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, coa.r.s.e, 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 Sh.e.l.l Bluff, and bring home a supply of conch sh.e.l.ls, 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 pa.s.s 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 sh.e.l.ls 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 "Sh.e.l.l 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 cl.u.s.ter 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 sh.e.l.ls. They were about returning, when their attention was attracted by the sh.e.l.l 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 sh.e.l.l. 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 racc.o.o.n'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 sh.e.l.ls 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, Ma.s.sa," 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;[#] and my name for him is Poor Hope."

[#] That is my place, over the other side.

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 a.s.sist 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