ble jaws.

"Him much worse den Pomp."

"What do you mean?"

"Mass' Morgan and de capen say Pomp do lot o' mischuff. Dat do more
mischuff den Pomp."

"Yes, I should think so," I said, as I examined the dripping head, and
saw plainly that my bullet must have gone right through the monster's
brain, probably only stunning it for the time being, and enough to give
the boy time to hack off its head. For these creatures have an amount
of vitality that is wonderful, and after injuries that are certain in
the end to prove fatal, contrive to get back into the water and swim
away.

It was a long time before I was satisfied with gazing at the grinning
head, with its great teeth and holes in the upper jaw into which they
seemed to fit as into a sheath. At last though I turned to the boy.

"We must take it home, Pomp," I said.

"No," he said, with a look of disgust. "Um quite dead now. Frow um
into de ribber."

"Oh no! I want my father to see it, and Morgan."

"We go an' fess um den."

"No, no. You must carry it home."

"No, too heaby, Mass' George, and um begin to 'tink."

I laughed, for Pomp was beginning to show his natural disinclination for
work, though certainly the hideous head did send forth an unpleasant,
musky odour. So long as an exciting task was on hand which interested
him, Pomp would work most industriously; but over anything plodding and
approaching drudgery he was laziness itself.

"I frow um in de ribber, or you frow um in, Mass' George."

"Neither," I said. "It must be carried home."

"What, dat great heaby head?"

"Yes."

"What, all de way fro' de tree?"

"Yes."

"No, no, Mass' George, um too heaby. Dat kill a poor nigger all dead,
oh!"

"Nonsense! It is not so heavy as all that."

"Oh, yes; um drefful heaby. Frow um in."

"But I want my father to see it, and Morgan would like to."

"Eh? I see."

He ducked down quickly, and lifted the head on to an old stump. Then,
breaking off a bough of dead wood, he chopped a short piece off and
propped open the huge jaws.

"Dah!" he exclaimed, gleefully. "Dat make um laugh, and de fly come in
an' out, an' um no snap at um no more."

"But don't I tell you that I want them to see it at home. Sarah would
like to see it too."

"Eh? Oh, no, Mass' George," cried Pomp, excitedly, and beginning to
imitate poor Sarah's sharp acid way so accurately that I roared with
laughter. For every tone of her voice--every gesticulation--was e