|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 13
"By gosh!" said another, "I've a good notion to fetch my
musket, and have a slap into them. Shall I, corporal?"
"Certainly not, Green," was the answer. "If it was known
in the Fort I had permitted any of the party to fire, I
should be broke, if I did'nt get picketed for my pains,
and none of us would ever get out again."
"No great harm in that, either," said the man who had
made the novel observation that Rome had not been built
in a day.
The corporal looked sharply at the last speaker, as if
not fully comprehending his meaning.
"Jackson means no great harm if we never got out again,"
interposed Collins, "and I think as he does, for I see
no fun in rowing four or five miles to fish, and scarcely
getting a sight of one."
"Well, but Collins, that's not always our luck. I'm sure
we've had sport enough before. It must be because the
weather's rather cold today, that the fish won't bite."
"It's of no use his grumbling, Philips," remarked Corporal
Nixon, "we're here, not so much for own sport as on a
duty for the garrison. Let me hear no more of this,
Collins."
"Well, corporal that's true enough," said Green, "but
dash me if it isn't temptin' to see them fellows there
stealin' upon us, and we lookin' on, and doin' nothin'."
"What fellows do you mean?" inquired the corporal, suddenly
starting to his feet, and looking down the river.
"Why, them ducks to be sure, see how they come sailin'
up to us, as if they knowed all about the captin's
order--no jumpin' or friskin' now, but all of a heap
like."
"Yes, but I say, what's that black looking thing beyond
the ducks?" asked one who had not hitherto spoken, pointing
his finger.
"Where, where, Weston?" exclaimed one or two voices, and
the speakers looked in the direction indicated.
"Hang me if it isn't a bear," said Collins in a low,
anxious tone; "that's the chap that has sent the ducks
so near us. Do let me have a crack at him, corporal. He's
large enough to supply us all with fresh meat for three
days, and will make up for the bad fishing. Only one shy,
corporal, and I engage not to miss him"
Sure enough, there was, in the centre of the stream, a
dark object, nearly half a mile distant, which all joined
in pronouncing to be a bear. It was swimming vigorously
across to their aide of the river.
"I think we might take him as he lands," observed Green.
"What say you, corporal; I reckon you'll let us try THAT,
if you won't let us fire?"
"Stay all where you are," was the reply. "I can manage
him myself with a spear, if I can only be in time before
he reaches the shore. If not, it's no matter, for I won't
allow a trigger to be pulled."
Corporal Nixon was a tall, active, strong-limbed Virginian.
He soon cleared the space that separated them from the
boat, and jumping to the stern, seized one of the fishing
spears, and then moved on through: the wood that densely
skirted the bank. But he had not been five minutes gone
when he again made his appearance, not immediately by
the half-formed path he had previously taken, but by a
slight detour to the rear.
"Hist, hist," he said in an audible whisper, as soon as
he saw that he was perceived, motioning at the same time
with his hand to enjoin silence, and concealment. Then,
beckoning to Weston to join him; he again moved along
the path with the light tread of one who fears to alarm
an object unconscious of interruption.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|