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Title: Mass' George
       A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah

Author: George Manville Fenn

Illustrator: W.T. Smith

Release Date: May 4, 2007 [EBook #21320]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MASS' GEORGE ***




Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England





Mass' George, by George Manville Fenn.

________________________________________________________________________

George Bruton, son of Captain Bruton is a young teenager.  His father's
plantation is in Georgia.  The time is around the middle of the
eighteenth century.  Although not keen on the idea of slavery, Captain
Bruton determines that he will buy one of them and will try to treat him
extremely well.  The man has a son, whom the family nickname Pompey,
Pomp for short.  Eventually these two become relaxed, realising that
there will be no hard treatment for them, and the two boys, George and
Pomp, become fast friends.  They have various adventures, including
attacks by alligators, floods, fire, Red Indians, Spaniards, snakes,
ants, and several other nasties.

The book very largely consists of dialogue between the two boys,
starting at the point when Pomp can barely speak English, which he soon
masters after a fashion (which his father never does), and going on to
the point when Captain Bruton decides to free the two slaves, who had
comported themselves well during a prolonged series of attacks by
Indians, and later by Spaniards from Florida as well.

It's quite a long book, but the action is well-sustained, and you will
enjoy it.  NH

________________________________________________________________________

MASS' GEORGE, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.



CHAPTER ONE.

Interesting?  My life?  Well, let me see.  I suppose some people would
call it so, for now I come to think of it I did go through a good deal;
what with the fighting with the Spaniards, and the Indians, and the
fire, and the floods, and the wild beasts, and such-like adventures.
Yes; it never seemed to occur to me before, you know, me--George Bruton,
son of Captain Bruton of the King's army, who went out with the General
to help colonise Georgia, as they called the country after his Majesty
King George the Second, and went through perils and dangers such as no
one but English gentlemen and their brave followers would dare and
overcome.

You'll find it all in your histories; how the General had leave to take
so many followers, and carve out for themselves land and estates in the
beautiful new country.

My father was one of the party.  He went, for he was sick at heart and
despondent.  He had married a sweet English lady--my mother--and when I
was about six years old she died; and after growing more and more
unhappy for a couple of years, his friends told him that if he did not
seek active life of some kind, he would die too, and leave me an orphan
indeed.

That frightened him so that he raised himself up from his despondent
state, readily embraced the opportunity offered by the General's
expedition, sold his house in the country to which he had retired on
leaving the army, and was going out to the southern part of North
America with me only.  But Sarah would not hear of parting from me, and
begged my father to take her to be my attendant and his servant, just as
on the same day Morgan Johns, our gardener, had volunteered to go with
his master.  Not that he was exactly a gardener, though he was full of
gardening knowledge, and was a gardener's son; for he had been in my
father's company in the old regiment, and when my father left it,
followed him down and settled quite into a domestic life.

Well, as Morgan Johns volunteered to go with the expedition, and said
nothing would suit him better than gardening in a new country, and doing
a bit of fighting if it was wanted, and as our Sarah had volunteered
too, it fell out quite as a matter of course, that one day as my father
was seated in his room writing letters, and making his final
preparations for his venturesome journey, and while I was seated there
looking at the pictures in a book, Morgan and Sarah came in dressed in
their best clothes, and stood both of them looking very red in the face.

"Well?" said my father, in the cold, stern way in which he generally
spoke then; "what is it?"

"Tell him, Sarah," I heard Morgan whisper, for I had gone up to put my
hand in hers.

"For shame!" she said; "it's you who ought."

"Now look you," said Morgan, who was a Welshman, and spoke very Welshy
sometimes, "didn't you just go and promise to help and obey?  And the
first thing I tells you to do you kicks."

"I am very busy," said my father.  "If you two want a holiday, say so."

"Holiday, sir?  Not us," said Morgan, in a hesitating way.  "We don't
want no holiday, sir, only we felt like as it was our dooty to tell you
what--"

"To tell me what?"

"Yes, sir; seeing as we were going out to a savage country, where you've
got to do everything yourself before you can have it, and as there'd be
no parsons and churches, we thought we'd get it done decent and
'spectable here first."

