Adventures of Col. Daniel Boone | Page 3

got up and turned around in my tracks
three times and crossed my breast every time; and then I tied up a little
lock of my hair with a thread to keep witches away. But I hadn't no
confidence. You do that when you've lost a horseshoe that you've found,

instead of nailing it up over the door, but I hadn't ever heard anybody
say it was any way to keep off bad luck when you'd killed a spider.
I set down again, a-shaking all over, and got out my pipe for a smoke;
for the house was all as still as death now, and so the widow wouldn't
know. Well, after a long time I heard the clock away off in the town go
boom--boom--boom--twelve licks; and all still again--stiller than ever.
Pretty soon I heard a twig snap down in the dark amongst the trees--
something was a stirring. I set still and listened. Directly I could just
barely hear a "me-yow! me-yow!" down there. That was good! Says I,
"me-yow! me-yow!" as soft as I could, and then I put out the light and
scrambled out of the window on to the shed. Then I slipped down to the
ground and crawled in among the trees, and, sure enough, there was
Tom Sawyer waiting for me.
CHAPTER II.
WE went tiptoeing along a path amongst the trees back towards the end
of the widow's garden, stooping down so as the branches wouldn't
scrape our heads. When we was passing by the kitchen I fell over a root
and made a noise. We scrouched down and laid still. Miss Watson's big
nigger, named Jim, was setting in the kitchen door; we could see him
pretty clear, because there was a light behind him. He got up and
stretched his neck out about a minute, listening. Then he says:
"Who dah?"
He listened some more; then he come tiptoeing down and stood right
between us; we could a touched him, nearly. Well, likely it was
minutes and minutes that there warn't a sound, and we all there so close
together. There was a place on my ankle that got to itching, but I dasn't
scratch it; and then my ear begun to itch; and next my back, right
between my shoulders. Seemed like I'd die if I couldn't scratch. Well,
I've noticed that thing plenty times since. If you are with the quality, or
at a funeral, or trying to go to sleep when you ain't sleepy--if you are
anywheres where it won't do for you to scratch, why you will itch all
over in upwards of a thousand places. Pretty soon Jim says:

"Say, who is you? Whar is you? Dog my cats ef I didn' hear sumf'n.
Well, I know what I's gwyne to do: I's gwyne to set down here and
listen tell I hears it agin."
So he set down on the ground betwixt me and Tom. He leaned his back
up against a tree, and stretched his legs out till one of them most
touched one of mine. My nose begun to itch. It itched till the tears
come into my eyes. But I dasn't scratch. Then it begun to itch on the
inside. Next I got to itching underneath. I didn't know how I was going
to set still. This miserableness went on as much as six or seven minutes;
but it seemed a sight longer than that. I was itching in eleven different
places now. I reckoned I couldn't stand it more'n a minute longer, but I
set my teeth hard and got ready to try. Just then Jim begun to breathe
heavy; next he begun to snore--and then I was pretty soon comfortable
again.
Tom he made a sign to me--kind of a little noise with his mouth--and
we went creeping away on our hands and knees. When we was ten foot
off Tom whispered to me, and wanted to tie Jim to the tree for fun. But
I said no; he might wake and make a disturbance, and then they'd find
out I warn't in. Then Tom said he hadn't got candles enough, and he
would slip in the kitchen and get some more. I didn't want him to try. I
said Jim might wake up and come. But Tom wanted to resk it; so we
slid in there and got three candles, and Tom laid five cents on the table
for pay. Then we got out, and I was in a sweat to get away; but nothing
would do Tom but he must crawl to where Jim was, on his hands and
knees, and play something on him. I waited, and it seemed a good
while, everything was so still and lonesome.
As soon as Tom was back we cut along