Bruno Part 5

CHAPTER IX

I see us next at the little inland settlement surrounding two small lakes for which we had started.

It had been long years since we had seen the relative who was living there, and childish memories did not tell us that he was the most visionary and unpractical of men. We could not trust our own judgment in such a topsy-turvy country as Florida, where the conditions were all so new to us; so it is no wonder that we took his word for a number of wild statements and decided to buy and settle there. We bought a tract of land from a friend and client of his, who offered us the use of a small homestead shanty near our land, to live in while we were building. This shanty looked decidedly uninviting, but the alternative was a room in the house of our relative, a full mile away from our place; so we decided in favor of the shanty. It was built of rived boards, slabs split out of the native logs. It had one door and no windows. In fact, it needed none; for the boards lapped roughly on each other, leaving cracks like those in window-blinds, so we could put our fingers through the walls almost anywhere. Besides affording a means of light and ventilation, this was vastly convenient for various flying and creeping things. The floor was of rough ten-inch boards, with inch-wide cracks between them. Julius escorted me over to inspect it, saying,--

"If we try to live in this excuse for a house, we shall be pioneering with a vengeance."

After a searching glance around the premises, I answered,--

"The pioneering is all right, if we can just make it clean."

"Oh, that's easy enough!" exclaimed Julius, in a relieved tone. "If you think we can stand its other short-comings, I can whitewash the whole thing, and make it so fresh and sweet you won't know it."

We sent a message for our freight, which we had left at Jacksonville, and Julius took a team to the nearest town to buy a few necessaries. We had brought no furniture South with us, knowing that what we had in our Northern home would be unsuitable for pioneering. Our freight, therefore, was mostly books and pictures, with a few boxes of clothes, bedding, etc. The shanty was wonderfully improved by a coat or two of whitewash, and after an old tapestry carpet had been put down to cover the cracks in the floor, extending up on the walls to form a dado, it began to look quite livable.

The bed and a row of trunks filled one end, there being just room to squeeze in between them. At the foot of the bed was a table, used by turns as kitchen, dining, and library table; there was also a box holding a kerosene stove, with shelves above it for dishes and supplies.

We had two wooden chairs, and a bench which we put to various uses. When these things were all in place, and our books arranged on boards which were laid across the rafters overhead, we felt as snug as was Robinson Crusoe in his cave.

As soon as we were comfortable, Julius got a man to help him, and began to improve our land. A few of the large pine-trees had to be felled, and this performance filled Bruno with the wildest excitement. His natural instincts told him there was only one reason for which a tree should ever be cut,--to capture some wild creature which had taken refuge in its top. At the first blow of the axe he would begin to yelp and dance, breaking into still wilder antics when the tree began to sway and stagger, finally rus.h.i.+ng into the top as it fell, in a state of excitement that bordered on frenzy.

As he, of course, found nothing there, he seemed to think he had not been quick enough, and that the creature had escaped; so he became more and more reckless, until Julius was alarmed for his safety, and said I must keep him shut in-doors till the trees were down, or he would surely end by being crushed.

I had my hands full. I would coax him in, and shut the door. As soon as he heard the chopping begin, he would whine and bark, coaxing to be let out. I always temporized until I heard the tree falling, then off he would dash, and bounce into its top to yelp and explore.

He never found anything in the trees, but he never grew discouraged. He "a.s.sisted" at the felling of every one.

Bruno was much happier in Florida than he had been in our Northern home.

He had all the woods to stretch his legs in, and for amus.e.m.e.nt he had the different kinds of wild creatures.

One moonlight night we three had walked over to the post-office for the mail. As Julius and I were slowly sauntering homeward, enjoying the night air, while Bruno made little excursions in all directions, he suddenly came up in front of us, and paused in that questioning way which showed he had found something of which he was not quite sure.

"What is it, Boonie?" asked Julius.

Bruno made a short run, then came back, pausing as before, and glancing first in the direction he had started to go, then at Julius.

"It is probably a 'possum," I suggested.

Bruno had shown himself to be very careful about attacking strange animals. He seemed to remember our adventure with the hens, his first meeting with Rebecca, and some of his other experiences.

Julius answered his evident question with,--

"Yes. It's Boonie's 'possum. Go get him!"

Off he sprang, das.h.i.+ng into a little clump of trees, about a bow-shot from us, then with a yelp retreated, throwing himself on the ground, uttering short cries, rubbing and rooting his nose down into the gra.s.s and sand. Alas, poor Bruno! We knew what it was. We did not see it, we did not hear it, but we knew. He felt that he had been a victim of misplaced confidence; but we suffered with him, for it was days before he got rid of the "bouquet." Then it was as if by an inspiration. He seemed, all at once, to remember something. There was a tiny lake near our place, that was going dry. Day by day its waters had receded, until it was a mere mud-hole. Bruno went down to it, and buried himself up to the eyes in the black mud.

He lay there until late afternoon, then trotted off to a wet lake near by, and took a thorough bath. With this, he regained his lost self-respect, but he never forgot the experience. It was only necessary to say,--

"Kitty, kitty, where's kitty?" to make his ears and tail droop in the most dejected manner; then he would creep away, out of sight, till some more agreeable topic of conversation was broached.

