CHAPTER XIII

  TOM'S mind was made up now. He was gloomy and desperate. He was aforsaken, friendless boy, he said; nobody loved him; when they found outwhat they had driven him to, perhaps they would be sorry; he had triedto do right and get along, but they would not let him; since nothingwould do them but to be rid of him, let it be so; and let them blame_him_ for the consequences--why shouldn't they? What right had thefriendless to complain? Yes, they had forced him to it at last: he wouldlead a life of crime. There was no choice.

  By this time he was far down Meadow Lane, and the bell for school to"take up" tinkled faintly upon his ear. He sobbed, now, to think heshould never, never hear that old familiar sound any more--it was veryhard, but it was forced on him; since he was driven out into the coldworld, he must submit--but he forgave them. Then the sobs came thick andfast.

  Just at this point he met his soul's sworn comrade, JoeHarper--hard-eyed, and with evidently a great and dismal purpose in hisheart. Plainly here were "two souls with but a single thought." Tom,wiping his eyes with his sleeve, began to blubber out something abouta resolution to escape from hard usage and lack of sympathy at home byroaming abroad into the great world never to return; and ended by hopingthat Joe would not forget him.

  But it transpired that this was a request which Joe had just been goingto make of Tom, and had come to hunt him up for that purpose. His motherhad whipped him for drinking some cream which he had never tasted andknew nothing about; it was plain that she was tired of him and wishedhim to go; if she felt that way, there was nothing for him to do butsuccumb; he hoped she would be happy, and never regret having driven herpoor boy out into the unfeeling world to suffer and die.

  As the two boys walked sorrowing along, they made a new compact to standby each other and be brothers and never separate till death relievedthem of their troubles. Then they began to lay their plans. Joe was forbeing a hermit, and living on crusts in a remote cave, and dying,some time, of cold and want and grief; but after listening to Tom, heconceded that there were some conspicuous advantages about a life ofcrime, and so he consented to be a pirate.

  Three miles below St. Petersburg, at a point where the Mississippi Riverwas a trifle over a mile wide, there was a long, narrow, wooded island,with a shallow bar at the head of it, and this offered well as arendezvous. It was not inhabited; it lay far over toward the furthershore, abreast a dense and almost wholly unpeopled forest. So Jackson'sIsland was chosen. Who were to be the subjects of their piracies was amatter that did not occur to them. Then they hunted up Huckleberry Finn,and he joined them promptly, for all careers were one to him; he wasindifferent. They presently separated to meet at a lonely spot on theriver-bank two miles above the village at the favorite hour--which wasmidnight. There was a small log raft there which they meant to capture.Each would bring hooks and lines, and such provision as he could stealin the most dark and mysterious way--as became outlaws. And before theafternoon was done, they had all managed to enjoy the sweet glory ofspreading the fact that pretty soon the town would "hear something." Allwho got this vague hint were cautioned to "be mum and wait."

  About midnight Tom arrived with a boiled ham and a few trifles,and stopped in a dense undergrowth on a small bluff overlooking themeeting-place. It was starlight, and very still. The mighty river laylike an ocean at rest. Tom listened a moment, but no sound disturbed thequiet. Then he gave a low, distinct whistle. It was answered from underthe bluff. Tom whistled twice more; these signals were answered in thesame way. Then a guarded voice said:

  "Who goes there?"

  "Tom Sawyer, the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main. Name your names."

  "Huck Finn the Red-Handed, and Joe Harper the Terror of the Seas." Tomhad furnished these titles, from his favorite literature.

  "'Tis well. Give the countersign."

  Two hoarse whispers delivered the same awful word simultaneously to thebrooding night:

  "_Blood_!"

  Then Tom tumbled his ham over the bluff and let himself down after it,tearing both skin and clothes to some extent in the effort. There wasan easy, comfortable path along the shore under the bluff, but it lackedthe advantages of difficulty and danger so valued by a pirate.

