Chapter 14

9 min

When Tom awoke in the morning, he wondered where he was. He sat up and rubbed his eyes and looked around. Then he comprehended. It was the cool gray dawn, and there was a delicious sense of repose and peace in the deep pervading calm and silence of the woods. Not a leaf stirred; not a sound obtruded upon great Nature’s meditation. Beaded dewdrops stood upon the leaves and grasses. A white layer of ashes covered the fire, and a thin blue breath of smoke rose straight into the air. Joe and Huck still slept.

When Tom woke up in the morning, he wondered where he was. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked around. Then he understood. It was the cool gray dawn. The deep calm and silence of the woods brought a wonderful feeling of rest and peace. Not a leaf stirred. Not a sound disturbed Nature’s quiet thoughts. Dewdrops clung like beads to the leaves and grass. A white layer of ash covered the fire, and a thin blue wisp of smoke rose straight into the air. Joe and Huck were still asleep.

Now, far away in the woods a bird called; another answered; presently the hammering of a woodpecker was heard. Gradually the cool dim gray of the morning whitened, and as gradually sounds multiplied and life manifested itself. The marvel of Nature shaking off sleep and going to work unfolded itself to the musing boy. A little green worm came crawling over a dewy leaf, lifting two-thirds of his body into the air from time to time and “sniffing around,” then proceeding again—for he was measuring, Tom said; and when the worm approached him, of its own accord, he sat as still as a stone, with his hopes rising and falling, by turns, as the creature still came toward him or seemed inclined to go elsewhere; and when at last it considered a painful moment with its curved body in the air and then came decisively down upon Tom’s leg and began a journey over him, his whole heart was glad—for that meant that he was going to have a new suit of clothes—without the shadow of a doubt a gaudy piratical uniform. Now a procession of ants appeared, from nowhere in particular, and went about their labors; one struggled manfully by with a dead spider five times as big as itself in its arms, and lugged it straight up a tree-trunk. A brown spotted lady-bug climbed the dizzy height of a grass blade, and Tom bent down close to it and said, “Lady-bug, lady-bug, fly away home, your house is on fire, your children’s alone,” and she took wing and went off to see about it—which did not surprise the boy, for he knew of old that this insect was credulous about conflagrations, and he had practised upon its simplicity more than once. A tumblebug came next, heaving sturdily at its ball, and Tom touched the creature, to see it shut its legs against its body and pretend to be dead. The birds were fairly rioting by this time. A catbird, the Northern mocker, lit in a tree over Tom’s head, and trilled out her imitations of her neighbors in a rapture of enjoyment; then a shrill jay swept down, a flash of blue flame, and stopped on a twig almost within the boy’s reach, cocked his head to one side and eyed the strangers with a consuming curiosity; a gray squirrel and a big fellow of the “fox” kind came skurrying along, sitting up at intervals to inspect and chatter at the boys, for the wild things had probably never seen a human being before and scarcely knew whether to be afraid or not. All Nature was wide awake and stirring, now; long lances of sunlight pierced down through the dense foliage far and near, and a few butterflies came fluttering upon the scene.

Far away in the woods, a bird called. Another answered. Soon the tapping of a woodpecker could be heard. Gradually, the cool, dim gray of morning grew lighter. Just as gradually, sounds multiplied and life began to stir. The thoughtful boy watched the wonder of Nature waking from sleep and getting to work. A little green worm crawled across a leaf wet with dew. Every so often, he lifted two-thirds of his body into the air, “sniffing around,” before moving on. He was measuring, Tom said. When the worm approached Tom on its own, the boy sat as still as a stone. His hopes rose and fell as the creature came toward him or seemed ready to turn away. At last, the worm paused for an agonizing moment, his curved body raised in the air. Then he came down firmly on Tom’s leg and began crawling over him. Tom’s heart filled with joy, because that meant he was going to get a new suit of clothes. Without a shadow of a doubt, it would be a flashy pirate uniform. Now a procession of ants appeared from nowhere in particular and went about their work. One struggled bravely past, carrying a dead spider five times its own size in its arms. It dragged the spider straight up a tree trunk. A brown, spotted ladybug climbed to the dizzying height of a blade of grass. Tom bent down close and said, “Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home, your house is on fire, your children’s alone.” She spread her wings and flew off to see about it. This did not surprise the boy. He had long known that this insect easily believed stories about fires. He had taken advantage of her gullibility more than once. A dung beetle came next, pushing hard against its ball. Tom touched the creature to watch it tuck its legs against its body and pretend to be dead. By now, the birds were making quite a racket. A catbird, the Northern mimic, landed in a tree above Tom’s head. She sang her imitations of her neighbors with wild delight. Then a shrieking jay swooped down like a flash of blue flame. He landed on a twig almost within the boy’s reach. He tilted his head and studied the strangers with intense curiosity. A gray squirrel and a big squirrel of the “fox” kind came scampering along. They stopped now and then to sit up, inspect the boys, and chatter at them. The wild creatures had probably never seen a human being before and hardly knew whether to be afraid. All Nature was wide awake and moving now. Long spears of sunlight pierced the thick leaves, near and far. A few butterflies fluttered into view.

