Goulding Francis Robert
The Young Marooners on the Florida Coast
CHAPTER XXIV
MOTE IN THE EYE, AND HOW IT WAS REMOVED-CONCH TRUMPET AND SIGNALS-TRAMP-ALARM
The next morning, while planning together the employments of the day, Frank came in, holding his hand over his eye, having had a grain of sand thrown into it by an unfortunate twitch of Dora's tail. It pained him excessively, and he found it almost impossible to keep from crying. Mary ran quickly and brought a basin, for the purpose of his washing it out. He however became frightened at finding his mouth and nose immersed, and was near being strangled in the attempt. It would have been better for so young a person, if Mary had made him hold back his head, and dropped the water under the uplifted lid. She next proposed to remove it by introducing the smooth head of a large needle to the painful spot, and moving the mote away; but neither would Frank allow this. Robert then took the matter in hand, and having in vain blown and rubbed in various ways, endeavoured to remove the substance by drawing the irritated lid over the other, in such a way as to make the lash of one a sort of wiper to the other. But neither did this succeed. By this time the eye had become much inflamed, and Frank began to whimper. Harold asked him to bear it for a minute longer, and he would try old Torgah's plan. With a black filament of moss, the best substitute he could devise for a horse hair, he made a little loop, which he inserted under the uplifted lid, so as to enclose the foreign substance; then letting the lid fall, he drew out the loop, and within it the grain of sand. Robert observed that an almost infallible remedy is to bandage the eye and take a nap; and Mary added, that it would be still more certain if a flaxseed were put into the eye before going to sleep. Frank, however, needed no further treatment; he bathed his eye with cold water, wore a bandage for an hour, and then was as well as ever.
During the conversation that preceded this incident, Harold had brought out a hammer and large nail, and now occupied himself with making a smooth hole in the small end of one of the conches. Having succeeded, he put the conch to his lips, and after several trials brought from it a loud clear note like that of a bugle. Robert also, finding that the sound came easily, called aloud, "Come here, sister, let us teach you how to blow a trumpet."
It was not until after several attempts that Mary acquired the art. Frank was much amused to see how she twisted and screwed her mouth to make it fit the hole; and though he said nothing at the time, Harold had afterwards reason to remember a lurking expression of sly humour dancing about the corners of his mouth and eyes.
"Now, cousin," said Harold, when Mary had succeeded in bringing out the notes with sufficient clearness, "if ever you wish to call us home when we are within a mile of you at night, or half a mile during the day, you have only to use this trumpet. For an ordinary call, sound a long loud blast, but for an alarm, if there should be such a thing, sound two long blasts, with the interval of a second. When you wish to call for Frank, sound a short blast, for Robert two, and for me three.
In his different strolls through the forest, Harold had observed that the wild turkeys frequented certain oaks, whose acorns were small and sweet. It was part of his plan to capture a number of these birds in a trap, and to keep them on hand as poultry, to be killed at pleasure. For this purpose, it was necessary that the spot where the trap was to be set should first be baited. He therefore proposed to Robert to spend part of the forenoon in selecting and baiting several places; and with this intention they left home, having their pockets filled with corn and peas. It did not require long to select half a dozen such places, within a moderate distance of the tent, to bait, and afterwards to mark them so that they could be found.
Having completed this work, they were returning to the tent, when they heard afar off the sound of the conch. It was indistinct and irregular at first, as if Mary had not been able to adjust her mouth properly to the hole; but presently a note came to them so clear and emphatic, that Mum pricked up his ears, and trotted briskly on; and after a second's pause came another long blast. "Harold! Harold!" Robert said in a quick and tremulous tone, "that is an alarm! I wonder what can be the matter. Now there are two short blasts; they are for me; and now three for you. Come, let us hurry. Something terrible must have happened to Frank or to Sam."
They quickened their pace to a run, and were bursting through the bushes and briers, when they again heard the two long blasts of alarm, followed by the short ones, that called for each of them. They were seriously disturbed, and continued their efforts until they came near enough to see Mary walking about very composedly, and Frank sitting, not far from the tent, with the conch lying at his feet. These signs of tranquillity so far relieved their anxiety, that they slackened their pace to a moderate walk, but their faces were red, and their breath short from exertion. They began to hope that the alarm was on account of good news instead of bad-perhaps the sight of a vessel on the coast. Robert was trembling with excitement. A loud halloo roused the attention of Frank, and springing lightly to his feet he ran to meet them.
"What is the matter?" asked Robert; but either Frank did not hear, or did not choose to reply. He came up with a merry laugh, talking so fast and loud, as to drown all the questions.
"Ha! ha!" said he, "I thought I could bring you! That was loud and strong, wasn't it?"
