The Wreck of the Red Bird: A Story of the Carolina Coast

At first the boys were disposed to regard this as a mishap, but a moment's reflection convinced them of their error.

"Now that we know that Ned is safe," said Charley, "we have no use for that rascal. We should have set him free in the morning at any rate."

"By the way," said Jack, "what do you make of Ned's performance?"

"I can't make it out at all," said Charley.

"He must have been cut off from camp by the squatters and forced to take refuge out there on the oyster reef."

"No, the squatters came from the other direction, don't you remember? And, besides, Ned didn't know there had been any of them about until we told him."

"I'll explain all that for myself," said Ned from the outside, "if you'll be good enough to take down the gate log and let me in."

This was quickly done, and Ned entered, first pushing in the cast net well filled with fish. As he straightened himself up a glad "hurrah!" came from both his companions, who saw in his hands a turtle weighing at least twenty-five pounds.

"Hurrah! Now we shall have a taste of meat again. Where did you get that fine fellow, Ned?"

"On the oyster reef," answered Ned; "that's how I came to be out there."

"Well, tell us all about it now."

"Oh, there isn't a great deal to tell. When I left camp, I went down along the shore to the east and caught a few fish, but not many. Then I determined to try the other side of the camp. I strung my fish on a limber switch and came back, intending to leave them here before going on; but as I passed I saw that the gate was closed, so I walked around without bothering you fellows, and went on toward the west. I fished along at one place and another, and finally I got to fishing in the shallow water between the oyster reef and the shore, where the mullets seemed to be holding a public meeting or something of that sort. The tide was low then, though it was coming in, and the oyster reef was out of water. Finding that my switches were full of fish, and being nearer the reef than the shore, I thought I'd just take a look over the reef to see if I could find a small turtle. I had seen one out there several days ago, and my mouth watered so for a piece of meat that the thought of turtle made me wild. So, swinging my strings of fish over my neck, I crept about in the moonlight – for the moon showed a little through the trees by that time, – and after a pretty thorough search I spied this fellow scrambling along over the oyster bed. It seemed, from the slow progress he made, that the shells hurt his bare feet as much as they did mine; but that was probably only in appearance, for when he saw me creeping up on him he made better time, and if I hadn't been so bent upon having some meat for breakfast, he would have got away. As it was I forgot my bare feet long enough to catch the gentleman. Then I tried to go ashore, but the tide had come up and I couldn't. That is to say, I couldn't wade ashore, and to swim was to lose my turtle; so I made up my mind to stick it out till the tide turned. I had to stand in water up to my waist at high tide, but I didn't mind that. I wasn't worried till I saw the blaze here at camp, and heard you fellows yelling. I answered, but you stopped calling, so I supposed it was all right. I waited two or three hours longer, till the blaze began to die down. Then you fellows began calling again, and you came to me. You know the rest. I came ashore as soon after you left as the water would let me. Now tell me all about matters here. Where's your prisoner?"

The boys soon recounted the adventures of the night.

"What is the measure of damage?" Ned asked when the story was ended.

"The hut is destroyed," said Charley; "and the tar," added Jack. "We can make another hut in an hour, but the destruction of the tar just as we were ready to use it is a more serious matter."

"Yes, it will delay us a couple of days longer with the boat," said Ned, "and that's a pity. Let's see, this is Wednesday morning – for it's nearly daybreak now. If this hadn't happened we might have got away from here by next Wednesday, – just four weeks from the day we came. Now, however, we shan't get away before the Friday or Saturday following."

"Well, that will be the appointed time," said Charley.

"The appointed time?" asked Ned, "what do you mean?"

"Why, don't you remember? You told Maum Sally we'd be gone a month, and she warned you not to stay a day longer than that."

"Oh, yes, I forgot that! It will be curious, won't it, if we get away Saturday? I hadn't the least thought of staying a week when we came."

"Nor I," said Jack. "If we had suspected what we were coming to we never would have come at all, I imagine."

"I don't know about that," said Charley, doubtfully. "We came for adventures, and we've had them, if I know what such things are. And we've really had a good deal of fun."

"That's true," said Ned; "we couldn't expect to sleep on feather beds, or to have much luxury of any kind on such an expedition. And, after all, our little hardships haven't hurt us. My foot is about well now, and your dog-bite, Charley, is in a fair way to heal. So, if we get away safely we're all the better for the trip. It will all seem like fun when we get back to school and think about it."

"I dare say we've sharpened our wits a trifle too," said Jack. "We've learned how to take care of ourselves in the woods, and we shall be a good deal quicker and sounder in our thinking for this experience."

"Well, it's clear that we are not sufficiently sharpened up yet," said Charley, "or else some one of us would have seen before this precisely what the fire has done for us."

"What is it, Charley?"

"Why, every grain of rice that we had in the world was in the hut, and of course it is all burnt up."

"The mischief!" exclaimed Ned.

"That's a calamity," added Jack, "but we must get more to-day."

"Yes," said Ned, "if the squatters haven't gathered it all."

"Don't let us meet trouble half way," said Jack; "it will be time enough to give up the rice when we find that we can't get it. Meantime, let's have some turtle steak for breakfast. Then we'll see what is to be done."

In spite of the lack of rice and all other substitutes for bread, the boys enjoyed the broiled turtle more than any thing they had eaten for a fortnight at least.