  The Terror of the Seas had brought a side of bacon, and had about wornhimself out with getting it there. Finn the Red-Handed had stolen askillet and a quantity of half-cured leaf tobacco, and had also broughta few corn-cobs to make pipes with. But none of the pirates smoked or"chewed" but himself. The Black Avenger of the Spanish Main said itwould never do to start without some fire. That was a wise thought;matches were hardly known there in that day. They saw a fire smoulderingupon a great raft a hundred yards above, and they went stealthilythither and helped themselves to a chunk. They made an imposingadventure of it, saying, "Hist!" every now and then, and suddenlyhalting with finger on lip; moving with hands on imaginary dagger-hilts;and giving orders in dismal whispers that if "the foe" stirred, to "lethim have it to the hilt," because "dead men tell no tales." They knewwell enough that the raftsmen were all down at the village layingin stores or having a spree, but still that was no excuse for theirconducting this thing in an unpiratical way.

  They shoved off, presently, Tom in command, Huck at the after oar andJoe at the forward. Tom stood amidships, gloomy-browed, and with foldedarms, and gave his orders in a low, stern whisper:

  "Luff, and bring her to the wind!"

  "Aye-aye, sir!"

  "Steady, steady-y-y-y!"

  "Steady it is, sir!"

  "Let her go off a point!"

  "Point it is, sir!"

  As the boys steadily and monotonously drove the raft toward mid-streamit was no doubt understood that these orders were given only for"style," and were not intended to mean anything in particular.

  "What sail's she carrying?"

  "Courses, tops'ls, and flying-jib, sir."

  "Send the r'yals up! Lay out aloft, there, half a dozen ofye--foretopmaststuns'l! Lively, now!"

  "Aye-aye, sir!"

  "Shake out that maintogalans'l! Sheets and braces! _now_ my hearties!"

  "Aye-aye, sir!"

  "Hellum-a-lee--hard a port! Stand by to meet her when she comes! Port,port! _Now_, men! With a will! Stead-y-y-y!"

  "Steady it is, sir!"

  The raft drew beyond the middle of the river; the boys pointed her headright, and then lay on their oars. The river was not high, so there wasnot more than a two or three mile current. Hardly a word was said duringthe next three-quarters of an hour. Now the raft was passing beforethe distant town. Two or three glimmering lights showed where it lay,peacefully sleeping, beyond the vague vast sweep of star-gemmed water,unconscious of the tremendous event that was happening. The BlackAvenger stood still with folded arms, "looking his last" upon the sceneof his former joys and his later sufferings, and wishing "she" could seehim now, abroad on the wild sea, facing peril and death with dauntlessheart, going to his doom with a grim smile on his lips. It was buta small strain on his imagination to remove Jackson's Island beyondeye-shot of the village, and so he "looked his last" with a broken andsatisfied heart. The other pirates were looking their last, too; andthey all looked so long that they came near letting the current driftthem out of the range of the island. But they discovered the danger intime, and made shift to avert it. About two o'clock in the morning theraft grounded on the bar two hundred yards above the head of the island,and they waded back and forth until they had landed their freight. Partof the little raft's belongings consisted of an old sail, and this theyspread over a nook in the bushes for a tent to shelter their provisions;but they themselves would sleep in the open air in good weather, asbecame outlaws.

  They built a fire against the side of a great log twenty or thirty stepswithin the sombre depths of the forest, and then cooked some bacon inthe frying-pan for supper, and used up half of the corn "pone" stockthey had brought. It seemed glorious sport to be feasting in that wild,free way in the virgin forest of an unexplored and uninhabited island,far from the haunts
of men, and they said they never would return tocivilization. The climbing fire lit up their faces and threw its ruddyglare upon the pillared tree-trunks of their forest temple, and upon thevarnished foliage and festooning vines.

  When the last crisp slice of bacon was gone, and the last allowanceof corn pone devoured, the boys stretched themselves out on the grass,filled with contentment. They could have found a cooler place, butthey would not deny themselves such a romantic feature as the roastingcampfire.

  "_Ain't_ it gay?" said Joe.

  "It's _nuts_!" said Tom. "What would the boys say if they could see us?"