"You!" Robert inquired. "What do you mean? Did you blow the conch?"
"That I did," he replied; "I blew just as cousin Harold said we must, to bring you all home."
"But, Frank," remonstrated Harold, "the conch sounded an alarm. It said, Something is the matter. Now what was the matter?"
"O, not much," Frank answered, "only I was getting hungry, and thought it was time for you all to come back. That was something, wasn't it?"
"You wicked fellow!" said Robert, provoked out of all patience, to think of their long run. "You have put us to a great deal of trouble. Sister, how came you to let him frighten us so?"
"Really, I could not help it," she replied. "When I went to the spring a little while since, he excused himself from going by saying that he felt tired; but no sooner had I passed below the bluff, than I heard the sound of the conch. I supposed at first it must be Sam, who had become suddenly worse, and was blowing for you to return; so I filled my bucket only half full, and hurried home; when I ascended the bluff I saw the little monkey, with the conch in his hand, blowing away with all his might."
"And didn't it go well?" asked Frank.
The young wag looked so innocent of every intent except fun, and seemed withal to think his trick so clever, that in spite of their discomfort, the boys laughed heartily at the consternation he had produced, and at the half comic, half tragic expression which his face assumed on learning the consequences of his waggery. They gave him a serious lecture, however, upon the subject, and told him that hereafter he must not interfere with the signals. But as he seemed to have such an uncommon aptitude for trumpeting, Harold promised to prepare him a conch for his own use, on condition that he played them no more tricks. Frank was delighted at this, and taking up the horn, blew, as he said, "all sorts of crooked ways," to show what he could do. The boys were astonished. Frank was the most skilful trumpeter of the company; and on being questioned how he acquired the art, replied, that when he and his mother had gone on a visit to one of her friends, during the preceding summer, he and a negro boy used to go after the cows every evening, and blow horns for their amusement.
CHAPTER XXV
A HUNTER'S MISFORTUNE-RELIEF TO A SPRAIN-HOW TO AVOID BEING LOST IN THE WOODS, AND TO RECOVER ONE'S COURSE AFTER BEING LOST-A STILL HUNT
It was remarked by Mary the next morning, that if some one did not go out hunting they should soon be out of provision. "Which for our character as marooners I hope will not be the case," rejoined Harold. "Come, Robert, shall we be hunters today?"
"We cannot do better," Robert languidly replied, "unless we go fishing instead."
"O, do let me go with you," begged Frank. "I am so tired of being cooped up here under this oak tree, and running for ever to the spring and to the oyster bank. I want to go either hunting or fishing."
"Perhaps we can do both," said Mary, perceiving from Robert's looks that he was disinclined to any great exertion. "Cousin Harold can take Frank and go to the woods, while you and I, brother, can catch a mess of fish."
"That will do! O, yes, that is the very plan," Frank exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Then we can run a race to see who shall do best."
The company separated; Harold took Frank and disappeared in the forest, where they were absent several hours, and Robert and Mary went to the oyster bank, where they supplied themselves with bait, and then embarking on the raft, began to fish for sheepshead, near a log imbedded in the mud, and covered with barnacles and young oysters. The success of the fishing party was very good; they soon had a basket half full of fish, and the remainder filled with shrimp.
Not so with the hunters. Robert and Mary were engaged in preparing their prizes for use, when they heard a sharp halloo, and saw Frank emerging from a dense growth of bushes, with the rifle upon his shoulder, followed by Harold, who was limping painfully, and beckoning them to approach.
Washing their hands with haste, Robert and Mary ran to meet them. Harold was seated on a log, looking very pale. Within an hour after leaving the tent he had sprained his ankle, and ever since had been slowly and with great suffering attempting to return. Mary was frightened to see the haggard looks of her cousin, and inquired anxiously what she could do to help him.
"Take the gun, sister," said Robert. "Lean on me, cousin, I will support you to the tent, and then show you the best thing in the world for a sprain."
Mary ran to the tent, put the gun in its place, prepared Harold's couch, and then at Robert's request hurried with Frank to the spring and brought up a bucket of water, by the time that Harold's shoe and stocking had been removed. The ankle was much swollen, and the blood had settled around it in deep blue clouds.
"Now, sister, bring me the coffee pot and a basin."
The basin was placed under the foot, and the coffee pot filled with cool water was used to pour a small stream upon the injured part. This process was continued for half an hour, by which time the inflammation and pain were greatly reduced. It was also repeated several times that day, and once more before retiring to bed, the good effects being manifest on each occasion.
This accident not only confined the whole company at home for the rest of the day, but caused an unpleasant conviction to press heavily upon the mind of Robert-the whole responsibility of supplying the family with food and other necessaries would for a time devolve upon himself. This fact almost made him shudder, for though a willing boy, he was not robust; labour was painful to him; at times he felt a great disinclination to bodily effort, but the greatest difficulty in the way of his success in their present mode of life, was his ignorance of some of the most necessary arts of a hunter.
