked up shells and other curiosities thrown up from the sea. Several times was Mary's basket filled with prizes, and afterwards emptied for others still more beautiful, before they reached the place which the boys had named "Shell Bluff."

The beach at that place was lovely indeed. For half a mile or more it looked like snow, mottled with rose colour here, and with dark brown there; while, crowning the bluff above, waved a cluster of tropical palmettoes, around whose bases gathered the dark and fragrant cedar.

Again Mary replenished her basket, Frank filled every pocket he had, and his cap besides, and Harold collected his handkerchief full of fine-looking conch shells. They were about returning, when their attention was attracted by the shell of an enormous crawfish, whose body alone was nearly a foot long, and whose claws, extending far in front, were of hideous dimensions. This last Harold said he must take home for "Mr. Philosopher Robert," and learn from him what it was.

Robert was much pleased to see the collections they had made, and particularly so with the shell. He said that this was another proof, if he needed any other, to show that they were on the western coast of South Florida, for he had often heard of the enormous crawfish that abounded there, and that were almost equal in size to the lobster.

"Let us be sure, Harold," said he, "to put it beside your oyster, with the raccoon's foot, as the beginning of a museum gathered from the island."

"Yes; and our rattlesnake's skin," Frank added.

"And our turkey's tail, and Frank's plume," said Mary. "We have the beginning of a museum already; for there are besides these things about twenty varieties of shells and sea-weeds in this basket, some of which I never saw before."

Harold was as much interested as any in the idea of a museum; for though he knew nothing of its proper arrangement, he had good sense enough to perceive that it was a very ready means of acquiring and retaining knowledge.

"But the name of this island," said Robert, musing; "I have several times wished that we had one. And why should we not, for who has a better right to give it a name than we, its only inhabitants?"

He expressed the mind of the whole company, and they soon proceeded to call upon each other for nominations. "The rule in such cases, I have heard, is to begin with the youngest," said Robert. "So Master Frank, do you tell us what you would have it called."

Frank mused a moment, and replied, "I will call it Turkey Island; because turkeys were the first thing we saw here."

"My name, I think, will be the Island of Hope," said Mary, as her brother's eye rested on her. "We have certainly been hoping ever since we came, and will continue to hope until we get away."

"Yes, but we sometimes despaired, too," answered Robert, "especially on the morning after the storm. I have thought of the Caloosa name-the Enchanted Island."

"Please, Massa," Sam implored, "don't call um by dat name. I begin to see ghosts now; and I 'fraid, if you call um so, I will see ghosts and sperits all de time."

"I think a more suitable name still," said Harold, "is the Island of Refuge. It has certainly been to us a refuge from the sea, and from the storm. And if it is the Enchanted Island, of which Riley spoke, it will also prove a refuge from the Indians, for none will dare to trouble us here."

Sam declined suggesting any name. He said, pointing across the river to the bluff, where he had met with his accident, "Dat my place, obe' turrah side;7 and my name for him is Poor Hope."

The name decided by universal acclamation, was THE ISLAND OF REFUGE.

"I wish we had a horn of oil," said Robert, "I would anoint it, as discoverers are said to do. And if any person could suggest an appropriate speech I would repeat it on the occasion; but the only words I can think of now are,

'Isle of Beauty, fare thee well!'

And much as I admire everything around, I hope ere long to repeat those words in truth."

CHAPTER XXIII

THEIR SECOND SABBATH ON THE ISLAND, AND THE WAY THEY SPENT IT

On coming together in the morning, Robert proposed that they should add to their usual religious exercises the singing of a hymn. "It is father's plan," said he, "to mark the Sabbath with as many pleasant peculiarities as possible."

Harold was gratified with the suggestion, but remarked, "As I cannot sing, you must allow me to join you in my heart, or else to assist the music with my flute."

"Oh, the flute, by all means!" Mary replied. "And see here what a beautiful hymn I have just found!"

Robert took the book, and read with remarkable appropriateness of tone and manner that exquisite hymn by Dr. Watts, beginning

"My God, how endless is thy love!"

The music that morning was unusually sweet. The voices of the singers were rendered plaintive by a consciousness of their helpless situation; and the rich tones of the flute, together with Sam's African voice, which was marked by indescribable mellowness, added greatly to the effect.

The subject of the chapter was the parable of the prodigal son. Sam, poor fellow, raised himself on his elbow, and listened attentively; his remark made afterwards to Mary, showed that, however far beyond his comprehension a great part of the parable may have been, he had caught its general drift and meaning. "De Lord is berry kind; he meet de sinner afore he get home, and forgib him ebbery ting."

About nine o'clock the young people separated, with the understanding that they were to re-assemble at eleven, for the purpose of reading the Scriptures, and of conversation about its teachings.

Robert went to the beach, and taking his seat upon a log, near the flag-staff, looked upon the ocean, and engaged in deep reflection upon their lonely situation, and the waning prospects of their deliverance. His Testament gradually slipped from his grasp, and his head sunk between his knees. Such was his absorption of mind, that the big drops gathered upon his forehead, and he was conscious of nothing except of his separation from home, and of the necessity for exertion. At last he heard a voice from the tent. Harold and Mary were beckoning to him; and looking up to the sun, he saw that eleven o'clock had come and passed. He sprang to his feet, and in doing so, was rebuked to see lying on the ground the Testament which he had taken to read, but had not opened.

Harold, on leaving the tent, took his pocket Bible and strolled up the river bank, to a pleasant cluster of trees, where he selected a seat upon the projecting root of a large magnolia. His mind also reverted naturally to their lonely situation; but he checked the rising thoughts, by saying to himself, "No. I have time enough during the week for thoughts like these. The Sabbath is given for another purpose, which it will not do for me longer to neglect. When the Lord delivered us in that strange way at sea, I resolved to live like a Christian, but I have neither lived nor felt as I ought. The Lord forgive me for my neglect, and help me to do better." He knelt down, and for several minutes was engaged in endeavouring to realize that he was in the presence of God. His first words were a hearty confession that, although he had been early taught to know his duty, he had not done it, nor had the heart to do it; and, though in the experience of countless blessings, he had never been grateful for any until the time of that unexpected deliverance. He thanked God for having taught him by that dreadful accident to feel that he was a sinner, and that it was a terrible thing to live and to die such. He said he knew there were promises, many and great, to all who would repent of sin, and believe in Jesus Christ, and he prayed that God would enable him so to repent and believe, as to feel that the promises were made to him.