CHAPTER XXII
FRANK AND HIS "PIGS"--THE CAGE--WALK ON THE BEACH--IMMENSE CRAWFISH--THEMUSEUM--NAMING THE ISLAND
Frank's first words the next morning, as in his night-clothes he ranfrom Mary's room, were, "Have you brought my pig?"
"Yes! yes!" they answered, "three of them; and all yoked to boot, sothat they cannot get either into the garden or the cornfield."
Frank did not comprehend this enigmatical language; he hastily dressedand went out. Close to the awning he found the new comers sitting, eachsecured by the novel pillory which Harold had contrived. They were uglylooking creatures, with long, hypocritical faces, coarse, grizzly hair,and an expression of countenance exceedingly contemptible. Frank hadoften seen opossums before, but the fancy name of pigs had caused himmentally to invest them with the neat and comely aspect of the littlegrunters at home. When he hurried from the tent, and saw them in theirnative ugliness, writhing their naked, snakey tails, he turned away withunaffected disgust.
"They are not very pretty," said Harold, watching the changes thatflitted across the little fellow's face.
"No, indeed," he replied; "they are the ugliest things I ever saw. Youmay keep them and feed them yourself; for I will not have them formine."
The unsightly appearance of the opossum excites in many persons aprejudice against its use for the table. But when young and tender, orafter having been kept for several days, its flesh is so nearly in tastelike that of a roast pig, that few persons can distinguish thedifference.
A cage for the captives was soon constructed, of poles several inches indiameter, notched into each other, and approaching at the top like astick trap. The floor was also guarded with poles, to prevent theirburrowing out.
"Now we need one or two troughs for their water and food," observedHarold, after the prisoners, loosed from their neck-locks, had beenintroduced into the airy saloon erected for their accommodation. "Ipropose, therefore, that Mary and Frank shall go with one of us to ShellBluff, and bring home a supply of conch shells, to be converted, as weneed them, into troughs, cups, dippers, and trumpets."
Mary and Frank needed no persuasion to go upon this excursion, after theglowing description given by the boys on their return from the beach.Robert preferred to remain with Sam. The others set off--Harold withhis gun, which, for reasons of policy, was an inseparable companion,Mary with a basket, and Frank with his dog and hatchet. On arriving atthe beach, down which they were to pass for a mile or more, theyoungsters amused themselves for a time with writing names, or makinggrotesque figures in the hard smooth sand; then ran to overtake Harold,who had walked slowly on, watching the sea-gulls plunge after their preyon the surface of the water; for a short distance they went with himside 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 afterwardsemptied for others still more beautiful, before they reached the placewhich the boys had named "Shell Bluff."
The beach at that place was lovely indeed. For half a mile or more itlooked like snow, mottled with rose colour here, and with dark brownthere; while, crowning the bluff above, waved a cluster of tropicalpalmettoes, around whose bases gathered the dark and fragrant cedar.
Again Mary replenished her basket, Frank filled every pocket he had, andhis cap besides, and Harold collected his handkerchief full offine-looking conch shells. They were about returning, when theirattention was attracted by the shell of an enormous crawfish, whose bodyalone 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, andparticularly so with the shell. He said that this was another proof, ifhe needed any other, to show that they were on the western coast ofSouth Florida, for he had often heard of the enormous crawfish thatabounded there, and that were almost equal in size to the lobster.
"Let us be sure, Harold," said he, "to put it beside your oyster, withthe raccoon's foot, as the beginning of a museum gathered from theisland."
"Yes; and our rattlesnake's skin," Frank added.
"And our turkey's tail, and Frank's plume," said Mary. "We have thebeginning of a museum already; for there are besides these things abouttwenty varieties of shells and sea-weeds in this basket, some of which Inever saw before."
Harold was as much interested as any in the idea of a museum; for thoughhe knew nothing of its proper arrangement, he had good sense enough toperceive that it was a very ready means of acquiring and retainingknowledge.
"But the name of this island," said Robert, musing; "I have severaltimes wished that we had one. And why should we not, for who has abetter right to give it a name than we, its only inhabitants?"
He expressed the mind of the whole company, and they soon proceeded tocall upon each other for nominations. "The rule in such cases, I haveheard, 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 herbrother's eye rested on her. "We have certainly been _hoping_ eversince we came, and will continue to hope until we get away."
"Yes, but we sometimes despaired, too," answered Robert, "especially onthe morning after the storm. I have thought of the Caloosa name--theEnchanted Island."
"Please, Massa," Sam implored, "don't call um by dat name. I begin tosee ghosts now; and I 'fraid, if you call um so, I will see ghosts andsperits all de time."
"I think a more suitable name still," said Harold, "is the Island ofRefuge. It has certainly been to us a refuge from the sea, and from thestorm. And if it is the Enchanted Island, of which Riley spoke, it willalso prove a refuge from the Indians, for none will dare to trouble ushere."
Sam declined suggesting any name. He said, pointing across the river tothe 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, asdiscoverers are said to do. And if any person could suggest anappropriate speech I would repeat it on the occasion; but the only wordsI can think of now are,
'Isle of Beauty, fare thee well!'
And much as I admire everything around, I hope ere long to repeat thosewords in truth."