Part 3 (1/2)
You must dig a sort of fireplace in the sand bank and build your fire in there. When it burns away until you have a good bank of coals, you must put down on them a layer of the corn, in the shuck, then a layer of mussels, then a layer of corn, and finally cover them all up with coals and hot ashes, and leave them there for an hour or two, when they will be cooked beautifully.”
”But Mas' Sam,” said Joe.
”Well, what is it, Joe?”
”How's we gwine to git de fire?”
”Well, how do you think, Joe?”
”I 'clare I dunno, Mas' Sam, 'thout you got some flints an' punk in your pockets.”
”No, I have no flints and no punk, Joe, but I'm going to get you some fire when the sun gets straight overhead.”
”Is you gwine to git it from de sun, Mas' Sam?”
”Yes.”
”What wid, Mas' Sam?”
”With water, Joe.”
”Wid water, Mas' Sam! You'se foolin'. How you gwine to git fire wid water, _I'd_ like to know.”
”Well, wait and see. I'm not fooling.”
To tell the truth, Tom was quite as much at a loss as Joe was, to know how Sam could get fire with water; but his confidence in his ”big brother,” as he called Sam, was too perfect to admit of a doubt or a question. As for Judie, she would hardly have raised her eyebrows if Sam had burned water, or whittled it into dolls' heads before her eyes. She believed in Sam absolutely, and supposed, as a matter of course, that he knew everything and could do anything he liked. But Joe was not yet satisfied that water could be made to a.s.sist in the kindling of a fire.
He said nothing more, however, but carefully watched all of Sam's preparations.
That young gentleman began by tearing a strip of cotton cloth from his s.h.i.+rt, and picking it to pieces. He then gathered from the drift-wood a number of dry sticks, and broke and split them up very fine.
”We must have a few splinters of light-wood,” he said; ”but after the fire is once started, we mustn't put any more pine on.”
So saying, he split off a few splinters from a piece of rich heart-pine, which Southern people call ”light-wood,” because the negroes use it instead of lamps or candles.
”Come now,” said Sam, ”its nearly noon, and I think I can get fire for you. Go up on top of the drift-pile, Tom, and look out for Indians. If you don't see any we can all go down to the spring together long enough to start a fire. Then I must come back to Judie, and I'll keep a look-out for Indians while you and Joe get the corn on. When you get it on, come back here and wait until it has time to cook. Stop a minute, Tom. Let's understand each other. If the one on the look-out sees Indians, he must let the others know; but it won't do to holler. Let me see. Can you whistle like a kildee, Tom?”
”Yes, or like any other bird.”
”Can you, Joe?”
”I reckon I _kin_, Mas' Sam,” said Joe, who, to prove his powers straightway gave a shrill kildee whistle, which nearly deafened them all.
”There, that'll do, Joe. Well, let's understand then, that if anyone of us sees Indians, he must whistle like a kildee. If the Indians hear it they'll think nothing of it.”
Tom went to the look-out, and seeing no savages anywhere, returned, and the whole party, little Judie excepted, proceeded to the spring. Sam then laid his sticks down in a pile, and taking out his watch removed the crystal. This he filled with clear water from the spring, and holding it over the cotton ravellings, moved it up and down until the sunlight, pa.s.sing through it, gathered itself into a small bright spot on the cotton. Joe, eager to see, thrust his head over Sam's shoulder, and directly between the gla.s.s and the sun.
”Take your head away, Joe, or I'll have to draw the fire right through it,” said Sam, laughing.
”Mercy, Mas' Sam, don't do dat. I'se 'feard o' your witches' ways, anyhow,” said Joe, drawing back. The gla.s.s was again put in position and the spot of bright sunlight reappeared. Presently a little cloud of smoke rose, and a moment afterwards, the cotton was fairly afire. It was not difficult now to get the light-wood and dry sticks to blazing, and a good fire was soon secured.