The excitement was gone, now, and Tom and Joe could not keep back thoughts of certain persons at home who were not enjoying this fine frolic as much as they were.
Misgivings came; they grew troubled and unhappy; a sigh or two escaped, unawares.
By and by Joe timidly ventured upon a roundabout "feeler" as to how the others might look upon a return to civilization-not right now, but-
Tom withered him with derision! Huck, being uncommitted as yet, joined in with Tom, and the waverer quickly "explained," and was glad to get out of the scrape with as little taint of chicken-hearted home-sickness clinging to his garments as he could.
Mutiny was effectually laid to rest for the moment.
As the night deepened, Huck began to nod, and presently to snore.
Joe followed next.
Tom lay upon his elbow motionless, for some time, watching the two intently.
At last he got up cautiously, on his knees, and went searching among the grass and the flickering reflections flung by the campfire.
He picked up and inspected several large semi-cylinders of the thin white bark of a sycamore, and finally chose two which seemed to suit him.