The Chesterfield advertiser. [volume] (Chesterfield C.H., S.C.) 1884-1978, 1919-08-07

lot WhHt Is known as the Wide Open-
ing II sort of estuary into which a
listiess stream or two crawl through
mangrove bushes from the interior
swamps,
Here, short distance from the
bank, on some slightly ascending
rocky ground, under the spreading
shade of something like Il stretch of
Woodland, Charlie, several years ago,
had built rough log shanty for his
cnml-0ne of two or three camps he
had thus scattered for himself ND and
down the "out islands," where nearly
all the land is no mans, and so every
| mans land. The particular camp at
which we now arrived he had not WIS.,
| tied for II long time
Here Tom brought us our dinner
and the dark began to settle down
upon us. thrillingly lonely, and full Of
strange, desOlate cries of night crea-
lures from the mangrOve swumps that
surrounded our little oasis for miles.
Sailor lay at our feetJ dreaming of to-
norrew'S duck. His masters thoughts
were evidehtly In the same direction.
"HOw are you with gun?" he
asked. turning to the boy.
"Oh, won't brug. had better wait
till tomorrow. But, OF course, you will
nave to lend me IL gun"
" u have beauty for you-just your
weight" replied Charlie. his face
6earirC - ms 1t did only ut the thought
of h's guns, which he kept polished
like teTels and guarded rs jealously
M violinist his violin, or an Arab his
hnrcm.
Dawn was just breaking as I felt
Charles great paw on my shoulder
next morning. He was very serious.
F"r moment, as / sat up, still half
asleep, / thought he had news Of To
bias. But il was only duck.
was scarcely dressed when Tom
arrived with breakfast, and in IL few
minutes we had shouldered our guns
Dnd were crossing the half mile of
rraty waste that divided us from the
mari lakes. Ahead of us. the crew
were carrying the skiffs on their shOul
ders. and very soon we were each
seated in regulation fashion on n can.
vas chair in front of our respective
skiifs, with our guns across our knees
and II negro behind us to do the pol.
ing.
Charlie went ahead, with Sailor.
standing in the bow qulvering with ex-
citcmcnt. The necessity of absolute
silence, of course, had been impressed
upon us all by the most severe of all
sDortsmen. Tom (who was polling me)
and l understood that our job, and
also that of my companion, was to
steal behind one mangrove copse after
another till we had got Vn the other.
side OF quacking flock of teal
which might then be expected to- take
flight In Charlie's direction and rush
by him In n terrified whrlwind. This
not very easy feat of stalking we were
abb. to accomplish, thereby winning
Charles immense approval and put
ting him I'm u splendid temper for the
rest of the day; for, as the wild cloud
swept oyer him, he was able to bring
down no less than seven. Like true
sportsman, in telling the story after.
ward in John Saunders snuggery, he
averred tiat the number was nine!
The days that now followed for q
week might be said to be accurate
copies of that first day. But they were
none the less delightful for that-for
there is II samcness that Is far indeed
from mosOtOny-thOugh will confess
that, for my own tastes, toward the
weekend the carnage Of duck began
to partake little Of that latter quail
hp rIin Co
happy that 1 wouldn't have let them
suspect that for the world.
Besides, I had my wonderful young,
friend, to whom / grew daily more at
taehed. I found myself feeling drawn
to him as / can imagine u young fa-
ther is drawn to a young son! and
sometimes / seemed to see In his eyes
the suggestion of confidence ne was
ON the edge Of making me-a whim-
steal, pondering expression, as though
wondering whether he dare to tell me
or not.>
what is 1t, Jack?" I asked him for
once when, enrly In our acquaintance,
we had asked him what we were to
call him, he had answered with a
laugh: "Oh, call me Jack-Jack Hark-
away. That is my name when l go
on adventures. Tell me your adven.
ture names. I-don't want your prosaic
everyday names" "Weil," had re-
piled, entering into the lads humor
"my friend here Is Sir Francis Drake,
and |, well-Tm Sir Henry Morgan"
what is It. Jack?" repeated.
But ne shook his head.
"No" he replied, 81 like you ever
80 much-and wish I could; but
mustn't"
Somebody else's secret agaih7"
'eptured.
"Yes" And he added: "This time
It's mine, too. But-sOme day per-
haps; who knows2--" He broke of
m b6yish confusion.
"AIl right, dear Jack" said, patting
hin shoulder, take your own time.
We're friends anyway