They found plenty of things to be delighted with, but nothing to be astonished at.They discovered that the island was about three miles long and a quarter of a mile wide, and that the shore it lay closest to was only separated from it by a narrow channel hardly two hundred yards wide.They took a swim about every hour, so it was close upon the middle of the afternoon when they got back to camp.They were too hungry to stop to fish, but they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, and then threw themselves down in the shade to talk.But the talk soon began to drag, and then died.The stillness, the solemnity that brooded in the woods, and the sense of loneliness, began to tell upon the spirits of the boys.They fell to thinking.A sort of undefined longing crept upon them.This took dim shape, presently -- it was budding homesickness.Even Finn the Red-Handed was dreaming of his doorsteps and empty hogsheads.But they were all ashamed of their weakness, and none was brave enough to speak his thought.
For some time, now, the boys had been dully conscious of a peculiar sound in the distance, just as one sometimes is of the ticking of a clock which he takes no distinct note of.But now this mysterious sound became more pronounced, and forced a recognition.The boys started, glanced at each other, and then each assumed a listening attitude.There was a long silence, profound and unbroken; then a deep, sullen boom came floating down out of the distance.
"What is it!" exclaimed Joe, under his breath.
"I wonder," said Tom in a whisper.
"'Tain't thunder," said Huckleberry, in an awed tone, "becuz thunder --""Hark!" said Tom."Listen -- don't talk."They waited a time that seemed an age, and then the same muffled boom troubled the solemn hush.
"Let's go and see."
They sprang to their feet and hurried to the shore toward the town.They parted the bushes on the bank and peered out over the water.The little steam ferryboat was about a mile below the village, drifting with the current.Her broad deck seemed crowded with people.There were a great many skiffs rowing about or floating with the stream in the neighborhood of the ferryboat, but the boys could not determine what the men in them were doing.Presently a great jet of white smoke burst from the ferryboat's side, and as it expanded and rose in a lazy cloud, that same dull throb of sound was borne to the listeners again.
"I know now!" exclaimed Tom; "somebody's drownded!""That's it!" said Huck; "they done that last summer, when Bill Turner got drownded; they shoot a cannon over the water, and that makes him come up to the top.Yes, and they take loaves of bread and put quicksilver in 'em and set 'em afloat, and wherever there's anybody that's drownded, they'll float right there and stop.""Yes, I've heard about that," said Joe."I wonder what makes the bread do that.""Oh, it ain't the bread, so much," said Tom; "I reckon it's mostly what they SAY over it before they start it out.""But they don't say anything over it," said Huck."I've seen 'em and they don't.""Well, that's funny," said Tom."But maybe they say it to themselves.Of course they do.Anybody might know that."The other boys agreed that there was reason in what Tom said, because an ignorant lump of bread, uninstructed by an incantation, could not be expected to act very intelligently when set upon an errand of such gravity.
"By jings, I wish I was over there, now," said Joe.
"I do too" said Huck "I'd give heaps to know who it is."The boys still listened and watched.Presently a revealing thought flashed through Tom's mind, and he exclaimed:
"Boys, I know who's drownded -- it's us!"They felt like heroes in an instant.Here was a gorgeous triumph; they were missed; they were mourned; hearts were breaking on their account; tears were being shed; accusing memories of unkindness to these poor lost lads were rising up, and unavailing regrets and remorse were being indulged; and best of all, the departed were the talk of the whole town, and the envy of all the boys, as far as this dazzling notoriety was concerned.This was fine.It was worth while to be a pirate, after all.
As twilight drew on, the ferryboat went back to her accustomed business and the skiffs disappeared.The pirates returned to camp.They were jubilant with vanity over their new grandeur and the illustrious trouble they were ******.They caught fish, cooked supper and ate it, and then fell to guessing at what the village was thinking and saying about them; and the pictures they drew of the public distress on their account were gratifying to look upon -- from their point of view.But when the shadows of night closed them in, they gradually ceased to talk, and sat gazing into the fire, with their minds evidently wandering elsewhere.The excitement was gone, now, and Tom and Joe could not keep back thoughts of certain persons at home who were not enjoying this fine frolic as much as they were.Misgivings came; they grew troubled and unhappy; a sigh or two escaped, unawares.By and by Joe timidly ventured upon a roundabout "feeler" as to how the others might look upon a return to civilization -- not right now, but --Tom withered him with derision! Huck, being uncommitted as yet, joined in with Tom, and the waverer quickly "explained," and was glad to get out of the scrape with as little taint of chicken-hearted homesickness clinging to his garments as he could.Mutiny was effectually laid to rest for the moment.
As the night deepened, Huck began to nod, and presently to snore.Joe followed next.Tom lay upon his elbow motionless, for some time, watching the two intently.At last he got up cautiously, on his knees, and went searching among the grass and the flickering reflections flung by the camp-fire.He picked up and inspected several large semi-cylinders of the thin white bark of a sycamore, and finally chose two which seemed to suit him.Then he knelt by the fire and painfully wrote something upon each of these with his "red keel"; one he rolled up and put in his jacket pocket, and the other he put in Joe's hat and removed it to a little distance from the owner.And he also put into the hat certain schoolboy treasures of almost inestimable value -- among them a lump of chalk, an India-rubber ball, three fishhooks, and one of that kind of marbles known as a "sure 'nough crystal." Then he tiptoed his way cautiously among the trees till he felt that he was out of hearing, and straightway broke into a keen run in the direction of the sandbar.