Wood was plentiful. I soon returned with an armful. The other bum came up with the can from the creek and began breaking up some twigs to start the fire. He barely looked at me. “Take a look around the jungle, kid, and see if you can find a pan,” he ordered.
“What in hell do you want a pan for?” asked the one that sent me after wood. “Are you going to fry some water?” The other was on his hands and knees blowing up the weak fire. He stood up and looked at the speaker with a most superior air. “Not so fast, brother, not so fast. I’ve got a gump in my bindle.”
He unrolled his blankets and produced a live chicken, big and fat.
The other bum was humbled. “A gump!” he muttered, “and me carrying a fryin’ pan with me for the last week.” He dived into his bindle and got the pan.
The owner of the chicken took the pan and held it between his eye and the fire looking for holes in it. “It’ll do,” he said. “More wood, kid,” they both ordered.
We were three strangers well met under the bridge; one had a chicken, one coffee and a stale loaf of bread. I had nimble legs and gathered the firewood.
The gump was picked, cleaned, unjointed, and put in the pan with neatness and despatch that would have done credit to any chef. The coffee boiled fragrantly in the tin can. The owner of the stale loaf hacked it into three equal parts with his strong pocketknife, while the chicken man deftly turned sections of the bird with a sharp-pointed stick.
“This is a pretty snide jungle,” he said, “no cans. Throw your feet, kid, and get some cans for the Java.”
I scurried around and was lucky to find one small can in the dark. The cook inspected it. “Go down and wash it, bring it back half full of water an’ I’ll boil it out.”
I washed the can and brought it back. The chicken and coffee were cooked and cooling near the fire. The cook scalded out the small can and filled it with coffee. He held out the pan of chicken to the other bum and then to me, helping himself to a piece last. The small can of coffee was now cool enough to drink, and was handed around in the same order. The first bum took several swallows and passed it to me. I handed it to the cook without drinking any. He looked at me for the first time.