After Grandpa, Uncle Owen, and Hamp had gone over to Hamp’s place to organize a meeting about searching for the hog bandits again, Henry sat on the swing behind Huck and me with his hand on my shoulder. I sat on the porch floor next to Huck.
“Elsie Mae,” Henry said. “It’s gonna be OK. Uncle Zeke won’t let ’em take Huck away.
“Lord, comfort Elsie with yer love.” Henry prayed over me like I was kneeling at the church altar instead of crying about losing my dog.
I finally lifted my head and wiped my face with the back of my hand. I turned and looked at Henry.
“We’ve gotta go find those hog bandits,” I said in a croaky voice.
“What?” Henry asked.
“It might be the only way fer me to save Huck,” I said. “Let’s go!”
Henry knew not to argue with me in the sorrowful state I was in, so he followed me.
“C’mon, Huck,” I yelled behind me as I hurried down the porch steps and slapped my leg.
Oblivious to all the heartache that was going on around him, Huck lifted his sleepy head, stood up, and loped down the steps after us.
When we got down to the swamp’s edge, I saw the newspaper still lying in the bottom of Uncle Owen’s boat. I grabbed it and unwrapped it, and thankfully, the handkerchief was still tucked safely inside. The three of us stepped into the boat and settled into our usual spots.
“Listen,” I said to Henry. “First, we’re goin’ to head back to Hollow Log Pond.”
“Oh, Lord, have mercy,” Henry groaned. “I was ’fraid ya was gonna say that.”
“Once we git there,” I said as I pushed us away from the landing, “we’re goin’ to let Huck smell that handkerchief that we found the other day to git the scent of those bandits, and then we’ll let him lead us right to ’em.”
“Elsie Mae?” Henry asked. “Do ya really think that’s a good idea?”
Henry already knew me well enough to know the answer to his question, so I didn’t bother answering. I just turned the boat toward the waterway leading to Hollow Log Pond.
As the boat cut through the narrow passage that was becoming so familiar to Henry and me, he asked another question. “How ya figurin’ findin’ those hog bandits is gonna help ya keep Huck?”
“Well,” I said, “I’m hopin’ if we find the hog bandits, ol’ Sheriff Jones will be so grateful to us fer what we done that he’ll let me keep Huck as a reward.”
Even as I said those words out loud, I felt my stomach scrunch up in a big old knot because I really wasn’t sure the sheriff would do something like that. But what else could I do? If I didn’t do anything, it might only be a matter of time before Sheriff Jones showed up again, this time with the Pierce County Sheriff’s Department and proof of everything Sheriff Jones said. Then there’d be no hope of me hanging on to Huck.
We finally got to the pond, and it was as dark and as damp as it always was, but for some reason, the place didn’t seem all that scary any more. Even for Henry. He wasn’t rocking or praying or anything. He actually had his eyes wide open.
The thing was that I was a lot more afraid of losing Huck than of the dangers that might be lurking in Hollow Log Pond.
“OK, boy,” I said, taking the handkerchief all the way out of the folded-up newspaper. “It’s yer turn to be a hero.”
Huck opened his sleepy eyes, but he didn’t even lift his head.
“Do ya really think this’ll work?” Henry asked.
I wasn’t sure. Would Huck really be able to find the bandits? And if he did, would it really mean that I’d get to keep him?
Instead of answering Henry’s question, I just said, “Maybe ya should jus’ start prayin’, Henry. We could use all the help we can git with this.”
“Dear Lord, we know yer power is great,” Henry began.
“Huck,” I said, turning to put the handkerchief in front of his nose, “c’mon and smell this.”
Huck just lay there and didn’t seem at all interested. I wondered what the officers who trained Huck said when they wanted him to find someone. There had to be some sort of official command, but I sure didn’t know what it was.
I kept the handkerchief under his nose and tried something else: “Go git ’im!”
And this time, Huck lifted his head and sniffed at the handkerchief, and I felt a flutter of excitement in my scrunched-up, worried stomach. After he sniffed, he stood up on the seat, lifted his head in the air, and sniffed.
“Henry!” I said, interrupting his prayers. “It’s workin’. Huck smells somethin’.”
