The Young Marooners on the Florida Coast by John Henry Goldfrap
CHAPTER XIV
FRANK'S EXCUSES--CURING VENISON--MAROONING COOKERY--ROBERT'S VEGETABLEGARDEN--PLANS FOR RETURN---PREPARATION FOR THE SABBATH
When Mary and Frank arose next morning, they saw the small boughs of theoak hung with divided portions of venison. The boys had so placed them,after finishing, late at night, for the double purpose of allowing themto cool and of keeping them out of reach of the dogs. "Come, Frank,"said Mary, "let us make up the fire, and get things ready forbreakfast." The wood was close at hand, ready cut, and nothing more wasneeded for a fire than putting the pieces together, with several sticksof light wood underneath; a bright cracking blaze soon rose cheerfullybefore them.
"Buddy," she said, "can you not go down to the spring, and bring me somewater, while I am preparing these other things?"
But Frank was lazy that morning, and out of humour, and the fire was socomfortable (for the air was cool) that he stood before it, warming hishands, and puffing at the smoke that blew in his face. He replied, "No,sister, I am afraid"--then he paused, trying hard to think of someexcuse. "I am afraid that if I go the crabs will bite me."
"Crabs!" Mary exclaimed. "Why how can they bite you, when they are allcooked?"
"I do not mean the crabs in the dish," said he, "but the crabs in theriver."
"Well, if they are in the river," argued Mary, "how can they hurt you,if you keep on the land?"
Frank found that his excuse was about to fail. But he was not disposedto surrender so easily. He therefore devised another. "I am afraid togo, for if the crabs do not bite me maybe the snakes will. Don't youremember what cousin Harold told us the other day about snakes."
Frank said this very seriously, and had not Mary been somewhat provokedat his unbrotherly refusal, she would have laughed at the ridiculouscontrast between his looks and his language. She said, reproachfully,"I thought, Frank, you loved me better than to treat me so. I want thewater to make coffee for you, and the rest of us, and yet you will nothelp me."
"I do not wish any of the coffee," he answered. "All that I want forbreakfast is some of that nice fat deer, and some of these fish andcrabs."
"Very well," she added, in a hurt but independent tone, "I can helpmyself."
She took the bucket, and went to the spring. Frank looked ashamed, butcontinued silent. He drew up a billet of wood and sat upon it, pushinghis feet towards the fire, and spreading out his hands, for the want ofsomething else to do. By the time Mary returned from the spring, Robertand Harold came from the tent. They had retired late and weary thenight before, and as a natural consequence had overslept their usualtime for rising. "What is that we heard you and Frank talking about?"Robert asked of Mary.
"Inquire of Frank," she replied; "I prefer that he should tell you."
"Well, Frank, what was it?"
"Nothing," he answered, doggedly, "except that sister wanted me to go tothe spring, and I told her I was afraid that the crabs and snakes wouldbite me."
"What did sister Mary want with the water?"
"To make coffee, I suppose."
"And do you not love coffee?"
"Sometimes; but I do not wish any this morning, for sister never puts insugar enough for me."
"Well, well, we shall see who wants coffee at breakfast. Sister Mary, isthere anything I can do to help you?"
"Cousin," said Harold, uniting quickly in the effort to shame Frank outof his strange caprice, "I wish you would let me too help you in someway. You are always so ready to do everything you can for us, that weare glad whenever we can do anything for you."
Mary needed nothing, except to have the kettle lifted to its place uponthe fire. Frank was all this time warming his hands and feet, as if hewas desperately cold. In reading the Scriptures, and repeating theLord's Prayer, his voice could scarcely be heard; he knew that he haddone wrong, and was beginning to repent. At breakfast, Mary asked himin a kind, forgiving tone, if he would not have some coffee; but true tohis resolution he declined.
The first business of the day was to take care of their venison. Yetwhat should they do with it? They had no cool place in which to keep itfresh, nor salting tub nor barrel in which to corn or pickle what theycould not consume in its green state. Harold's proposal was that theyshould cut the hams into thin slices, and jerk them in the smoke, as hehad seen Torgah do; or else to dry them in the sun, which in the middleof the day was quite hot. Robert said he had heard or read of meatbeing saved fresh for several days by burying it under cool runningwater, and offered to try it at their spring. Mary said she liked bothplans, but having had such good experience of Harold's baked turkey, shehoped he would now give them a specimen of baked venison.