  "Say? Well, they'd just die to be here--hey, Hucky!"

  "I reckon so," said Huckleberry; "anyways, I'm suited. I don't wantnothing better'n this. I don't ever get enough to eat, gen'ally--and herethey can't come and pick at a feller and bullyrag him so."

  "It's just the life for me," said Tom. "You don't have to get up,mornings, and you don't have to go to school, and wash, and all thatblame foolishness. You see a pirate don't have to do _anything_, Joe,when he's ashore, but a hermit _he_ has to be praying considerable, andthen he don't have any fun, anyway, all by himself that way."

  "Oh yes, that's so," said Joe, "but I hadn't thought much about it, youknow. I'd a good deal rather be a pirate, now that I've tried it."

  "You see," said Tom, "people don't go much on hermits, nowadays, likethey used to in old times, but a pirate's always respected. Anda hermit's got to sleep on the hardest place he can find, and putsackcloth and ashes on his head, and stand out in the rain, and--"

  "What does he put sackcloth and ashes on his head for?" inquired Huck.

  "I dono. But they've _got_ to do it. Hermits always do. You'd have to dothat if you was a hermit."

  "Dern'd if I would," said Huck.

  "Well, what would you do?"

  "I dono. But I wouldn't do that."

  "Why, Huck, you'd _have_ to. How'd you get around it?"

  "Why, I just wouldn't stand it. I'd run away."

  "Run away! Well, you _would_ be a nice old slouch of a hermit. You'd bea disgrace."

  The Red-Handed made no response, being better employed. He had finishedgouging out a cob, and now he fitted a weed stem to it, loaded it withtobacco, and was pressing a coal to the charge and blowing a cloud offragrant smoke--he was in the full bloom of luxurious contentment. Theother pirates envied him this majestic vice, and secretly resolved toacquire it shortly. Presently Huck said:

  "What does pirates have to do?"

  Tom said:

  "Oh, they have just a bully time--take ships and burn them, and get themoney and bury it in awful places in their island where there's ghostsand things to watch it, and kill everybody in the ships--make 'em walk aplank."

  "And they carry the women to the island," said Joe; "they don't kill thewomen."

  "No," assented Tom, "they don't kill the women--they're too noble. Andthe women's always beautiful, too.

  "And don't they wear the bulliest clothes! Oh no! All gold and silverand di'monds," said Joe, with enthusiasm.

  "Who?" said Huck.

  "Why, the pirates."

  Huck scanned his own clothing forlornly.

  "I reckon I ain't dressed fitten for a pirate," said he, with aregretful pathos in his voice; "but I ain't got none but these."

  But the other boys told him the fine clothes would come fast enough,after they should have begun their adventures. They made him understandthat his poor rags would do to begin with, though it was customary forwealthy pirates to start with a proper wardrobe.

  Gradually their talk died out and drowsiness began to steal upon theeyelids of the little waifs. The pipe dropped from the fingers of theRed-Handed, and he slept the sleep of the conscience-free and the weary.The Terror of the Seas and the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main hadmore difficulty in getting to sleep. They said their prayers inwardly,and lying down, since there was nobody there with authority to make themkneel and recite aloud; in truth, they had a mind not to say them atall, but they were afraid to proceed to such lengths as that, lest theymight call down a sudden and special thunderbolt from heaven. Then atonce they reached and hovered upon the imminent verge of sleep--but anintruder came, now, that would not "down." It was conscience. They beganto feel a vague fear that they had been doing wrong to run away; andnext they thought of the stolen meat, and then the real torture came.They tried to argue it away by reminding conscience that they hadpurloined sweetmeats and apples scores of times; but conscience was notto be appeased by such thin plausibilities; it seemed to them, in theend, that there was no getting around the stubborn fact that takingsweetmeats was only "hooking," while taking bacon and hams and suchvaluables was plain simple stealing--and there was a command against thatin the Bible. So they inwardly resolved that so long as they remained inthe business, their piracies should not again be sullied with thecrime of stealing. Then conscience granted a truce, and these curiouslyinconsistent pirates fell peacefully to sleep.