the rope, and taking the weight off my feet. Since then
we had tramped through the night many dreary miles, made more painful by
the constant stress of avoiding obstacles, and the sensation of being
hunted by a pack of savages whose cries might at any moment rise upon
the ear.

It was not a comfortable resting-place for one who felt as if he would
give anything to throw himself down and lie at full length, but it
promised to be safe, and following Pomp's lead, I climbed steadily up
the tree to where the dense head formed quite a scaffolding of crossing
boughs, and here, after getting well out of sight of any one who might
be passing below, we seated ourselves as securely as possible, and
waited for what was to come next.

"Wait Injum gone, and we kedge fis' and roast um for dinner," said Pomp;
and then we sat for some little time in silence, listening for the
slightest sound.

Birds we heard from time to time, and now and then the rustle of a
squirrel as it leaped from bough to bough, but nothing else till there
were, one after the other, four ominous splashings in the river, which
gave me a very uncomfortable feeling with regard to crossing to the
other side, and I looked at Pomp.

"Dat 'gators," he said shortly. "No 'wim cross de ribber."

Then quite a couple of hours must have passed, and Pomp began to fidget
about terribly, making so much noise that if the Indians had been
anywhere at hand, they must have heard.

"Hush!" I said; "sit still."

"Can't, Mass' George," he said sharply. "I so dreffle hungly."

"Yes, so am I. What are you going to do?"

"Get down again. Injum no come now."

I hesitated; and as I was heartily sick of waiting, and famished, I made
myself believe that our enemies were not pursuing us, and descended
quickly to look at my companion.

"What we do now, Mass' George--kedge fis?"

"If we can," I said; "but how?"

"Pomp show Mass' George."

He led on through the thick growth just outside the forest edge, and
looking sharply from side to side, soon pitched upon a couple of long,
thin, tapering canes, which he hacked off and trimmed neatly, so that
they formed a pair of very decent fishing-rods, and he looked at me
triumphantly.

"Dah!" he said.

"But where are the hooks and lines?"

Pomp's face was wonderful in its change.

"Wha de hookum line?" he said.

"Yes, you can't catch fish like that."

Scratching the head when puzzled must be a natural act common to all
pe