“Which it won’t do in time for you to kill the squirrels you were thinking of as a possible substitute for chicken. Perish the thought. It is utterly unworthy. You and I are out after spring chickens, Tom.”
“Good! Do you think we can find any?”
“With the aid of the currency of our country as an excitant of the negro imagination, we can.”
“You saw chickens at the negro quarters last night, then?”
“No, I did not. But I observed a large pan on a shelf in front of one of the cabins, and with more curiosity than politeness I stood up on my tiptoes and looked into it. Tom, that pan was more than half full of chicken feed, and it was fresh at that. Knowing the habits of persons of the colored persuasion, I am entirely certain that no one of them would have taken the trouble to prepare that chicken feed unless he was the happy possessor of chickens. I’m going to call upon the dusky proprietor of that pan this morning.”
“That’s another case of noticing, Cal, and another proof of its value. We are likely to have broiled spring chickens for dinner to-day just because you observed that pan of chicken feed. What else did you notice up there? I ask solely out of curiosity.”
“There wasn’t much else to observe. I saw some fig bushes but they’ve been stripped. Otherwise we should have had some figs for breakfast this morning. Just now I observe that the fog is manifesting a decided tendency to resolve itself into rain, and if it does, that we must satisfy Larry’s conscience by getting away from our present camp this afternoon—or as soon as the fog is sufficiently cleared away. So you and I must hurry on if we’re to have those broiled chickens.”
As results proved, Cal was mistaken in his reckoning of the time necessary to dissipate the fog. It was merely taking the form of what is known as a “Scotch mist,” which does not form itself into rain drops and fall, but collects in drops upon whatever it touches, saturating clothing even more speedily than actual rain does and making all but the sunniest dispositions uncomfortable.
But even a Scotch mist condition served to thin the fog a little, though by no means enough to make navigation possible. Larry watched conditions anxiously, as Cal expected him to do, and his first question when Cal and Tom returned with their chickens revealed his state of mind.