"Harold," said he, with a rueful face, the next morning, when they had finished talking over the various means for discovering and approaching game in the forest; "to tell you the truth, I am afraid of getting lost in these thick and tangled woods. It is a perfect wonder to me how you can dash on through bush and brier, and turn here and there, as if you knew every step of the way, when, if I were left alone, I should never find my way home at all. Now my head is easily turned, and when I am once lost, I am lost."
"I know exactly what you mean," replied Harold, "and in former times I used to feel the same way. But there are two or three rules which helped me much, and which I will give to you.
"The first is, never allow to yourself that you are lost. Say to yourself that you are mistaken, or that you have taken the wrong course, or anything that you will, but never allow the lost feeling to come over you, so long as you can keep it off.
"When, however, you ascertain that you have unfortunately missed your track, your next rule is to sit down as quietly as possible to determine your course. Most people in such a case become excited, run here and there, at perfect random, and become worse bewildered than before. First do you determine the points of the compass, and then strike for the point you are most certain of reaching. For instance, you know that anywhere on this island the sea lies to the west, and a river to the north. You can surely find either of these places; and when once found you will be no longer in doubt, although you may be far from home."
"But how am I to know the points of the compass?" inquired Robert.
"Easily enough," his cousin replied. "But before speaking of that, let me give you my third rule, which is, never get lost."
Robert laughed. "That is the only rule I want. Give me that and you may have the rest."
"Then," continued Harold, "make it your constant habit to notice the course you travel, and the time you are travelling. Watch the sun, or else the shadows of the trees, and the angle at which you cross them. Early in the morning the shadows are very long, and point west. In the middle of the forenoon, they are about as long as the trees that make them, and all point north-west. And at twelve o'clock they are very short, and point due north. To a woodsman the shadows are both clock and compass; and by keeping your mind on them, you can easily make what the captain would call your dead reckoning."
"But," said Robert, "what would you do on such a day as this, when there is neither sun nor shadow?"
"You must work by another rule," he replied. "Old Torgah gave me three signs for telling the points of the compass, by noticing the limbs, the bark, and the green moss on the trunks of trees well exposed to the sun. Moss, you know, loves the shade, while the bark and limbs grow all the faster for having plenty of light. As a general rule, therefore, you will find the south, or sunny side of a tree marked by large limbs and thick, rough bark, and the north side covered, more or less, with whatever green moss there may be on it.8 Did I ever tell you how these signs helped me once to find my way home?"
Robert replied that he had not. "I was at my uncle's, where I had never been before, in a newly settled part of the country. A small stream ran near his house, and bent considerably around his plantation. Down this stream I followed one day, in search of ducks, and walked several miles before thinking of home. My uncle's house lay due east, and instead of returning the way I went, I determined to take a shorter course through the woods. I had not gone far, however, before a fat squirrel jumped upon a log, within good shooting distance, curled his tail over his back, and sat there barking; he seemed to give me every invitation that a squirrel possibly could to shoot him, and I did so. But it was really curious to see the consequence. Such a barking of squirrels I never heard before in my life. They were all around me, jumping, shaking their tails, and quaw-quawing at such a rate, that it was almost like witchcraft. I killed as many as I could carry, and once more set out for home. But I had completely lost my course; the chase had taken off my mind, and I could tell neither which way I came into the wood, nor how I was to go out of it. My uncle's house I knew lay to the east, and the stream to the north. But which way was east, and which north? The sun was hidden, and the trees were so close and thick, that the moss covered their large trunks on every side, and the limbs and bark for the same reason seemed to be of equal size all round. At last I spied a small tree, that was pretty well exposed to the sun, and the limbs of which were evidently larger, and the bark rougher on one side than on the other; there was also a beautiful tuft of green moss growing at its root, on the side opposite to the large limbs. These signs satisfied me; but to make assurance doubly sure, I cut into the tree far enough to ascertain that the thickest bark was on the roughest side. That one tree was my guide. I struck a straight course for home, and reached it without difficulty. Now, if you take these rules, you can guide yourself anywhere through these woods, in which you will never be more than three or four miles to the east of the sea-shore."
"Thank you, cousin," said Robert; "thank you sincerely. You have relieved my mind from the greatest embarrassment I have felt at the thought of roaming these dark woods alone. Your rules give me confidence; for the very trees that before caused my bewilderment shall now become my guides."
He took his gun, called his dog, and gave a look to Frank, in the expectation that he also would come. But Frank had listened quietly to the preceding conversation, and had as quietly made up his mind not to go. He sat beside the cage, watching the opossum, and took no notice of dog, gun, or look.
