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.
After breakfast they went whooping and prancing out on the bar,and chased each other round and round,shedding clothes as they went, until they were naked,and then continued the frolic far away up the shoal water of the bar,against the stiff current,which latter tripped their legs from under them from time to time and greatly increased the fun. And now and then they stooped in a group and splashed water in each other’s faces with their palms, gradually approaching each other, with averted faces to avoid the strangling sprays, and finally gripping and struggling till the best man ducked his neighbor, and then they all went under in a tangle of white legs and arms and came up blowing, sputtering, laughing, and gasping for breath at one and the same time.
When they were well exhausted,they would run out and sprawl on the dry, hot sand,and lie there and cover themselves up with it,and by and by break for the water again and go through the original performance once more. Finally it occurred to them that their naked skin represented flesh-colored “tights” very fairly; so they drew a ring in the sand and had a circus—with three clowns in it, for none would yield this proudest post to his neighbor.
Next they got their marbles and played “knucks” and “ringtaw” and “keeps” till that amusement grew stale. Then Joe and Huck had another swim, but Tom would not venture, because he found that in kicking off his trousers he had kicked his string of rattlesnake rattles off his ankle, and he wondered how he had escaped cramp so long without the protection of this mysterious charm. He did not venture again until he had found it, and by that time the other boys were tired and ready to rest. They gradually wandered apart, dropped into the “dumps,” and fell to gazing longingly across the wide river to where the village lay drowsing in the sun. Tom found himself writing “BECKY” in the sand with his big toe; he scratched it out, and was angry with himself for his weakness. But he wrote it again, nevertheless; he could not help it. He erased it once more and then took himself out of temptation by driving the other boys together and joining them.
But Joe’s spirits had gone down almost beyond resurrection.He was so homesick that he could hardly endure the misery of it.The tears lay very near the surface.Huck was melancholy, too. Tom was downhearted,but tried hard not to show it.He had a secret which he was not ready to tell, yet,but if this mutinous depression was not broken up soon,he would have to bring it out. He said,with a great show of cheerfulness:
“I bet there’s been pirates on this island before, boys.We’ll explore it again.They’ve hid treasures here somewhere.How’d you feel to light on a rotten chest full of gold and silver—hey?”
But it roused only faint enthusiasm, which faded out,with no reply. Tom tried one or two other seductions;but they failed, too. It was discouraging work.Joe sat poking up the sand with a stick and looking very gloomy. Finally he said:
“Oh, boys, let’s give it up. I want to go home. It’s so lonesome.”
“Oh no, Joe, you’ll feel better by and by,” said Tom.“Just think of the fishing that’s here.”
“I don’t care for fishing. I want to go home.”
“But, Joe, there ain’t such another swimming-place anywhere. ”
“Swimming’s no good. I don’t seem to care for it,somehow, when there ain’t anybody to say I sha’n’t go in. I mean to go home.”
“Oh, shucks!Baby!You want to see your mother, I reckon.”
“Yes, I _do_ want to see my mother—and you would, too,if you had one. I ain’t any more baby than you are.” And Joe snuffled a little.
“Well, we’ll let the crybaby go home to his mother, won’t we, Huck?Poor thing—does it want to see its mother?And so it shall. You like it here, don’t you, Huck?We’ll stay, won’t we?”
Huck said, “Y-e-s”—without any heart in it.
“I’ll never speak to you again as long as I live,” said Joe, rising. “There now!” And he moved moodily away and began to dress himself.
“Who cares!” said Tom. “Nobody wants you to.Go ’long home and get laughed at. Oh,you’re a nice pirate. Huck and me ain’t crybabies.We’ll stay, won’t we, Huck?Let him go if he wants to.I reckon we can get along without him, per’aps.”
But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless,and was alarmed to see Joe go sullenly on with his dressing.And then it was discomforting to see Huck eying Joe’s preparations so wistfully, and keeping up such an ominous silence. Presently, without a parting word, Joe began to wade off toward the Illinois shore. Tom’s heart began to sink. He glanced at Huck. Huck could not bear the look, and dropped his eyes. Then he said:
“I want to go, too, Tom.It was getting so lonesome anyway,and now it’ll be worse. Let’s us go, too, Tom.”
“I won’t!You can all go, if you want to. I mean to stay.”
“Tom, I better go.”
“Well, go ’long—who’s hendering you.”
Huck began to pick up his scattered clothes. He said:
“Tom, I wisht you’d come, too. Now you think it over.We’ll wait for you when we get to shore.”
“Well, you’ll wait a blame long time, that’s all.”
Huck started sorrowfully away,and Tom stood looking after him,with a strong desire tugging at his heart to yield his pride and go along too.He hoped the boys would stop,but they still waded slowly on.It suddenly dawned on Tom that it was become very lonely and still.He made one final struggle with his pride,and then darted after his comrades, yelling:
“Wait!Wait!I want to tell you something!”
They presently stopped and turned around.When he got to where they were,he began unfolding his secret,and they listened moodily till at last they saw the “point” he was driving at,and then they set up a warwhoop of applause and said it was “splendid!” and said if he had told them at first,they wouldn’t have started away.He made a plausible excuse;but his real reason had been the fear that not even the secret would keep them with him any very great length of time, and so he had meant to hold it in reserve as a last seduction.
The lads came gayly back and went at their sports again with a will,chattering all the time about Tom’s stupendous plan and admiring the genius of it. After a dainty egg and fish dinner, Tom said he wanted to learn to smoke, now. Joe caught at the idea and said he would like to try, too. So Huck made pipes and filled them. These novices had never smoked anything before but cigars made of grapevine, and they “bit” the tongue, and were not considered manly anyway.
Now they stretched themselves out on their elbows and began to puff,charily, and with slender confidence.The smoke had an unpleasant taste,and they gagged a little, but Tom said:
“Why, it’s just as easy!If I’d a knowed this was all, I’d a learnt long ago.”
“So would I,” said Joe. “It’s just nothing.”
“Why, many a time I’ve looked at people smoking,and thought well I wish I could do that;but I never thought I could,” said Tom.
“That’s just the way with me, hain’t it, Huck?You’ve heard me talk just that way—haven’t you, Huck?I’ll leave it to Huck if I haven’t.”
“Yes—heaps of times,” said Huck.
“Well, I have too,” said Tom; “oh, hundreds of times.Once down by the slaughter-house. Don’t you remember, Huck?Bob Tanner was there, and Johnny Miller,and Jeff Thatcher, when I said it. Don’t you remember,Huck, ’bout me saying that?”
“Yes, that’s so,” said Huck.“That was the day after I lost a white alley. No,’twas the day before.”
“There—I told you so,” said Tom. “Huck recollects it.”