It was finally resolved to give each plan a fair trial. One ham shouldbe sliced and jerked; another should be baked for the next day's dinner,as the turkey had been; one shoulder should be cooked for that day'sconsumption, and the other put under the drip of the spring to provewhether it would keep until Monday.
"There is one advantage at least that we shall gain from theseexperiments," said Harold; "a knowledge how to economize our meat."
For a minute or two Mary had been evidently pondering upon somedifficult problem; and Robert, observing her abstraction, asked in ajesting tone if she was studying anatomy.
"Not exactly," she replied; "I was thinking of two things; how to cookthis shoulder, when we have nothing in which to bake or roast it--"
"O, as for that," Harold interjected, "I will provide you in tenminutes' time with a roaster wide enough for an ox, or small enough fora sparrow. Do you just hang it by a string from the pole I will set foryou above the fire; it will roast fast enough, only you will lose allyour gravy."
"The gipsies' roasting-pole!" said she; "I wonder I did not think of it.The other thing is, that after you have sliced the steak-pieces from thebone, the remainder would make an excellent soup, if we had anyvegetables to put with it."
"And what do you want?" Robert inquired.
"In beef soup," she replied, "cooks usually put in turnips, onions,cabbage, potatoes, carrots, and the like."
"Carrots and potatoes I fear we must do without at this time," said he,"but the rest I think I can furnish, or something very like them."
"What! have you a vegetable garden already growing on the island?" askedHarold.
"Yes," he answered, "a very large and fine one; an endless supply of themost beautiful white cabbage, and most delicate asparagus, besidesquantities of spinach, okra, and other vegetables. The palmetto givesthe first, the tender shoots of the bamboo-brier the second; the leavesof the poke, when young, furnish the third, and those of the wild violetthe last, or rather a substitute in its mucilaginous leaf, for the okra.Beside these plants (all of which, except the last, need to be boiled inseveral waters to free them from their bitter taste), there aremultitudes more growing around us that are perfectly wholesome asarticles of food--the purslain, the thistle, the dandelion, thelambsquarter, the cresses and pepper-grasses, to say nothing of thepink-gilled mushrooms, and the fungus that grows from logs of hickory."
"I will ask no more questions about your garden," said Harold. "I willconfess at once that it is one of the largest and finest in the world;but will say too that it requires a person of your knowledge to use itaright."
"And no great knowledge after all," responded Robert. "I could teachyou in half an hour every one."
"I will await them here," said Harold, "wishing you all success invisiting the garden, and cousin Mary all success in preparing thevegetables for use."
That afternoon they engaged in another discussion about attempting aspeedy return home. Robert and Mary had become impatient of their stay,and were despairing of any one's coming soon to their relief. The threeand a half days of separation from their father seemed to them a month.
"Why not make the effort to return at once?" they contended. "Thisplace is very good indeed; on some accounts we could not desire abetter; yet it is not home."
Harold, however, was overruled. Mary and Frank united with Robert inresolving to attempt their return homewards by coasting; and Haroldyielded with a sigh, remarking that his heart was with them, but hisjudgment against them. The moment the question was decided, Frank beganto show the greatest glee. To his hopeful spirit, to try was tosucceed; and he was even then in fancy revelling once more in the scenesof happy Bellevue.
But when should they begin their voyage? Not that day, for they werenot ready. Not the next, for that was the Sabbath, which they had beentaught to reverence. Not Monday morning, because there were preparationsto be made, which they could not complete without working on theSabbath, They resolved to "remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy," byrest from labour, and by appropriate exercises, and then to start assoon after as possible; which, probably, could not be before Mondayevening or Tuesday morning.
They prepared another oven, heated and protected as before, into whichthe ham of venison was introduced. They collected and cut a supply ofwood to be used in case of cool weather the following day, and broughtfrom the bank another basket full of oysters. After spending a pleasantevening in conversation, they retired to rest, happy in the thought thatthey had been trying to live as they should, and that they had resolved,of their own free will, to reverence the Sabbath, at the sacrifice ofanother day from home.