We both looked at Huck and then at each other.
“Hallelujah!” Henry yelled. “My prayers’ve been answered!”
“OK, Henry,” I said. “Yer gonna have to sit up front with Huck and somehow figure out which way he wants us to go, and I’ll keep directin’ the boat that way.”
With his sniffing, Huck led us around the edge of Hollow Log Pond, but then he just kept leading us in the same direction, and we circled the pond again. Henry and I looked at each other and sighed. Maybe this wasn’t going to work after all.
“Maybe we should let ’im smell it again,” Henry suggested, so he put the handkerchief back up under Huck’s snout.
“Go git ’im, boy,” I commanded.
And Huck continued with his sniffing, leading us around the pond again, but this time when we passed a waterway on the far side of the swamp leading west, Huck scratched the wooden seat of the boat and stuck his head in the direction of that waterway.
“He’s tellin’ us to go through that channel,” I said excitedly.
“Hallelujah, Huck!” Henry exclaimed. “Good boy!”
So, we just kept following Huck’s directions and paying attention to every which way he wanted us to go. We wound in and out of little waterways and ducked under and in between branches. Sometimes he’d lead us one way, only to make us turn around and head a different direction altogether. After more than an hour, we were way over by Suwannee Creek near Cravens Hammock, and I wasn’t so sure Huck was really leading us anywhere in particular. What I was sure of was that if Grandma knew how far we were from Honey Island, she would certainly be using her scolding voice with us when we got home.
“Henry, maybe ya should start prayin’ again,” I said as I sat down on the middle seat of the boat to rest my legs.
Henry leaned over the side of the boat, swirled a gator hole, and slurped a big drink of water. Then he made one for Huck, who leaned over and lapped up a drink too.
“Lord, ya already know what kind of predicament we’re in,” Henry began praying as he wiped his hand across his mouth to catch the extra drips of water. “Please give us a sign.”
I leaned over, swirled a whirlpool with my hand, and sucked up some cool swamp water and let it trickle down my throat. Then I splashed some water on my face, and as I lifted my head, I saw something between the trees over in the distance.
“Henry!” I whispered, standing up and squinting in the hot sun to get a better look. “Henry! I think there’s a lean-to over there on that little island.”
“Hallelujah, it’s a sign!” Henry said a little bit too loud.
“Shh!” I said. “There might be somebody in there.”
My heart beat hard inside my chest. Maybe Huck really had led us right to the bandits and the somebody in there was the real hog bandits. This really would be a perfect place for the bandits to hide out. After they stole the hogs, they could’ve hidden them at Hollow Log Pond. Later, they could’ve moved the hogs over here to this lean-to. Then, when the bandits were ready, they could take the hogs down Suwannee Creek to the river and finally out of the Okefenokee. And once they were out, it would be easy to go into Williamsburg or Fargo and sell the hogs without anyone ever knowing where the hogs came from.
Huck scratched at the seat, wanting us to move forward again straight for where the lean-to was. Now that we were here and might have found the hog bandits for real, I wasn’t exactly sure what to do next.
Thankfully, Henry must’ve sensed my uncertainty because he already had his eyes closed and was rocking back and forth in prayer.
I moved the boat a little closer to the island to get a better look so that I could see if there was any activity, but I didn’t see any movement. I knew the only way to get to the lean-to was by boat, so I scanned the swamp’s edge looking for a boat lying in the bushes somewhere. The closer we got to the island, the more convinced I was that there wasn’t anyone in that lean-to because there wasn’t a boat anywhere in sight.
“The bandits are probably off doin’ some low-down, no-good thing,” I whispered to Henry. “All we have t’do is wait for ’em to come back.”
“Oh, Lord, have mercy, Elsie Mae,” Henry wailed, opening his eyes. “Do ya really think that’s a good idea?”
“’Course I do,” I said. “We’re goin’ to hide in those bushes over there,” I explained, pointing.
And as I pushed us toward the bushes, so we could crouch underneath them and wait, my stomach flip-flopped back and forth between being excited about being a hero and scared to death that I wouldn’t be a big enough one to keep from losing Huck.