CHAPTER XIX.

  FRED’S SAND-BIRD PIE.

  The next morning, having despatched their breakfast, they sat downunder a tree, which, being on high ground, afforded a good positionfrom which to judge of the weather. The question as to how they shouldspend the day, came up.

  “It’s going to be a splendid day,” said Fred; “and I, for one, willtell you what I should like to do. You know I like those scrapes wherethere’s something good to eat.”

  “I should think so,” replied Charlie, “according to what I saw you eatlast evening.”

  “Did either of you ever eat any sand-birds?”

  “We never did.”

  “You never tasted anything half so good as a sand-bird pie; I alwayscalculate to have a real tuckout once a year on sand-birds. Mothertakes the biggest dish in the house and bakes a smashing great pie.”

  “Let’s go,” said John. “Where’s the place?”

  “You know where Sandy Point is?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Well, right close to it, there’s a lot of little ledges; some of themain’t bigger at high water than a table; some not so big; just a littlespeck in the water.”

  “I know; I’ve been there many a time to shoot brants.”

  “These sand-birds feed on the shore till they are chock brimful, andthe tide comes and drives them off; then they fly on to these ledges;but they are as afraid of getting wet as a cat; and when the tide comesup around the rock, they huddle together to keep out of the water, tillthey are all in a bunch, and the rock looks blue with them; it’s thegreatest chance for a shot; but,” continued he, after a pause, “perhapsMrs. Rhines wouldn’t want the trouble of making it.”

  “Yes, she would,” replied Charlie; “she and father would like it aswell as we. I’ll go and ask her.” He ran to the house, and came back,saying she would make it, if they would dress the birds.

  “I,” said John, “should like to go to some strange place, where wenever have been. I heard Joe Griffin and Henry telling about a place;they said it was eight or nine miles to the eastward of Birch Point,where nobody lives. They said there were great hills of strange-lookingrocks, with a flat between them, and a brook running through it; thatthe Indians used to live there; and you could see the stones where theymade their fires, and find arrow-heads, and Indian things that wereburied there; and Uncle Isaac knew where; that somewhere along the sideof the brook there was red paint, as good as ever was, and that UncleIsaac had a room painted with it; that there were partridges there,and way back was a pond, that the brook ran out of, with pickerel init. Joe said the way to tell it was, right off the mouth of the covethere was a great, high rock, that came up out of the water, with threespruces on the top of it, and a little turf, but the sides were allbare; and he said there were reefs and breakers all round it; but I’llbet, if we could find it, we could see the reefs break, and keep clearof them.”

  “I say, go!” said Charlie; “I do want the red paint so much! I want topaint my canoe. I can buy black paint, and there’ll be two colors; andI want to see the Indian things.”

  “I want to shoot partridges,” said John, “catch pickerel, see theplace, and get some paint to paint my cart, and some things formother.”

  “I want to paint a box I’ve got, that I keep my things in,” said Fred.“I’ll give up the sand-bird pie; let’s go!”

  “It’s flood tide,” said John; “we can do both. Let us go and get thebirds, have our pie, and then go and camp out at the other.”

  They took their guns and a luncheon, and were soon on their way. ByFred’s direction they landed a little way from the point, from whichthree of the rocks were distant but half a gun-shot, being, indeed,connected with the point at low water, the extremity of which wasfringed with low bushes, through which they crawled in differentdirections, when they found that the rocks were as Fred had said--bluewith birds. It was arranged that Fred should caw like a crow insuccession; at the first summons they were to get ready; at the second,Charlie and John were to fire; but Fred was to fire as they rose.

  At the signal the guns were discharged, and the rock was covered withdead and wounded; as they rose in a thick cloud, Fred fired, when manymore fell--some on the rock, but most of them in the water. These Tigeinstantly began to bring ashore, and lay down at John’s feet.

  “We’ve killed half a bushel!” cried Fred; “didn’t I tell you this wasthe place?”

  “We can never eat a quarter part of these,” said John.

  “Never mind; let us carry every one of them to the island; it is coolweather; they will keep till you and I go home, and then we can getour mothers to make us another pie, to remember this holiday by; andCharlie and his folks can have another pie after we are gone.”

  “Now for home and the Indians’ place,” said Charlie.

  They took to their oars, and rowing with a good will, reached theisland some time before noon. The instant the canoe touched the beachCharlie leaped from it, and, rushing into the house, bawled out,“Mother, put on the pot! They’re coming with the birds! O, lashings ofthem! I’ll make a fire!” and ran for the wood-pile. Charlie crammed thebrush under the pot to heat water to scald the birds, that they mightpick them the faster.

  John and Fred now came in with the lower button of their jacketsbuttoned up, and their bosoms, pockets, arms, and hats full of deadbirds. They unloaded on the middle of the hearth, and went back formore.

  “Boys,” asked Sally, “have you eaten your luncheon?”

  No; they couldn’t stop; forgot it.

  “Then eat it now, and have your dinner on the birds.”

  “Yes,” said Charlie; “and then start off to camp out.”

  The boys ate their luncheon while the water was heating, and then beganto pick and dress the birds; and, when Ben came in, he helped them.When prepared, they looked like balls of butter, they were so coveredwith yellow fat.

  While the pie was baking, John began to show the boys how Tige wouldfetch and carry, and give any one his paw to shake, and dive to bringup things from the bottom.

