But it made us turn cold and creepy just to think of it, and we said we wouldn’t budge. So Tom was for slipping back there by himself to see if he couldn’t get at the steering-gear and land the ship. We begged and begged him not to, but it warn’t no use; so he got down on his hands and knees, and begun to crawl an inch at a time, we a-holding our breath and watching. After he got to the middle of the boat he crept slower than ever, and it did seem like years to me. But at last we see him get to the professor’s head, and sort of raise up soft and look a good spell in his face and listen. Then we see him begin to inch along again toward the professor’s feet where the steering-buttons was. Well, he got there all safe, and was reaching slow and steady toward the buttons, but he knocked down something that made a noise, and we see him slump down flat an’ soft in the bottom, and lay still. The professor stirred, and says, “What’s that?” But everybody kept dead still and quiet, and he begun to mutter and mumble and nestle, like a person that’s going to wake up, and I thought I was going to die, I was so worried and scared.
Then a cloud slid over the moon, and I ‘most cried, I was so glad. She buried herself deeper and deeper into the cloud, and it got so dark we couldn’t see Tom. Then it began to sprinkle rain, and we could hear the professor fussing at his ropes and things and abusing the weather. We was afraid every minute he would touch Tom, and then we would be goners, and no help; but Tom was already on his way back, and when we felt his hands on our knees my breath stopped sudden, and my heart fell down ‘mongst my other works, because I couldn’t tell in the dark but it might be the professor! which I thought it WAS.
Dear! I was so glad to have him back that I was just as near happy as a person could be that was up in the air that way with a deranged man. You can’t land a balloon in the dark, and so I hoped it would keep on raining, for I didn’t want Tom to go meddling any more and make us so awful uncomfortable. Well, I got my wish. It drizzled and drizzled along the rest of the night, which wasn’t long, though it did seem so; and at daybreak it cleared, and the world looked mighty soft and gray and pretty, and the forests and fields so good to see again, and the horses and cattle standing sober and thinking. Next, the sun come a-blazing up gay and splendid, and then we began to feel rusty and stretchy, and first we knowed we was all asleep.
CHAPTER III. TOM EXPLAINS
WE went to sleep about four o’clock, and woke up about eight. The professor was setting back there at his end, looking glum. He pitched us some breakfast, but he told us not to come abaft the midship compass. That was about the middle of the boat. Well, when you are sharp-set, and you eat and satisfy yourself, everything looks pretty different from what it done before. It makes a body feel pretty near comfortable, even when he is up in a balloon with a genius. We got to talking together.
There was one thing that kept bothering me, and by and by I says:
“Tom, didn’t we start east?”
“Yes.”
“How fast have we been going?”
“Well, you heard what the professor said when he was raging round. Sometimes, he said, we was making fifty miles an hour, sometimes ninety, sometimes a hundred; said that with a gale to help he could make three hundred any time, and said if he wanted the gale, and wanted it blowing the right direction, he only had to go up higher or down lower to find it.”
“Well, then, it’s just as I reckoned. The professor lied.”
“Why?”
“Because if we was going so fast we ought to be past Illinois, oughtn’t we?”
“Certainly.”
“Well, we ain’t.”
“What’s the reason we ain’t?”
“I know by the color. We’re right over Illinois yet. And you can see for yourself that Indiana ain’t in sight.”
“I wonder what’s the matter with you, Huck. You know by the COLOR?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“What’s the color got to do with it?”
“It’s got everything to do with it. Illinois is green, Indiana is pink. You show me any pink down here, if you can. No, sir; it’s green.”
“Indiana PINK? Why, what a lie!”
“It ain’t no lie; I’ve seen it on the map, and it’s pink.”
You never see a person so aggravated and disgusted. He says:
“Well, if I was such a numbskull as you, Huck Finn, I would jump over. Seen it on the map! Huck Finn, did you reckon the States was the same color out-of-doors as they are on the map?”
“Tom Sawyer, what’s a map for? Ain’t it to learn you facts?”
“Of course.”
“Well, then, how’s it going to do that if it tells lies? That’s what I want to know.”
“Shucks, you muggins! It don’t tell lies.”
“It don’t, don’t it?”
“No, it don’t.”
“All right, then; if it don’t, there ain’t no two States the same color. You git around THAT if you can, Tom Sawyer.”
He see I had him, and Jim see it too; and I tell you, I felt pretty good, for Tom Sawyer was always a hard person to git ahead of. Jim slapped his leg and says:
“I tell YOU! dat’s smart, dat’s right down smart. Ain’t no use, Mars Tom; he got you DIS time, sho’!” He slapped his leg again, and says, “My LAN’, but it was smart one!”
I never felt so good in my life; and yet I didn’t know I was saying anything much till it was out. I was just mooning along, perfectly careless, and not expecting anything was going to happen, and never THINKING of such a thing at all, when, all of a sudden, out it came. Why, it was just as much a surprise to me as it was to any of them. It was just the same way it is when a person is munching along on a hunk of corn-pone, and not thinking about anything, and all of a sudden bites into a di’mond. Now all that HE knows first off is that it’s some kind of gravel he’s bit into; but he don’t find out it’s a di’mond till he gits it out and brushes off the sand and crumbs and one thing or another, and has a look at it, and then he’s surprised and glad – yes, and proud too; though when you come to look the thing straight in the eye, he ain’t entitled to as much credit as he would ‘a’ been if he’d been HUNTING di’monds. You can see the difference easy if you think it over. You see, an accident, that way, ain’t fairly as big a thing as a thing that’s done a-purpose. Anybody could find that di’mond in that corn-pone; but mind you, it’s got to be somebody that’s got THAT KIND OF A CORN-PONE. That’s where that feller’s credit comes in, you see; and that’s where mine comes in. I don’t claim no great things – I don’t reckon I could ‘a’ done it again – but I done it that time; that’s all I claim. And I hadn’t no more idea I could do such a thing, and warn’t any more thinking about it or trying to, than you be this minute. Why, I was just as ca’m, a body couldn’t be any ca’mer, and yet, all of a sudden, out it come. I’ve often thought of that time, and I can remember just the way everything looked, same as if it was only last week. I can see it all: beautiful rolling country with woods and fields and lakes for hundreds and hundreds of miles all around, and towns and villages scattered everywheres under us, here and there and yonder; and the professor mooning over a chart on his little table, and Tom’s cap flopping in the rigging where it was hung up to dry. And one thing in particular was a bird right alongside, not ten foot off, going our way and trying to keep up, but losing ground all the time; and a railroad train doing the same thing down there, sliding among the