He had to keep still long after she went to bed, for
she kept making broken-hearted ejaculations from time
to time, tossing unrestfully, and turning over.
But at last she was still, only moaning a little in
her sleep. Now the boy stole out, rose gradually
by the bedside, shaded the candle-light with his hand,
and stood regarding her. His heart was full of
pity for her. He took out his sycamore scroll
and placed it by the candle. But something occurred
to him, and he lingered considering. His face
lighted with a happy solution of his thought; he put
the bark hastily in his pocket. Then he bent
over and kissed the faded lips, and straightway made
his stealthy exit, latching the door behind him.
He threaded his way back to the ferry landing, found
nobody at large there, and walked boldly on board
the boat, for he knew she was tenantless except that
there was a watchman, who always turned in and slept
like a graven image. He untied the skiff at the
stern, slipped into it, and was soon rowing cautiously
upstream. When he had pulled a mile above the
village, he started quartering across and bent himself
stoutly to his work. He hit the landing on the
other side neatly, for this was a familiar bit of
work to him. He was moved to capture the skiff,
arguing that it might be considered a ship and therefore
legitimate prey for a pirate, but he knew a thorough
search would be made for it and that might end in
revelations. So he stepped ashore and entered
the woods.
He sat down and took a long rest, torturing himself
meanwhile to keep awake, and then started warily down
the home-stretch. The night was far spent.
It was broad daylight before he found himself fairly
abreast the island bar. He rested again until
the sun was well up and gilding the great river with
its splendor, and then he plunged into the stream.
A little later he paused, dripping, upon the threshold
of the camp, and heard Joe say:
“No, Tom’s true-blue, Huck, and he’ll
come back. He won’t desert. He knows
that would be a disgrace to a pirate, and Tom’s
too proud for that sort of thing. He’s
up to something or other. Now I wonder what?”
“Well, the things is ours, anyway, ain’t
they?”
Pretty near, but not yet, Huck. The writing says
they are if he ain’t back here to breakfast.”
“Which he is!” exclaimed Tom, with fine
dramatic effect, stepping grandly into camp.
A sumptuous breakfast of bacon and fish was shortly
provided, and as the boys set to work upon it, Tom
recounted (and adorned) his adventures. They
were a vain and boastful company of heroes when the
tale was done. Then Tom hid himself away in a
shady nook to sleep till noon, and the other pirates
got ready to fish and explore.
CHAPTER XVI
After dinner all the gang turned out to hunt
for turtle eggs on the bar. They went about poking
sticks into the sand, and when they found a soft place
they went down on their knees and dug with their hands.
Sometimes they would take fifty or sixty eggs out of
one hole. They were perfectly round white things
a trifle smaller than an English walnut. They
had a famous fried-egg feast that night, and another
on Friday morning.
Copyrights
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
