The Scarlet Plague | Page 3

it
such funny things."
The old man sighed but did not answer, and they moved on in silence.
The surf grew suddenly louder, as they emerged from the forest upon a
stretch of sand dunes bordering the sea. A few goats were browsing
among the sandy hillocks, and a skin-clad boy, aided by a
wolfish-looking dog that was only faintly reminiscent of a collie, was
watching them. Mingled with the roar of the surf was a continuous,
deep-throated barking or bellowing, which came from a cluster of
jagged rocks a hundred yards out from shore. Here huge sea-lions
hauled themselves up to lie in the sun or battle with one another. In the
immediate foreground arose the smoke of a fire, tended by a third
savage-looking boy. Crouched near him were several wolfish dogs
similar to the one that guarded the goats.
The old man accelerated his pace, sniffing eagerly as he neared the fire.
"Mussels!" he muttered ecstatically. "Mussels! And ain't that a crab,
Hoo-Hoo? Ain't that a crab? My, my, you boys are good to your old
grandsire."
Hoo-Hoo, who was apparently of the same age as Edwin, grinned.
"All you want, Granser. I got four."

The old man's palsied eagerness was pitiful. Sitting down in the sand as
quickly as his stiff limbs would let him, he poked a large rock-mussel
from out of the coals. The heat had forced its shells apart, and the meat,
salmon-colored, was thoroughly cooked. Between thumb and forefinger,
in trembling haste, he caught the morsel and carried it to his mouth. But
it was too hot, and the next moment was violently ejected. The old man
spluttered with the pain, and tears ran out of his eyes and down his
cheeks.
The boys were true savages, possessing only the cruel humor of the
savage. To them the incident was excruciatingly funny, and they burst
into loud laughter. Hoo-Hoo danced up and down, while Edwin rolled
gleefully on the ground. The boy with the goats came running to join in
the fun.
"Set 'em to cool, Edwin, set 'em to cool," the old man besought, in the
midst of his grief, making no attempt to wipe away the tears that still
flowed from his eyes. "And cool a crab, Edwin, too. You know your
grandsire likes crabs."
From the coals arose a great sizzling, which proceeded from the many
mussels bursting open their shells and exuding their moisture. They
were large shellfish, running from three to six inches in length. The
boys raked them out with sticks and placed them on a large piece of
driftwood to cool.
"When I was a boy, we did not laugh at our elders; we respected them."
The boys took no notice, and Granser continued to babble an
incoherent flow of complaint and censure. But this time he was more
careful, and did not burn his mouth. All began to eat, using nothing but
their hands and making loud mouth-noises and lip-smackings. The third
boy, who was called Hare-Lip, slyly deposited a pinch of sand on a
mussel the ancient was carrying to his mouth; and when the grit of it bit
into the old fellow's mucous membrane and gums, the laughter was
again uproarious. He was unaware that a joke had been played on him,
and spluttered and spat until Edwin, relenting, gave him a gourd of
fresh water with which to wash out his mouth.

"Where's them crabs, Hoo-Hoo?" Edwin demanded. "Granser's set
upon having a snack."
Again Granser's eyes burned with greediness as a large crab was
handed to him. It was a shell with legs and all complete, but the meat
had long since departed. With shaky fingers and babblings of
anticipation, the old man broke off a leg and found it filled with
emptiness.
"The crabs, Hoo-Hoo?" he wailed. "The crabs?"
"I was fooling Granser. They ain't no crabs! I never found one."
The boys were overwhelmed with delight at sight of the tears of senile
disappointment that dribbled down the old man's cheeks. Then,
unnoticed, Hoo-Hoo replaced the empty shell with a fresh-cooked crab.
Already dismembered, from the cracked legs the white meat sent forth
a small cloud of savory steam. This attracted the old man's nostrils, and
he looked down in amazement.
[Illustration: This attracted the old man's nostrils 033]
The change of his mood to one of joy was immediate. He snuffled and
muttered and mumbled, making almost a croon of delight, as he began
to eat. Of this the boys took little notice, for it was an accustomed
spectacle. Nor did they notice his occasional exclamations and
utterances of phrases which meant nothing to them, as, for instance,
when he smacked his lips and champed his gums while muttering:
"Mayonnaise! Just think--mayonnaise! And it's sixty years since the
last