agerly, his fingers working, his lips moving, and
his eyes seeming to devour everything that was done.

"Pomp load um gun," he said all at once.

"You go on with your cooking," I replied; "that one's `burning um
'tick.'"

Pomp darted at the wooden spit, and drawing it out replaced it in a
better position.

"Dat duck lil rarksle," he said, showing his teeth. "Dat free time try
to burn um 'tick and tummle in de fire, rock umself. Dah, you 'tan
'till, will you? Oh, I say, Mass' George, done um 'mell good?"

"Yes; they begin to smell nice."

"Dat de one hab green head. He berry juicy 'deed; dat one for Mass'
George. What Mass' George going to do?"

"Put the gun and powder and shot farther away from the fire."

"What for?"

"A spark might set the powder off."

"Oh!" ejaculated Pomp. Then, "What powder do if 'park send um off?"

"Blow the fire out and send the ducks into the river."

"What? An' de 'gator get um? Pomp not cook de duck for 'gator. 'Gator
eat de duck raw, and no pick um fedder. Take de gun away."

I was already doing so, and standing it up behind us against a patch of
low bushes, I hung the powder and shot pouches by their straps to the
iron ramrod. Then going back to my place I sat watching the cooking, as
the boy turned and re-turned the birds, which grew browner and more
appetising every moment.

There were faults in that cooking, no doubt. There was neither plate
nor dish, no bread, no salt or pepper, and no table-cloth. But there
was something else--young, healthy appetite, as we sat at last in the
bright morning sunshine, drawn back now from the fire, Pomp and I, each
with a roasting-stick in one hand, his knife in the other, cutting off
the juicy brown bits, and eating them with the greatest of gusto, after
an incision had been made, and the whole of the hardened interior had
been allowed to fall out into the fire.

We hardly spoke, but went on eating, Pomp watching me and cutting the
bird exactly as I did mine; then picking each bone as it was detached
from the stick, and so on and on, till we had each finished his duck.
Our hands were not very clean, and we had no table napkins for our lips;
but as we ate that meal, I can safely say for myself that it was the
most delicious repast I ever had.

Then we sat perfectly still, after throwing our sticks into the remains
of the fire, reduced now to a few glowing embers.

But there is one thing more of which I must speak, that