As twilight drew on, the ferryboat went back to her
accustomed business and the skiffs disappeared.
The pirates returned to camp. They were jubilant
with vanity over their new grandeur and the illustrious
trouble they were making. They caught fish, cooked
supper and ate it, and then fell to guessing at what
the village was thinking and saying about them; and
the pictures they drew of the public distress on their
account were gratifying to look upon—from
their point of view. But when the shadows of
night closed them in, they gradually ceased to talk,
and sat gazing into the fire, with their minds evidently
wandering elsewhere. The excitement was gone,
now, and Tom and Joe could not keep back thoughts
of certain persons at home who were not enjoying this
fine frolic as much as they were. Misgivings came;
they grew troubled and unhappy; a sigh or two escaped,
unawares. By and by Joe timidly ventured upon
a roundabout “feeler” as to how the others
might look upon a return to civilization—not
right now, but—
Tom withered him with derision! Huck, being uncommitted
as yet, joined in with Tom, and the waverer quickly
“explained,” and was glad to get out of
the scrape with as little taint of chicken-hearted
homesickness clinging to his garments as he could.
Mutiny was effectually laid to rest for the moment.
As the night deepened, Huck began to nod, and presently
to snore. Joe followed next. Tom lay upon
his elbow motionless, for some time, watching the
two intently. At last he got up cautiously, on
his knees, and went searching among the grass and
the flickering reflections flung by the camp-fire.
He picked up and inspected several large semi-cylinders
of the thin white bark of a sycamore, and finally chose
two which seemed to suit him. Then he knelt by
the fire and painfully wrote something upon each of
these with his “red keel”; one he rolled
up and put in his jacket pocket, and the other he
put in Joe’s hat and removed it to a little
distance from the owner. And he also put into
the hat certain schoolboy treasures of almost inestimable
value—among them a lump of chalk, an India-rubber
ball, three fishhooks, and one of that kind of marbles
known as a “sure ’nough crystal.”
Then he tiptoed his way cautiously among the trees
till he felt that he was out of hearing, and straightway
broke into a keen run in the direction of the sandbar.
CHAPTER XV
A few minutes later Tom was in the shoal water
of the bar, wading toward the Illinois shore.
Before the depth reached his middle he was half-way
over; the current would permit no more wading, now,
so he struck out confidently to swim the remaining
hundred yards. He swam quartering upstream, but
still was swept downward rather faster than he had
expected. However, he reached the shore finally,
and drifted along till he found a low place and drew
himself out. He put his hand on his jacket pocket,
Copyrights
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