"My good fellow, what do you mean?" said my father.

"Why, what I've been telling of you, sir.  Sarah says--"

"I did not, Morgan, and I shouldn't have thought of such a thing.  It
was all your doing."

"Steady in the ranks, my lass.  Be fair.  I'll own to half of it, but
you know you were just as bad as me."

"I was not, sir, indeed," cried Sarah, beginning to sob.  "He deluded me
into it, and almost forced me to say yes."

"Man's dooty," said Morgan, dryly.

"What!" cried my father, smiling; "have you two gone and been married?"

"Stop there, sir, please, begging your pardon," said Morgan; "I declare
to gootness, you couldn't make a better guess than that."

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Sarah, who was very red in the face
before, but scarlet now; and as I sit down and write all this, as an old
man, everything comes back to me as vividly as if it were only
yesterday--for though I have forgotten plenty of my later life, all this
is as fresh as can be--"I beg your pardon, sir, but as you know all the
years I have been in your service, and with my own dear angel of a
mistress--Heaven bless her!"

"Amen," said my father, and, stern soldier as he was, I saw the tears
stand thick in his eyes, for poor Sarah broke down and began to sob,
while Morgan turned his face and began to blow his nose like a trumpet
out of tune.

"I--I beg your pardon for crying, sir, and it's very weak, I own,"
continued Sarah, after a few minutes' interval, during which I hurriedly
put my arm round her, and she dabbed down and kissed me, leaving my face
very wet; "but you know I never meant to be married, but when Morgan
comes to me and talks about what I was thinking about--how you and that
poor darling motherless boy was to get on in foreign abroad, all amongst
wild beasts and savages, and no one to make a drop o' gruel if you had
colds, or to make your beds, or sew on a button, and your poor stockings
all in holes big enough to break any decent woman's heart, and to Master
George's head--"

"I can wash my own head well enough now, Sarah," I said.

"Yes, my dear; but I don't believe you'd do it as well as I could, and
you know I never let the soap get in your eyes.  And when, sir, Morgan
comes to me, and he asks me if I'd got the heart to let you both go out
into the wilderness like that without a soul to look after you, and
tells me as it was my dooty to marry him, and go out and look after the
housekeeping for you both, while he did the garden, what could I say?"

Poor Sarah paused quite out of breath.

"Say?" said my father, smiling, but looking very much moved.  "You could
only say _yes_, like the good, true-hearted woman you are."

"Oh, sir!" exclaimed Sarah.

"You have both relieved me of a great deal of care and anxiety by your
faithful, friendly conduct," continued my father, "for it will make what
I am going to seek in the wilderness quite a home at once.  It is not
the wilderness you think, for I know on very good authority that the
place where we are going is a very beautiful and fertile country."

"Can't come up to Wales," said Morgan, shaking his head.

"Perhaps not," said my father, smiling; "but very beautiful all the
same.  I ought to warn you both, though, while there is time to draw
back, that the land is entirely new."

"What, wasn't it made with the rest of the world, sir?" said Morgan,
staring.

"Yes, of course," said my father; "but I mean it has never been
inhabited more than by a few Indians, who passed through it when
hunting.  No houses; not so much as a road."

"Then there won't be no taverns, Sarah," said Morgan, giving her a
nudge.

"And a very good thing too," she replied.

"So that," continued my father, "I shall have to help cut down the trees
to build my own house, make my own furniture, and fence in the estate--
in short, do everything."

"Well, I don't see nothing to grumble at in that, sir, so long as
there's plenty of wood," said Morgan.

"There'll be too much wood, my man," said my father, smiling, "and we
shall have to ply the axe hard to clear our way."

"Any stone or slate, sir?"

"Plenty of stone, but no slate that I am aware of."

"No," cried Morgan, triumphantly.  "I knew there'd be no slate.  That
proves as it won't come up to Wales.  There isn't such a country for
slate anywhere as Wales.  Well, sir, but even if there's no slate, we
can make shift.  First thing we do as soon as we get out, will be for me
to rig the missus up a bit of a kitchen, and we shall take a few pots
and pans in a box."