After breakfast they "scouted" a little, to make sure that there were none of the squatters on their side of the island. Then Charley climbed a tall tree, the plan being that he should watch for squatters while Ned and Jack should gather rice, so that they might not be surprised at their work.

The rice had been cut, and very little remained of it; but here and there a little clump of it was still standing in the grass and bushes around the patch, and a hard morning's work enabled the boys to secure enough of these gleanings to last them for ten or twelve days.

CHAPTER XXI

CHARLEY'S SECRET EXPEDITION

While Charley sat in the tree-top scanning the island in search of possible squatters who might interfere with the gathering of the rice, he saw something else that put a new idea into his head, and before his watch was done he had quite made up his mind to do something brilliant which would surprise and delight his companions.

What he saw was nothing more remarkable than a calf, or rather a young bull, perhaps a year old, browsing in the edge of a thicket half a mile or more to the west of the camp, and not many hundreds of yards from the shore. There is nothing remarkable in such a sight as that, but the circumstances of this case were peculiar, and so the sight set Charley, thinking.

In the first place, he remembered what Ned had told him and Jack about the wild cattle on the island, and reflecting that it had been a good many years since the original stock of animals were abandoned, he could not help regarding this yearling bullock as something more than a mere bullock. It was game; a wild animal roaming at will over unoccupied lands, and to kill it would be quite as good sport as deer-stalking or bear-hunting.

Then, too, Charley and his companions were really in sore need of meat. An exclusive diet of fish, oysters, and other such things soon wearies the palate, and becomes exceedingly distasteful. It is true that Ned's turtle had somewhat broken this monotony, but the relief had been only partial, and the boys very eagerly craved meat – beef, mutton, or pork. They had made no effort to get such meat, only because they had no idea that any such was to be had.

The snake dinner had never been repeated. It is true that the snake was savory, and the boys had spoken truthfully when they declared themselves pleased with it. But that was while their hunger lasted, and when they had finished they had no longer a keen appetite to oppose to prejudice, so that, with full stomachs, the old objections returned, and all three boys were seized with a peculiar loathing for the food they had eaten. Perhaps it was only because they had eaten too much; but, whatever the reason was, the fact remained that they were all sickened by the thought of what they had eaten, and, while they said nothing about this feeling, no one of them ever proposed to repeat the experiment of eating snake.

Now Charley meant to have an abundance of meat against which no such objection could be urged. Here was a fat young steer whose beef was to be had for the taking. How to get it was at first a perplexing question. There was no gun with which to shoot the bullock, and there were no dogs in camp with which to chase it; but after some reflection Master Charley was confident that he could kill the animal with the means at disposal.

He said nothing about either his discovery or his purpose when his companions returned to camp, because he wished to give them a complete surprise.

He merely said that he wanted to make a little hunting expedition, and that perhaps he might succeed in knocking over a rabbit or some other animal good to eat. His companions had little hope of any such good luck, but they offered no objection, and Charley, arming himself with the hunting-knife and the hatchet, set forth on his quest.

He found the bullock not far from the place at which he had seen it before, quietly browsing in the edge of the timber. After carefully reconnoitering the position, Charley went into the woods and crept upon the animal very cautiously through the thick undergrowth. His plan was to creep up in this way until he should be within a few feet of his prey, and then, springing forward suddenly, to strike the bullock between his young horns with the hatchet. Charley had seen a butcher kill a large steer by a comparatively slight blow, delivered at the right place on the animal's head, and he was very sure that he knew where to strike.

As he crept up he carefully avoided making any kind of noise, but when within a dozen feet of the place from which he meant to spring, he made a misstep, broke a stick, and alarmed the bullock, which quietly trotted away.

Charley was disappointed, but by no means disheartened. He had only to begin over again, and proceed more cautiously next time. He crept very slowly and consumed nearly half an hour in his approach. This time he broke no sticks and made no noise of any kind. Nearer and nearer he drew. He could hear the bullock's breathing, but still he must get nearer. A log lay just in front of him, and he could not well spring over it before striking, without alarming the animal and missing his aim. He must creep around this obstruction first, and this he did successfully, but the bullock, though not alarmed, moved away just before Charley reached a position from which to strike. It did not run, but quietly walked away to nibble some grass which grew at a spot a dozen paces distant.

This second disappointment shook Charley's already strained nerves considerably, but, impatient as he now was, he controlled himself and resumed his silent advance. Luckily the animal's head was turned directly away from him, and that fact greatly lessened the danger of his discovery. His chance was now so good, indeed, that a few moments more might have brought his attempt to a completely successful issue, if he had been content to follow his original plan. But just as he was in the act of springing forward to deliver his blow, with every prospect of success, a new thought struck Charley. It was easy to spring upon the bullock's back, and from that point Charley thought he could deal not one, but many successive blows, thus making sure work of what might not otherwise be sure.

Accordingly he leaped upon the animal's back, and as he did so the startled creature sprang forward through the bushes, nearly unseating his rider. The blow which Charley tried to deliver was a disastrous failure. He missed the brute's head, and the hatchet slipping from his hand, was hurled into the thicket.

Charley had no time to think of the hatchet, however. The infuriated bullock plunged headlong through the thicket and then across an open glade and into the woods again, going in the direction of the camp, and Charley had all that he could do to keep his seat. He was beaten black and blue by the saplings encountered; his face was scratched, and his clothes torn almost to shreds. Still, seeing that the bullock was going toward the camp, he held on, with an unreasoning impression that, once at the camp, the animal would be secured.