Part 91

The log table was set and the duck ready before Haltren could hunt up the jug of mineral water which Tiger had buried somewhere to keep cool.

When he came back with it from the shore he found her sitting at table with an exaggerated air of patience.

They both laughed a little; he took his seat opposite; she poured the coffee, and he dismembered the duck.

"You ought to be ashamed of that duck," she said. "The law is on now."

"I know it," he replied, "but necessity knows no law. I'm up here looking for wild orange stock, and I live on what I can get. Even the sacred, unbranded razor-back is fish for our net--with a fair chance of a shooting-scrape between us and a prowling cracker. If you will stay to dinner you may have roast wild boar."

"That alone is almost worth staying for, isn't it?" she asked, innocently.

There was a trifle more color in his sunburned face.

She ate very little, though protesting that her hunger shamed her; she sipped her coffee, blue eyes sometimes fixed on the tall palms and oaks overhead, sometimes on him.

"What was that great, winged shadow that passed across the table?" she exclaimed.

"A vulture; they are never far away."

"Ugh!" she shuddered; "always waiting for something to die! How can a man live here, knowing that?"

"I don't propose to die out-doors," said Haltren, laughing.

Again the huge shadow swept between them; she shrank back with a little gesture of repugnance. Perhaps she was thinking of her nearness to death in the inlet.

"Are there alligators here, too?" she asked.

"Yes; they run away from you."

"And moccasin snakes?"

"Some. They don't trouble a man who keeps his eyes open."

"A nice country you live in!" she said, disdainfully.

"It is one kind of country. There is good shooting."

"Anything else?"

"Sunshine all the year round. I have a house covered with scented things and buried in orange-trees. It is very beautiful. A little lonely at times--one can't have Fifth Avenue and pick one's own grape-fruit from the veranda, too."

A silence fell between them; through the late afternoon stillness they heard the splash! splash! of leaping mullet in the lagoon. Suddenly a crimson-throated humming-bird whirred past, hung vibrating before a flowering creeper, then darted away.

"Spring is drifting northward," he said. "To-morrow will be Easter Day--Pasque Florida."

She rose, saying, carelessly, "I was not thinking of to-morrow; I was thinking of to-day," and, walking across the cleared circle, she picked up her paddle. He followed her, and she looked around gayly, swinging the paddle to her shoulder.

"You said you were thinking of to-day," he stammered. "It--it is our anniversary."

She raised her eyebrows. "I am astonished that you remembered.... I think that I ought to go. The Dione will be in before long--"

"We can hear her whistle when she steams in," he said.

"Are you actually inviting me to stay?" she laughed, seating herself on the soap-box once more.