CHAPTER IX.
WEARY WAITING.
The days seemed very long to Tom and Joe and little Judie after Sam lefton his journey. They had nothing to do but to sit still in their cornersamong the roots all day, and time always drags very slowly when peopleare doing nothing. Their provisions, as we know, were alreadycooked,--enough of them at least, to last a week, and before Sam left hehad made them bring more than a bushel of sweet potatoes and all thecorn they could find which was still soft enough to eat, and store itaway for use if his return should be delayed in any way. The result wasthat their legs got no stretching, and they became moody, dispirited andunhappy before the second day of Sam's absence had come to an end. Theyfound doing nothing the hardest and the dullest work they ever had donein their lives. Joe managed to sleep most of the time, but Tom wasnervous, and poor little Judie, without Sam to depend upon, grewlow-spirited and began to fear all sorts of evil things. Finally Sam'sweek was up and Sam had not appeared. The little people were now fairlyfrightened. What had become of him? they wondered. Had he fallen intothe hands of the Indians? And if so, what were they to do now? They hadnever before known how dependent they were upon him. Even during hisabsence they had been regulating their lives by his minute instructions,and depending upon him for guidance after he should return. But what ifhe should never return? And why hadn't he come already? These thoughtswere too much for them. Judie sat in her corner brooding over hertrouble, and crying a little now and then. Joe was simply frightened,and his eyes grew bigger and rounder than ever. Tom was sustained inpart by the thought that the burden of responsibility was now on him,and so he suppressed all manifestations of uneasiness, as well as hecould, and gave himself up to the duty of studying the situation,calculating his resources and trying to decide what was the best thingto be done if Sam should not come back at all. He hit upon severalexcellent ideas, but made up his mind that before trying to put any ofthem into practice he would wait at least a fortnight longer for Sam'sreturn. Their stock of provisions, eaten raw, would last much longerthan that, and the fields were full of sweet potatoes, wherefore hewisely thought it best not to lose any chance of having Sam to do thethinking and planning. He was so anxious for his brother's return thathe spent the greater part of his time on the drift-pile where he hadbuilt himself a little observatory, so arranged that he could see inevery direction without the possibility of being seen in his turn.
Sitting there in his look-out, watching for Sam, he had time to think ofmany things. His thinking was not always wise, as a matter of course,but for a boy of his age it did very well, certainly, and one day he hitupon a really valuable idea.
The way it came about was this. He fell into a reverie, and rememberedthe happy old days at home, and one day in particular, when he was busyall day making a little wagon in which to give Judie a ride, and heremembered how very short that day seemed, although it was in June. Justthen it popped into his head to think that there was a reason foreverything, and that that day had seemed so short only because he hadbeen very busy as its hours went by. If he had known what"generalization" means, he would have generalized this truth asfollows:--
"Time passes rapidly with busy people." He did nothing of the kind,however. He only thought.
"If poor little Judie had something to keep her busy all the time, shewouldn't be so miserable."
And so he cudgelled his brains to invent some plan or other by which toset Judie at work and keep her at it all the time.
When he returned to the fortress towards night, he said to the littlewoman; "Judie, I reckon poor Sam's foot is troubling him again, andthat's the reason he hasn't got back yet. He'll work along slowly andget here after a while, but I'm afraid he'll be dreadfully tired andsick when he comes. We must have a good soft bed ready for him so thathe can get a good rest."
To this Judie assented, though in her heart she feared she should neversee Sam again, as indeed Tom did too, though neither would admit thefact to the other.
"Now I've been thinking," said Tom, "that it wont do, if he comes backhalf sick, to let him lie on green moss with all the outside on. Let meshow you."
And taking a strand of the long moss he scraped the greenish grayoutside off, leaving a black strand like a horse hair.
"There," he said, "Sam told me once that it's the soft outside part thatholds water, while the inside is dry almost always. Now why can't wescrape the outside off of a great deal of moss and have the dry insideready for Sam to sleep on when he comes back? It'll surprise him andhe'll be glad too. He never cared for himself much, but he'll be glad tosee that we care for him."
The plan pleased little Judie wonderfully well. She was always delightedto do anything for Sam, and now that she was uneasy about him, and keptthinking of him as dead or dying or sick somewhere, and could hardlykeep her tears back, nothing could have pleased her so well as to workfor his comfort. Tom and Joe went out after dark, and brought in a largelot of moss, and the next morning all went to work, Judie made verylittle progress with her scraping, but she kept steadily at it, and itserved its purpose in making her less miserable than before. The dayspassed more rapidly to Tom and Joe, too, and the whole party grew morecheerful under the influence of work. It was now ten days, however,since Sam had gone away, and his non-appearance was really alarming.When work stopped for the night, the thought of Sam was uppermost in theminds of all three, and for the first time they talked freely of thematter.
Tom was disposed to cheer himself by cheering the others, and so heexplained:
"It's about forty-five miles to where Fort Mims stood, so Sam told me,and he said he might go nearly that far, if he didn't see Indians. If hewent only thirty-five miles it would take him four or five nights; sayfive nights, and five more to come back would make ten. But may be hisfoot got sore, or Indians got in the way, and so it has taken him longerthan he thought. I don't think we ought to be uneasy even if he shouldstay two weeks in all."
That was all very well as a theory, and true enough too, but Tom wasuneasy, nevertheless, and so were Joe and Judie. The worst of it wasthat none of them could hide the fact. The eleventh day came, and withit came an excitement. Tom was the first to wake, and without waitingfor the others, he proceeded to make his breakfast off an ear of rawcorn, which was almost hard enough to grind, and altogether too hard tobe eaten as green corn at any well-regulated table. Tom ate it, however,having nothing better, and when Judie waked he offered her a softer ear,which he had carefully selected and laid aside. Judie tried but couldn'teat it. She was faint and almost sick, and found it impossible toswallow the raw corn.
"Poor little sister," said Tom. "If I had any fire I'd roast a potatofor you to-day anyhow, but the fire's all out and I can't."
"Mas' Tom!" said Joe, "I'll tell you what! I dun see a heap o' foxgrapes down dar by de creek, an' I'se gwine to git some for Miss Judiequicker'n you kin count ten." And so saying Joe ran first to thelook-out, to make a preliminary reconnoissance. The boys rarely everleft the trees during the daytime, and when they did so they werecareful first to satisfy themselves that there were no savages in theneighborhood. The creek, of which Joe spoke, emptied into the river ashort distance above the root fortress, and, along its banks was a densemass of undergrowth, which skirted the river below, all the way to thedrift-pile. Joe had seen the grapes from the look-out, and had plannedan excursion after them. He could follow the river bank to the creek,keeping in the bushes and moving cautiously, and if any Indians shouldappear he could retreat in the same way, without discovery. Tired of rawcorn and sweet potatoes, the grapes had tempted him sorely, and it onlyneeded Judie's longing for a change of diet to induce him, to make thisforaging expedition.