It was not strange, after such a trying adventure, that Bruno was rather timid about approaching "Br'er 'Possum" when he did meet him. One night, he was found lurking around outside, sniffing some odds and ends that Bruno had disdained. After a little urging, Bruno was induced to seize him. Finding that nothing unpleasant followed, he became from that moment an enthusiastic 'possum-hunter, and used to bring one in every night or two. I usually cooked them for him, and he ate them with a relish, which we thought was fortunate, as we were about twelve miles from a butcher. Another subst.i.tute for beef we found in the Florida gopher. This is a gra.s.s-eating tortoise, which digs a house for itself in the sand.

Bruno soon became a most ardent gopher-hunter. Their hard sh.e.l.ls make them difficult to handle, as they promptly draw in the head and legs on being approached; so Bruno would nose one over until he could seize the shovel, a protruding piece of the lower sh.e.l.l. Getting this small bit between his side-teeth, he balanced the weight by holding his head stiffly sideways, and came trotting in. The shadow of the house reached, he dropped the gopher, carefully turning it over on its back, and lay down beside it, to cool off and rest. Then off he would go for another.

He kept this up day after day, sometimes having as many as a dozen around the place at once. As often as the creatures managed to flop over so they could use their feet again and start to escape, Bruno, yelping and barking, brought them back, and turned them on their backs.

Sometimes, when he returned after a protracted hunt, bringing in a fresh victim, he found several of them escaping at once. Then he would hurriedly drop his latest catch, to speed away, tracking the truants until they were all found and recaptured, to be brought back and nosed over again.

He never wearied of this sport, and after our house was finished, and a well-stocked "chicken-park" was added to our estate, we bought a large camp-kettle, which we arranged on bricks in a secluded place; in this we would heat water and cook Bruno's gophers, so that he and the hens had constant feasts of them and throve apace.

CHAPTER X

Julius and I always like to experiment with new articles of food. We have no sympathy with the kind of fussiness that travels around the world with its own lunch-box, disdaining everything strange or new. It is to us part of the charm of changed surroundings to test the native articles of diet.

[Ill.u.s.tration: He was hissing at Bruno.--PAGE 62.]

We had tried roast 'possum and stewed gopher; we now began to long for a taste of alligator steak. We had heard that to be at all eatable the steak must be taken from the fleshy part of the tail of a young animal before the creature grows large enough to lose its s.h.i.+ny skin; so we were quite delighted one day when we found that Bruno had cornered a young one about four feet long. It was in a little glade about three hundred yards from the house; and as soon as Julius found the cause of Bruno's excitement, he hurried to the house for the axe, and soon put a stop to the creature's demonstrations. He was hissing at Bruno like a whole flock of geese, the while snapping at him with his teeth and striking at him with his tail, which he had a most astonis.h.i.+ng way of flouris.h.i.+ng around.

When the steak was cut the meat looked white and fine-grained, like the more delicate kinds of fish. When cooked it was very inviting, being a compromise between fish and the white meat of domestic fowls.

We enjoyed it very much and were loud in our praises of alligator steak, but--we didn't want any more!

I cooked the rest of it for Bruno, and he ate one more meal of it; then he struck. We have since heard that most people who try alligator steak have the same experience. A first meal is thoroughly enjoyed, but one not brought up on such a diet never gets beyond the second. It is a useful article of food in southern camp-life, because it makes the campers go back to bacon and beans with renewed relish. The same may be said of roast 'possum and stewed gopher,--that is, for the human campers.

Just before our house was ready for us, while we were still living in the little shanty, I noticed one night when Julius came in that he was empty-handed. He had been in the habit of bringing his tools home every evening; so I asked,--

"What have you done with the saws and things?"

"I left them under the building," he answered, "wrapped in an old coat I had there. They will be perfectly safe, and I am tired of carrying them."

I was always glad when he had discovered an easier way of doing things; so I made no objection to this, and went on preparing the evening meal, for which we three were ready. Bruno had been over at the new house all the afternoon; so I waited on him first, seeing that his water-basin was full to the brim and heaping a plate with food for him. Then Julius and I sat down with keenest enjoyment to such a meal as we would have scorned in our old home, but which our open-air life in the pine-woods made exceedingly welcome. Afterwards I cleared the table, and we sat down to our usual evening of reading, interrupted with occasional s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation.

Bruno lay at our feet--dozing when we were quiet, thumping the floor with his tail whenever we spoke. Towards nine o'clock he got up, shook himself, sighed deeply, then asked me in his usual manner to open the door for him. This was the way he asked. He rested his head on my knee until I looked up from my book. Then his tail began to wag, and he glanced quickly from me to the door, then back at me again. I asked,--

"Boonie want to go?"

At this his tail wagged faster than ever, and he went to the door and stood waiting. Julius got up and opened the door for him; standing for a few moments after Bruno had disappeared in the darkness, looking at the stars and listening to that sweet sound the pine-needles make when the wind blows through them.

The night was rather cool, and it was not long before we both began to feel sleepy. Bruno had not returned; so Julius went to the door, whistling and calling to him.

But there was no answer.