As the
struggling fish splashed on the surface the groper, abandoning its
illegitimate prey, swerved swiftly downwards. The retreat was a second
too late, for Tom had seized the, harpoon lying athwart the boat, and
though the fish appeared through a fathom and a half of water, a vague,
fleeting, contorted shadow, he reached it. The barbed point passed
through it, carrying a foot or two of the line, and a 30-pounder was
added to our catch at one stroke and without a tremor of excitement on
Tom's part.
He sailed his punt--12 feet long and 4 feet wide--6 miles, loaded with
eight adults, eight piccaninnies, five dogs, a cat, blankets for the
crowd, and all the frowsy miscellanea of a black's camp. It was not a
boatload that landed on the beach: it was a procession. But Tom would go
to sea on a chip. His skill as a sailor of small boats is largely a
manifestation of characteristic caution, his precept being--"Subpose big
seas come one, one--all right. Subpose come two, two--look out!"
"LITTLE JINNY"
In Life and In Death
She was called "Little Jinny" to distinguish her from another of the
blacks about the place--a great, good-natured, giggling creature who
laughs perpetually and grows ever fatter.
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