Tom stirred up the other pirates and they all clattered away with a shout, and in a minute or two were stripped and chasing after and tumbling over each other in the shallow limpid water of the white sandbar. They felt no longing for the little village sleeping in the distance beyond the majestic waste of water. A vagrant current or a slight rise in the river had carried off their raft, but this only gratified them, since its going was something like burning the bridge between them and civilization.

Tom got the other pirates moving, and they all ran off noisily with a shout. Within a minute or two, they were naked, chasing one another and tumbling over each other in the sandbar’s shallow, clear water. They felt no longing for the little village sleeping far away beyond the vast, majestic stretch of water. A stray current or a slight rise in the river had carried off their raft. But losing the raft only pleased them, since it was something like burning the bridge between them and civilization.

They came back to camp wonderfully refreshed, glad-hearted, and ravenous; and they soon had the camp-fire blazing up again. Huck found a spring of clear cold water close by, and the boys made cups of broad oak or hickory leaves, and felt that water, sweetened with such a wildwood charm as that, would be a good enough substitute for coffee. While Joe was slicing bacon for breakfast, Tom and Huck asked him to hold on a minute; they stepped to a promising nook in the river-bank and threw in their lines; almost immediately they had reward. Joe had not had time to get impatient before they were back again with some handsome bass, a couple of sun-perch and a small catfish—provisions enough for quite a family. They fried the fish with the bacon, and were astonished; for no fish had ever seemed so delicious before. They did not know that the quicker a fresh-water fish is on the fire after he is caught the better he is; and they reflected little upon what a sauce open-air sleeping, open-air exercise, bathing, and a large ingredient of hunger make, too.

They came back to camp wonderfully refreshed, happy, and starving. Soon they had the campfire blazing again. Huck found a spring of clear, cold water nearby, and the boys made cups from broad oak or hickory leaves. They felt that water flavored with such woodland magic would make a fine substitute for coffee. While Joe was slicing bacon for breakfast, Tom and Huck asked him to wait a minute. They went to a promising spot on the riverbank and cast their lines. Almost immediately, they caught something. Before Joe had time to get impatient, they returned with some fine bass, a couple of sunfish, and a small catfish. They had enough food for a whole family. They fried the fish with the bacon and were amazed. No fish had ever tasted so delicious before. They did not know that the sooner a freshwater fish is cooked after being caught, the better it tastes. And they gave little thought to the seasoning supplied by sleeping and exercising outdoors, swimming, and a generous helping of hunger.

They lay around in the shade, after breakfast, while Huck had a smoke, and then went off through the woods on an exploring expedition. They tramped gayly along, over decaying logs, through tangled underbrush, among solemn monarchs of the forest, hung from their crowns to the ground with a drooping regalia of grape-vines. Now and then they came upon snug nooks carpeted with grass and jeweled with flowers.

After breakfast, they lounged in the shade while Huck had a smoke, then headed into the woods to explore. They walked cheerfully over rotting logs, through tangled undergrowth, and among the tall, stately kings of the forest. Grapevines draped the trees like royal robes, hanging from their tops to the ground. Now and then, they found cozy spots carpeted with grass and dotted with flowers like jewels.

