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Updated: June 26, 2025
"Wes," she asked, "what made you get so mad last Thursday and beat old Pomp so?" He turned toward her in genuine surprise. "I wasn't mad; not much, that is. And all I laid on Pomp's tough old hide couldn't hurt him. He's as mean as a mule, that old scoundrel. Gets me riled every once in a while." "I wish you wouldn't ever do it again. It scared me almost to death." "Scared you!" he laughed.
Morgan darted out a hand to catch Pomp's arm, but the boy was too quick, and dodged behind me. "Let him be," I said; "he doesn't know any better." "But I want to teach him better," grumbled Morgan. "Hist! Mass' George. I find great 'gator." "Where?" I asked, eagerly, for I had long had an idea that I should like to see another of the monsters. "Down by de ribber.
"Oh, Mass' George, why didn't you run?" Poor Pomp's voice rang out from close beside me in despairing tones, and I wrenched my head round, just catching a glimpse of him through the canes.
Now he disappears, Cato remarking to his companions that if he had Pomp's knowledge and learning he would not thank anybody to make him a white man. Presently there is a stir in the group: all eyes are turned up the road, and the cry is, "Dare da comes."
I muttered. "How dare you go and sleep soundly when I am so tired out that I can't?" At last in utter despair I rose, pulled off my loose coat so as only to retain shirt and breeches, bathed my face in a bucket just outside, and could not resist the temptation to sprinkle a few drops on Pomp's face as he lay there fast asleep in the shade.
Many handsome black cats show brown in the strong sunlight, or when their fur is parted. But old Pomp's fur was jet black clear through, and in the sunshine looked as if he had been made up of the richest black silk velvet, his eyes, meanwhile, being large and of the purest amber.
"You shouldn't speak so of your mother, Pomp. She's a good mother to you, and works hard to earn money to support you." "Yes, Mass' Frank," said Pomp, who was getting impatient to go. "I guess I'll go home and help her." Frank thought that what he had said was producing a good effect. He did not know the secret of Pomp's haste.
I was just in the act of rising cautiously and very slowly, when a sharp pain in the fleshy part of my leg made me spring forward in agony, dashing the water in Pomp's face, knocking the wallet and its contents over sidewise, and in my pain and rage I seized the boy to begin cuffing him, while he wrestled with me to get away, as we hugged and struggled like two fighting men in a melee on the same horse.
Oh, Mass' George, lookye here lookye dah." The boat was drifting now, and turning slowly side on to the shore, when my father made a sign, and I left my gun lying across the box and crept into Pomp's place, while my father seized the boy's hand, held it tightly, detached the arrow with a tug from where it stuck in the oar, and then as I began to row he pulled Pomp down into the bottom of the boat, the boy sobbing with the pain.
"Yes. Be still, or you'll make it leap at us." "Why, dat lil tree." There was a tone of such astonishment in the boy's voice that I bent lower and lower down, knowing how much better Pomp's eyes were than mine; and as I looked, I saw that the object was clear, and that it was indeed a low patch of shrub getting plainer and plainer rapidly now, for it was morning once more.
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