"Jump, Frank," said Robert, in a cheering tone; "I am ready to go. Let us see if we cannot find a deer."
"No, I thank you," he soberly replied; "I do not love to get lost. It does not feel pleasant. I had rather stay at home and pour water on cousin Harold's foot."
"Then stay," said Robert, in a disappointed tone; "I forgot that you were a baby."
Harold, however, who knew that Frank was an uncommon pedestrian, and that Robert preferred to have company, whispered to him, "He is not going to lose himself, Frank. I think, too, he will kill some deer, and who knows but he may find another fawn to keep Dora company." Frank seized his cap, and calling out, "Brother! brother! I am coming!" dashed off in pursuit. Fidelle started too, but they returned to tie her up, and to say to Mary that she must not be uneasy if they did not return by dinner-time, as they were unwilling to come without game; then taking some parched corn in their pockets in case of hunger, together with Frank's hatchet and matches, they again set off.
The first business was to visit the turkey baits; at one of which the corn and peas had all disappeared, with evident traces of having been eaten by turkeys. "What a pity we had not brought some more bait," remarked Robert; "Harold says that when they have once found food at a place, they are almost sure to return the next day to look for more. We must share with them our dinner of parched corn."
Renewing the bait, they proceeded in a straight course south, having for their guide the bright clouds that showed the place of the sun to the south-east. Frank was very anxious for Robert to kill some of the many squirrels that frolicked around them. "May be," said he, "if you shoot, they will quaw-quaw for you as they did for Cousin Harold, and then we can go home loaded." But Robert replied that this would be a useless waste of ammunition: that it would probably scare off the deer from the neighbourhood; and that, moreover, his gun was not loaded for such small game.
Hardly had the argument closed before Mum began to smell and snort, here and there, intent upon a confused trail. His motion became soon more steady, and he started off at a pace that made the hunters run to keep in sight. Afraid that at this rate Frank would give out, and that he himself would be too much out of breath to aim surely, or to creep cautiously upon the deer, Robert called out, "Steady, Mum!" The well-trained brute instantly slackened his speed, and keeping only about a rod ahead, went forward at a moderate walk. In this way they followed for a full quarter of a mile, when Robert observed him take his nose from the ground, and walk with noiseless step, keeping his eyes keenly directed forwards. He "steadied" him again by a half whispered command, and kept close at his heels. Soon he saw a pair of antlers peering above a distant thicket, and the brown side of a deer between the branches. Softly ordering Mum to "come in," and noticing that what little wind there was blew so as not to carry their scent to the deer, he said to Frank, "Buddy, if you will remain by this large poplar, I will creep behind yonder thicket, and see if I cannot get a shot. Will you be afraid?"
"No," he replied, "if you do not go too far away."
"I will not go out of hearing," Robert said, "and if you need anything, whistle for me, but do not call. Hide yourself behind this tree, and when you hear me shoot, come as soon as you please."
It was easy to cover his advance behind the dense foliage of a viny bower, until he was quite near. He paused to listen; the rustle of leaves and the sound of stamping feet were distinctly heard. A short but cautious movement gave him a commanding view of the ground. There were three deer feeding within easy reach of his shot. He sprung both barrels, and tried to be deliberate, but in spite of all resolution his heart jumped into his mouth, and his hand shook violently; he had what hunters call "the buck-ague." Steadying his piece against a stout branch, he aimed at the shoulders of the largest, and fired. It fell, with a bound forward. The other deer, instead of darting away, as he expected, turned in apparent surprise to look at the unusual vision of smoke and fire, accompanied by such a noise, when he took deliberate aim with a now steady hand, and fired at the head of the next largest, as it was in the act of springing away.
"Come, Frank! come!" he shouted.
Frank, however, had started at the first report, and was now running at the top of his speed. Robert rushed forward to dye his hand for the first time in the blood of so noble a victim; yet it made him almost shudder to hear the knife grate through the delicate flesh, and to see the rich blood gurgling upon the ground. Had it not been that such butchery was necessary to subsistence, he would have resolved at that moment to repeat it no more.
But what was next to be done? Here were two large deer lying upon the earth. Should he skin and cleanse them there, and attempt to carry home the divided quarters? or should he carry home one deer and return for the other? He decided upon the last. Before proceeding homewards, however, he blazed a number of trees, to show afar off the place of his game; then selecting a tree, as far as he could distinguish in his way, he went towards it, chopping each bush and sapling with his hatchet; and making a broad blaze upon this tree, he selected another in the same line, and proceeded thus until he reached the tent. He had learnt by one-half day's practice to thread the trackless forest with a steadiness of course and a confidence of spirit that were surprising to himself.