"With all my heart," was the reply; "and I think no one will object to our having a fat roast pig for our Sunday's dinner."
"Probably not," Harold rejoined, "and I am still more in favour of the idea, for the reason that, as we take such game alive, we can keep it as long as we will."
Their preparation for the excursion consisted simply in splitting an armful of lightwood, which Harold tied into a bundle, to be readily slung over the shoulders by a strap. In the midst of their preparations Frank came up, and on learning their purpose, almost shouted for joy. He had so often heard Sam and William speak of the pleasure of their 'possum hunts, that it had long been the height of his ambition, as a sportsman, to engage in one; but for various reasons the convenient time had never yet come.
"O, I am so glad!" he exclaimed, with a face lighted with pleasure; "you will let me go, won't you?"
Here now was a dilemma. How could they refuse him? and yet how could they with propriety leave Mary with no other companion than poor bed-ridden Sam? The boys saw no alternative but to give up the hunt, until Robert proposed himself to stay with Mary, on condition that Frank should carry the torch and light-wood, while Harold bore the ax and gun. But to their gratification, Frank, perceiving the difficulties of the case, and ashamed to rob his brother of a place which he himself was incompetent to fill, set the matter at rest, by saying:
"No, brother, I will not go tonight; I will wait and go with Cousin Harold some time when Sam gets well. But you must give me the pigs when you come back, and let me feed them every day."
They praised him sincerely for his act of self-denial, and promised that he should be no loser on account of it. Soon as it was dark they bid him good-night, and departed. He stood in the tent door, happy in the thought of their pleasure, and watched the animated motions of boys and dogs, as the red light flashed upon the trees, and the whole party became gradually lost from sight in the forest.
The boys had not proceeded a half mile, before the quick sharp bark, first of Mum, then of Fidelle, gave indications of their having "treed" some kind of game. Hastening to the spot, they saw the dogs looking eagerly up a slender, tall persimmon, and barking incessantly. For a time they could discover nothing in its branches, or on its body; and had begun almost to conclude that (in hunter's phrase) their dogs had lied, when Harold took the torch, waved it to and fro behind him, walking thus around the tree, and keeping his eyes fixed on those places where he supposed the opossum to be. Presently he cried out, "We have him! I see his eyes! Mum, poor fellow," patting his head, "you never lie, do you?" Mum wagged his expressive tail with great emphasis, as much as to say that he perfectly understood both the slander and the recantation, and that he now desired nothing but the privilege of giving that 'possum a good shake. Robert also took the light, and holding it behind him, saw amid a bunch of moss two small eyes glistening in the dark. The aim was so fair that the gun might have been used with certainty, were it not against all hunting rule; an opossum must be caught, not killed. The boys plied their ax upon the yielding wood, the eyes of the now silent dogs being fixed alternately upon the game above and the work below. The tree cracked and toppled. Mum's ears stood perfectly erect; and ere the branches had time to sway back, from their crash upon the ground, he was among them, growling at something upon which he had pounced. It was the opossum; and like all the rest of its tribe when in the presence of an enemy, it seemed to be stone dead. They took it up by its scaly, rat-like tail, and again went on.
In the course of a short walk they took a second, and on their way back, a third. These were quite as many as they could conveniently carry; and taking their captives home, they made them secure, by tying a forked stick around the neck of each, on the plan of a pig-yoke. From the moment that these singular animals found themselves in the power of their enemies, they put on all the usual appearances of death; not a muscle twitched, nothing stirred or trembled; each limb was stiff, and each eye closed; not even the growl or grip of the dogs was sufficient to disturb their perfect repose. Robert could scarcely persuade himself that they were not really dead. Harold laughed.
"They can stand the crash of a tree and the worrying of dogs," he said, after they were made secure; "but there is one thing which they cannot stand. See here!" and he poured a cupful of cold water on each. The shock seemed to be electric. Each dead opossum was galvanized into life, and pulled stoutly to break away from its wooden fetters. "Now let us to bed."