  “You didn’t know I had a dog--did you?” asked Charlie.

  “Yes,” replied John; “Sailor.”

  “No; one as big as three of him.”

  Charlie had been so much occupied with the boys, that he had forgottenall about the pig, and had not seen him for almost a week. But the pigwas not at all concerned about the matter, as the woods were full ofacorns and beech-nuts, and he was enjoying himself very much to his ownsatisfaction.

  Charlie now went to the edge of the woods, and called, “Rover! Rover!”when down came the pig from the woods, and, jumping upon Charlie, puthis fore feet in his lap, and rubbing his nose against him, seemed fullas glad to see him as Tige ever was to see John. Charlie then put someacorns in his pocket, and the pig took them out with his nose; then heheld up a stick, and told him to jump, and over it he jumped.

  “Now, Rover,” said he, pointing to the beach, “go get a clam.”

  In a moment he ran to the beach, rooted up a clam with his nose, andbrought it to his master. The boys were full of amazement to see a pigdo such things.

  “Will he bring birds ashore?” asked John.

  “No; he won’t go near the water, except a mud puddle; he’s afraid ofthe water. A hog can’t swim much more than a hen; but I tell you whathe will do, he’ll haul the baby in a cart.”

  Charlie had made a cart, with arms to it, for the baby, and a harnessof canvas for Rover; so he harnessed up the pig, who drew the baby allalong the green between the house and the water.

  “Tige will do that,” said John.

  They took out the pig, and put in Tige, who walked off as careful ascould be.

  “Let’s have a strong team,” said Fred; “let’s put them both in, onebefore the other.”

  As Tige didn’t seem very fond of the pig, and had shown somedisposition to bite him, it was not thought safe to trust him behind;so they got some ropes, and traced him up forward. While they weredrawing the b
aby in great style along the edge of the beach, Ben washiding behind a rock on the White Bull, trying to get a shot at somesea-ducks; at length he fired, killing four of them. Tige looked upat the report, and seeing the dead birds floating on the water, ranwith all his might down hill into the cove, dragging pig, baby, andall after him, at a break-neck pace, into the sea. Charlie, leapinginto the water, caught at the child, but, missing it, grasped onewheel, which upset the cart in an instant, pitching the screaming childinto the water, from which it was instantly rescued by Charlie, who,however, had to swim for it. Meanwhile Tige, utterly regardless of thecommotion he was causing, or to how great an extent he was injuringhis previous high reputation, swam steadily along, dragging thehalf-drowned pig after him, till he got among the birds, when, takingone in his mouth, he swam to the White Bull; where Ben, who had watchedthe whole proceeding, relieved him from the harness, when he swam offand brought in the remainder. By this time John and Fred had arrived inthe canoe. The pig lay on the beach apparently almost dead.

  “I guess he’ll die,” said Fred. “How bad Charlie will feel!”

  They put him, together with the cart, into the canoe, and took him tothe cove, where they laid him carefully on the grass.

  Charlie, meanwhile, had gone to the house with the baby.

  “Well,” said Sally, as she received the screaming, dripping child, “I’msure I don’t know what this child is born for; it’s not six months old,and has been almost burned to death, and drowned.”

  When Charlie returned, and saw Rover in such a condition, he came verynear bursting into tears; he knelt down by him, wiped the froth awayfrom his mouth, and rubbed him, calling him good Rover; but piggy gaveno signs of life, except it could be perceived he breathed.

  Ben now came over from the White Bull in his canoe.

  “Father,” cried Charlie, “do come here; Rover is going to die; can’tyou help him?”

  “The first thing,” said Ben, after looking at him, “is to get the waterout of him.”

  “In England, when people are most drowned, they roll them on a barrel;shall I get one?”

  “I guess I can get it out easier than that,” said Ben; and, taking thepig by the hind legs, he held him up clear from the ground, when thewater he had taken in ran out of his nose in a stream. When he put himdown the pig gave a grunt.

  “He’s coming to!” cried Charlie; and in a few moments more the pig gotup on his fore legs, but fell back again.

  “He’ll do well enough now; he’s only weak.”

  Charlie took his head in his lap and patted him, when the pig gavethree or four loud grunts, and got up on his feet. Just then Sallycalled from the door that dinner was ready.

  “I’m ready to eat it, or do anything else,” said Charlie, “now thatbaby is not drowned, and Rover has come to.”

  In consequence of all this Tige was somewhat in disgrace.

  “You naughty dog,” said John to him, “do you know what you’ve done?almost drowned Charlie’s pig and the baby; I shouldn’t have thoughtthat of you. What do you suppose folks would say, if it should go allover town what you have done?”

  But so far from manifesting any contrition, Tige, all the time hismaster was talking to him, kept wagging his tail, and looking him inthe face.

  “You must not throw a person away for one mistake,” said Ben. “Tige hasbeen trained from childhood to feel, that to get birds when they areshot is the great duty of his life.”

  “Well, Fred,” said Sally (when the pie had come upon the table, and hehad despatched the first plateful), “what do you think of my pie?”

  “Tongue cannot tell,” he replied, holding out his plate for more.

  “I think,” said Ben, “it is about the best mess I ever tasted; I meanto have one every year after this.”

  “Wouldn’t father like this?” asked John: “when he gets home we’ll havesome.”