They found plenty of things to be delighted with, but nothing to be astonished at. They discovered that the island was about three miles long and a quarter of a mile wide, and that the shore it lay closest to was only separated from it by a narrow channel hardly two hundred yards wide. They took a swim about every hour, so it was close upon the middle of the afternoon when they got back to camp. They were too hungry to stop to fish, but they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, and then threw themselves down in the shade to talk. But the talk soon began to drag, and then died. The stillness, the solemnity that brooded in the woods, and the sense of loneliness, began to tell upon the spirits of the boys. They fell to thinking. A sort of undefined longing crept upon them. This took dim shape, presently—it was budding homesickness. Even Finn the Red-Handed was dreaming of his doorsteps and empty hogsheads. But they were all ashamed of their weakness, and none was brave enough to speak his thought.

They found plenty of things to delight them, but nothing to amaze them. The island was about three miles long and a quarter of a mile wide. A narrow channel, hardly two hundred yards wide, separated it from the nearest shore. They went swimming about every hour, so it was nearly midafternoon when they returned to camp. They were too hungry to stop and fish, but they feasted on cold ham. Then they stretched out in the shade to talk. But the conversation soon slowed and finally stopped. The stillness, the deep hush hanging over the woods, and the loneliness began to weigh on the boys. They grew thoughtful. A vague longing crept over them. Before long, that longing began to take shape. They were starting to feel homesick. Even Finn the Red-Handed was dreaming of the doorsteps and empty barrels where he slept. But they were all ashamed of their weakness, and none was brave enough to say what he was thinking.

For some time, now, the boys had been dully conscious of a peculiar sound in the distance, just as one sometimes is of the ticking of a clock which he takes no distinct note of. But now this mysterious sound became more pronounced, and forced a recognition. The boys started, glanced at each other, and then each assumed a listening attitude. There was a long silence, profound and unbroken; then a deep, sullen boom came floating down out of the distance.

For some time, the boys had been vaguely aware of a strange sound in the distance. It was like hearing a clock ticking without really noticing it. But now the mysterious sound grew louder and forced them to take notice. The boys startled, glanced at each other, and then each settled into a listening pose. A long, deep, unbroken silence followed. Then a deep, gloomy boom came drifting in from the distance.

“What is it!” exclaimed Joe, under his breath.

“What is it!” Joe exclaimed in a whisper.

“I wonder,” said Tom in a whisper.

“I wonder,” Tom whispered.

“’Tain’t thunder,” said Huckleberry, in an awed tone, “becuz thunder—”

“It ain't thunder,” said Huckleberry in an awed voice, “because thunder...”

“Hark!” said Tom. “Listen—don’t talk.”

“Listen!” said Tom. “Listen. Don’t talk.”

They waited a time that seemed an age, and then the same muffled boom troubled the solemn hush.

They waited for what felt like an age. Then the same muffled boom disturbed the solemn silence.

“Let’s go and see.”

They sprang to their feet and hurried to the shore toward the town. They parted the bushes on the bank and peered out over the water. The little steam ferry-boat was about a mile below the village, drifting with the current. Her broad deck seemed crowded with people. There were a great many skiffs rowing about or floating with the stream in the neighborhood of the ferryboat, but the boys could not determine what the men in them were doing. Presently a great jet of white smoke burst from the ferryboat’s side, and as it expanded and rose in a lazy cloud, that same dull throb of sound was borne to the listeners again.

They jumped to their feet and hurried to the shore facing the town. They pushed aside the bushes on the bank and looked out over the water. The little steam ferryboat was about a mile downstream from the village, drifting with the current. Its wide deck looked crowded with people. Many small rowboats were being rowed nearby or floating with the current. But the boys could not tell what the men in those boats were doing. Soon a great burst of white smoke shot from the ferryboat’s side. As the smoke spread and rose in a slow-moving cloud, the boys heard that same dull, throbbing sound again.

“I know now!” exclaimed Tom; “somebody’s drownded!”

“I know now!” exclaimed Tom. “Somebody’s drowned!”

“That’s it!” said Huck; “they done that last summer, when Bill Turner got drownded; they shoot a cannon over the water, and that makes him come up to the top. Yes, and they take loaves of bread and put quicksilver in ’em and set ’em afloat, and wherever there’s anybody that’s drownded, they’ll float right there and stop.”

“That’s it!” said Huck. “They done that last summer, when Bill Turner got drowned. They shoot a cannon over the water, and that makes him come up to the surface. Yes, and they take loaves of bread and put mercury in them and set them afloat. And wherever there’s anybody that’s drowned, the loaves will float right there and stop.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about that,” said Joe. “I wonder what makes the bread do that.”

