A resplendent oval form, as large as a filbert, iridescent with subtle light and flashing hues of rose and green, rolled out of a bivalve which he had partially opened. Its satiny sheen gleamed softly in the palm of the old man’s gnarled and dirty hand—a pearl that might glow on the bosom of a houri, or mingle in the splendor of a diadem.
“Avast there, you ol’ money-bags! You’ll founder the ship!” yelled Saunders, as they danced with delirious joy in each other’s arms.
Work was suspended for the day. The prize was proudly and tenderly carried to camp, with great rejoicing.
“Come ’ere, you Jack o’ Clubs, an’ see wot a million dollars looks like!” shouted Sipes to Narcissus, who was hurrying to meet them.
Saunders told me, when we met that night, that “Cookie’s eyes stuck out like grapes, an’ you c’d ’a’ brushed ’em off with a stick w’en ’e seen wot we had.”
Unfortunately the jug was much in evidence. Narcissus responded many times to Sipes’s insistent demands for “that cash-money tune.” The old shipmates danced in the flickering firelight. Vociferous songs awoke the echoes in the surrounding gloom of the damp forest. The big pearl was repeatedly examined, and much speculation was indulged in as to its value, which was considered almost fabulous. The hilarity extended far into the night, until the revellers fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. The jug was left on the grass, and Narcissus fondled it between drinks, while the magnates slumbered.
“It’s only the rich an’ fuzzy that enjoys this life,” observed Sipes with a prolonged yawn, when I came over and woke him in the morning. “Think o’ them val’able clams wot sleeps out there in the bottom o’ the river. The little runts can’t swim ’round, an’ they can’t chase food. They ’ave to take wot’s fed ’em by the current. They can’t smoke ’er talk, an’ they can’t ’ave nothin’ but water to drink. They jest lay there an’ make them little jools fer me an’ Bill. That big feller’d prob’ly been wait’n’ fer us all summer to come ’long an’ save ’im from them mushrats.”
The happy old sailor’s remarks suggested the thought that most of the great intellectual pearls in the world have come from the minds of those who have pondered long in silent and secluded places.
“Hi there, Bill, you ol’ lobster, wake up. I want some breakfast. Where’s that cusséd cookie?” he demanded.
We found poor Narcissus reclining against a tree—a pitiful picture. The jug sat near him. The cup, mouth organ, and his tattered cap were lying about on the grass. A primitive human animal had found satiety in what he craved.