Mass' George: A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah Read online

  CHAPTER THREE.

  With a new place, every touch makes a difference; and when some of thosetouches are given by the hand of a gardener, nature begins to help.

  It was so at our Georgia home. Every bit of time my father or Morgancould find to spare, they were digging, or trimming, or planting, tillSarah would set to and grumble to me because they would not come in totheir meals.

  "I wouldn't care, sir," she would say, "only the supper's gettingspoiled."

  "But the home made more beautiful," replied my father; and then I haveheard him say as he glanced through the window at flower and treeflourishing wonderfully in that beautiful climate, "If my poor wife hadlived to see all this!"

  Early and late worked Morgan, battling with the wild vines and beautifulgrowths that seemed to be always trying to make the garden we wereredeeming from the wilderness come back to its former state. But hefound time to gratify me, and he would screw up his dry Welsh face andbeckon to me sometimes to bring a stick and hunt out squirrel, coon, orsome ugly little alligator, which he knew to be hiding under the rootsof a tree in some pool. Then, as much to please me as for use, a puntwas bought from the owners of a brig which had sailed across fromBristol to make her last voyage, being condemned to breaking up at ourinfant port.

  The boat, however, was nearly new, and came into my father's handscomplete, with mast, sail, ropes, and oars; and it was not long before Igained the mastery over all that it was necessary to learn in themanagement.

  Morgan's fishing-tackle came into use, and after a little instructionand help from the Welshman, I began to wage war upon the fish in ourstream and in the river, catching, beside, ugly little reptiles of thetortoise or turtle family--strange objects to be hauled up from muddydepths at one end of a line, but some of them very good eating all thesame.

  The little settlement throve as the time went on, and though the Indianswere supposed to be threatening, and to look with very little favourupon the settlement so near their hunting-grounds, all remainedpeaceful, and we had nothing but haughty overbearing words from ourSpanish neighbours.

  To a man the officers and gentlemen who had come out turned theirattention to agriculture, and many were the experiments tried, andsuccessfully too. At one estate cotton was growing; at another, wherethere was a lot of rich low land easily flooded, great crops of ricewere raised. Here, as I walked round with my father, we passed broadfields of sugar-cane, and farther on the great crinkled-leaved Indiancorn flourished wonderfully, with its flower tassels, and beautifulgreen and then orange-buff ears of hard, sweet, flinty corn.

  Then came long talks about the want of more help, and one of thesettlers braved public opinion, and every one began to talk about howshocking it was for an English gentleman to purchase slaves. But beforemany months had passed there was hardly a settler without slave labour,the principal exception being my father.

  It is hard to paint a picture in words, but I should like those who readthis to understand what my home was like when I was about twelve yearsold, a great strong healthy boy, with cheeks burned brown by the sun.

  Our place began with one low erection, divided by a rough partition intotwo--our room and the Morgans'; most of our meals being eaten in the bigrustic porch contrived by Morgan in what he called his spare time, andover which ran wildly the most beautiful passion-flower I had ever seen.

  But then as wood was abundant, and a saw-pit had been erected, a morepretentious one-floored cottage residence was planned to join on to thefirst building, which before long was entirely devoted to the servants;and we soon had a very charming little home with shingle roof, overwhich beautiful creepers literally rioted, and hung down in festoonsfrom our windows.

  Every day seemed to mellow and beautify this place, and the wild gardendotted with lovely cypresses and flowering shrubs, mingled with everykind of fruit-tree that my father and Morgan had been able to gettogether. Over trellises, and on the house facing south, grape-vinesflourished wonderfully. Peaches were soon in abundance, and such fruitsfamiliar to English people at home as would bear the climate filled thegarden.

  My father's estate extended for a considerable distance, but the greaterpart remained as it had been tilled by nature, the want of assistanceconfining his efforts to a comparatively small garden; but he used tosay to me, in his quiet, grave way--

  "We might grow more useful things, George, but we could not make theplace more beautiful."

  And I often used to think so, as I gazed out of my window at the wildforest, and the openings leading down to the stream and away to theswamp, where I could hear the alligators barking and bellowing at night,with a feeling half dread, half curiosity, and think that some day Ishould live to see one that I had caught or killed myself, close athand.

  Now and then Morgan used to call me to come and see where a 'gator, ashe called it, had been in the night, pointing out its track right up tothe rough fence of the garden.

  "You and I'll have a treat one of these days, my lad."

  "Yes," I used to say; "but when?"

  "Oh, one of these days when I'm not busy."

  "Ah, Morgan," I used to say, impatiently, "when you're not busy: whenwill that be?"

  "Be? One o' these days when we've cut down all the wood, and turned allthat low flat swamp into plantation. You see I'm so busy just now."

  "Oh, very well," I said, "I shall go by myself."

  "That you won't, look you," he cried. "I heard you promise your fatheryou wouldn't go alone. You're not much of a boy, but you're too good tofeed alligators with, or let the rattlesnakes and 'cassins try theirpyson on."

  "But they wouldn't, I should take care."

  "Take care? Do you know, there's 'gators big as trees in theseswamp-holes. I shouldn't wonder if there's some of the oldopen-countenanced beauties big round as houses. Why, Master George, Ibelieve there's fellows out there as old as the river, and as could takeyou as easy as I do a pill."

  "Don't believe it."

  "_Ve_-ry well then; only mind, if one does take you across the middle,give you a pitch up in the air, and then catch you head-first andswallow you, don't you blame me."

  "Why, how could I, if he swallowed me?" I said.

  "Oh, I don't know. You might holler or knock, if you had a stick inyour hand."

  "What stuff!"

  "Oh, is it! There's plenty of room in 'em, and they're as hard as horn.But you take my advice, and don't try."

  "Well, then, come with me; I know several holes where I think theylive."

  "How do you know that?"

  "Because I've seen the footmarks leading down to them all plain in themud."

  "Then you've been going too far, and don't you run no risks again."

  I walked away discontentedly, as I'd often walked away before, wishingthat I had a companion of my own age.

  Some of the gentlemen settled out there had sons; but they were away,and at times the place seemed very lonely; but I fancy now that was onlyjust before a storm, or when everything felt strange and depressing. Atother times I was happy enough. Every morning I had three hours' goodstudy with my father, who very rarely let me neglect that. Then in theafternoon there was always something to do or something to see and helpover. For, as far as my father's means would allow, he planned andcontrived endless things to make our home more attractive andconvenient.

  One week it would be the contriving of rough tree-trunk steps down fromthe bank to the water's edge, so that the boat was easily reached, andringbolts were driven into cut-down trees, which became natural postsfor mooring the boat.

  Another time during one of our walks, he stopped by a lovely pool outtoward the swamp--a spot of about an acre and a half in extent, wherethe trees kept off the wind, and where the morning sun seemed to lightup the bottom, showing every pebble and every fish as if seen throughcrystal glass.

  "There," he said, "that will be ten times better than bathing in theriver. I always feel a little nervous about you there. This shall beyour own private bathing-po
ol, where you can learn to swim to yourheart's content. That old fallen hickory will do for yourdressing-room, and there are places to hang up your clothes. I don'tthink you can come to harm here."

  Of course I was delighted, and at the same time a little disappointed;for the fact that the pool was perfectly safe took away somewhat fromits attractiveness, and I began to think that there was no stream tocarry one along; no very deep places to swim over and feel a thrill atthe danger; no holes in the banks where an alligator might be smilingpleasantly as he thought how good a boy would be to eat.