“He gone ter wash his face and hands, an’ comb his hair,” whispered Drusilla. “I speck he gwine ter come buljin’ out’n dat swamp terreckly, an’ den what we gwine do? Ef he look hard at me, I’m gwine ter fall right flat on de groun’ an’ holler loud ez I kin squall.”
“Well, if you do that,” said Buster John, “you’ll scare him, and they say that when a wild hog is scared he gets mad.”
“I do’ know what I’m gwine ter do,” remarked Drusilla, after a pause, during which she seemed to be thinking. “But I tell you now, I feel mighty quare. Ef dey wuz any tree ’roun’ here I’d climb it er break my neck tryin’. You-all is de outdoinest white chillun I ever hear tell un—comin’ way out here from yo’ pa an’ ma des ter be ripped up an’ kilt by a great big ol’ wil’ hog.”
“You know the way back to the wagon,” said Buster John. “Just go there and wait till we come. You make too much fuss anyhow.”
“Go dar by myself!” exclaimed Drusilla. “No, suh! You don’ know me! I wouldn’t go ’cross dat hill dar by myse’f, not fer ham! Uh-uh! I know I ain’t got much sense, but I got mo’ sense dan dat. I wouldn’t mo’ dan git out er sight er you-all fo’ dat ar White Pig would have me. He may be gwine ter ketch me anyhow, but ef he do I’ll be right here where you-all kin see me. You done brung me, en ef I git kilt, you-all will be de ’casion un it. Ef Marster an’ Mistiss done come ter de pass whar dey want de niggers fed ter hogs, an’ wil’ hogs at dat, den I ain’t got no complaints ter make.”
But Buster John and Sweetest Susan were paying the smallest attention to Drusilla. They were watching Aaron, and waiting for the White Pig to make his appearance again. Finally Aaron turned away from the swamp and came to the children, and presently they heard the White Pig coming up behind them, grunting and “goofing,” though not so fiercely as before.
Drusilla turned and saw him coming, and exclaimed: “Dar now! what I tell you. Ef I’d a-started to’rds dat wagon, he’d a got me sho ez de worl’. An’ he may git me yit.” She jumped up and ran towards Aaron for protection. But he shook her in a way to convince her that she would do well to keep quiet.
The White Pig had gone into the swamp, wallowed in the clean water of the branch, and had then come out and gone around half a mile to see that there was no ambuscade. He seemed to be very well satisfied, for he grunted in a good-humored way as he trotted up.
“You didn’t go far enough, White Pig,” said Aaron, “I forgot you were growing old. My men are hid behind the wagon on the other hill. Next time I will bring them nearer—even to the edge of the swamp.”