“Oh, it ain’t the bread, so much,” said Tom; “I reckon it’s mostly what they say over it before they start it out.”

“Oh, it ain’t so much the bread,” said Tom. “I reckon it’s mostly what they say over it before they send it out.”

“But they don’t say anything over it,” said Huck. “I’ve seen ’em and they don’t.”

“But they don’t say anything over it,” said Huck. “I’ve seen them and they don’t.”

“Well, that’s funny,” said Tom. “But maybe they say it to themselves. Of course they do. Anybody might know that.”

“Well, that’s strange,” said Tom. “But maybe they say it to themselves. Of course they do. Anyone could figure that out.”

The other boys agreed that there was reason in what Tom said, because an ignorant lump of bread, uninstructed by an incantation, could not be expected to act very intelligently when set upon an errand of such gravity.

The other boys agreed that Tom had a point. After all, an ignorant lump of bread without instructions from a magic spell couldn't be expected to act very intelligently. Especially when sent on such an important mission.

“By jings, I wish I was over there, now,” said Joe.

“Gosh, I wish I was over there now,” said Joe.

“I do too,” said Huck. “I’d give heaps to know who it is.”

“I do too,” said Huck. “I’d give a lot to know who it is.”

The boys still listened and watched. Presently a revealing thought flashed through Tom’s mind, and he exclaimed:

The boys kept listening and watching. Soon, Tom suddenly realized something and exclaimed:

“Boys, I know who’s drownded—it’s us!”

“Boys, I know who’s drowned. It’s us!”

They felt like heroes in an instant. Here was a gorgeous triumph; they were missed; they were mourned; hearts were breaking on their account; tears were being shed; accusing memories of unkindness to these poor lost lads were rising up, and unavailing regrets and remorse were being indulged; and best of all, the departed were the talk of the whole town, and the envy of all the boys, as far as this dazzling notoriety was concerned. This was fine. It was worth while to be a pirate, after all.

In an instant, they felt like heroes. What a glorious triumph! People missed them and mourned them. Hearts were breaking over them, and tears were being shed. People remembered, with guilt, how unkind they had been to these poor lost boys. They were full of regret and remorse, though neither could do any good now. Best of all, the boys everyone thought were dead were the talk of the whole town. All the other boys envied them for their dazzling fame. This was wonderful. Being a pirate was worth it after all.

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—

As twilight approached, the ferryboat returned to its usual work, and the small boats disappeared. The pirates returned to camp. They were bursting with pride over their newfound importance and the famous trouble they were causing. They caught fish, cooked supper, and ate it. Then they began guessing what the village was thinking and saying about them. They imagined everyone’s distress over them, and these pictures were deeply satisfying, from their point of view. But as darkness closed around them, they gradually stopped talking and sat staring into the fire. Their thoughts were clearly wandering elsewhere. The excitement was gone now. Tom and Joe could not help thinking about certain people at home who weren't enjoying this adventure as much as they were. Doubts crept in. They grew worried and unhappy, and let out a sigh or two without noticing. After a while, Joe timidly put out an indirect “feeler” about how the others might feel about returning 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 home-sickness clinging to his garments as he could. Mutiny was effectually laid to rest for the moment.

Tom crushed him with mockery! Huck hadn't taken a side yet, so he joined Tom in mocking him. The wavering boy quickly “explained,” glad to escape with as little shame for his cowardly homesickness as possible. For the moment, the rebellion was firmly put to rest.

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 campfire. 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.

As the night grew darker, Huck began to nod off and soon started snoring. Joe fell asleep next. Tom lay still, propped on one elbow, watching the two closely for a while. At last he carefully rose to his knees and searched through the grass in the flickering firelight. He picked up and examined several large, half-cylinder pieces of thin white sycamore bark. Finally, he chose two that seemed right. Then he knelt by the fire and, with great effort, wrote something on each with his “red keel.” He rolled up one piece and put it in his jacket pocket. He put the other in Joe’s hat, then moved the hat a little way from Joe. He also put some schoolboy treasures of almost priceless value into the hat. Among them were a lump of chalk, a rubber ball, three fishhooks, and a marble known as a “sure enough crystal.” Then he tiptoed carefully among the trees until he felt he was too far away to be heard. At once, he broke into a fast run toward the sandbar.