"Oh, I shall go well provided with necessaries," said my father.

"Then pray don't forget a frying-pan, sir.  It's wonderful what the
missus here can do with a frying-pan."

"Do be quiet, Morgan Johns," said Sarah.

"Shan't," he growled.  "I'm a-telling of the truth.  It's wonderful,
sir, that it is.  Give her a frying-pan and a bit o' fire, and we shan't
never hurt for a bit o' well-cooked victuals."

"But--" began my father, when Morgan rushed in again.

"Washin', sir, I forgot all about the washing.  We shall want a tub and
a line.  Trees 'll do for tying up to, and you'll see we shall none of
us ever want for clean clothes."

"Do be quiet, Morgan."

"I shan't, Sarah.  It's only fair as the master should know what you can
do, look you."

"But I wish you people to think seriously now, while there is yet time,"
said my father.

"Seriously, sir?  Oh yes, we've been thinking of it seriously enough,
and--I say, missus, do try and do without flat-irons; they're very heavy
kind o' traps for a man to take in his kit."

"Come, come," said my father; "you had better think better of it, and
not embrace such a rough life."

"We have thought better on it, sir, and the very best too.  We're
coming, and if you won't take us, we'll come without.  And look you,
sir, of course you'll take some guns, and swords, and powder and shot."

"Of course."

"Then don't forget some tools: spades, and hoes, and seeds, and some
carpenter's things and nails.  You can't think what a deal can be done
with a hammer, a saw, and a few nails."

"Then you mean to come?"

"Mean to come, sir?" cried Morgan, in astonishment.  "Why we got married
o' purpose; didn't we, Sarah?"

"Oh yes, sir; that's the very truth."

"And we shall be obliged to go now."

I did not see where the obligation came in, but I supposed it was all
right.

"Then I can only say thank you heartily," cried my father, warmly; "and
for my part, I'll do my duty by you both."

"Of course we know that, don't we, Sarah?  Or else we shouldn't go."

"My dear master!" said Sarah, and she bent forward and kissed his hand
before clapping her handkerchief to her eyes, and rushing out of the
room.

"She'll be all right, sir, soon," whispered Morgan.  "And look you, I'll
begin getting together all sorts of little tackle, sir, as I think 'll
be useful out yonder.  Knives and string, and--look you, Master George,
strikes me as a few hooks and lines wouldn't be amiss.  A few good fish
in a frying-pan, cooked as Sarah can cook 'em, arn't to be sneezed at
now and then."

He gave us both a sharp nod, and hastily followed his wife, while I
stayed to pester my father with endless questions about our new home.



CHAPTER TWO.

The month which followed was one scene of excitement to me.  We went
into lodgings in Bristol, and my father seemed to be always busy making
purchases, or seeing the different gentlemen who were going out with us
in the same ship.

I recollect many of their faces.  There was the General, a firm,
kindly-looking man, who always seemed to me as if he could not possibly
be a soldier, he was too quiet.  Then there was Colonel Preston, a
handsome, florid gentleman, ten years older than my father, and I heard
that his wife, two sons and daughter were to be of the party.

In a misty kind of way, too, I can recollect that the gentlemen who came
and had long talks with my father, used to chat about the plantations in
Virginia and Carolina, and about a charter from the King, and that the
place we were going to was to be called Georgia, because the King's name
was the same as mine.

Then, too, there was a great deal of talk about the enemy; and as I used
to sit and listen, I understood that the Spaniards were the enemy, and
that they lived in Florida.  But every one laughed; and my father, I
remember, said gravely--

"I do not fear anything that the Spaniards can do to hinder us,
gentlemen, I am more disposed to dread the climate."

A great deal that followed has now, at this time of writing, become
confused and mixed up; but I can remember the cheering from the wharves
as our ship floated away with the tide, people talking about us as
adventurers, and that soon after it came on to blow, and my next
recollections are of being in a dark cabin lit by a lantern, which swung
to and fro, threatening sometimes to hit the smoky ceiling.  I did not
pay much heed to it though, for I was too ill, and the only consolation
I had was that of seeing Sarah's motherly face by the dim light, and
hearing her kindly, comforting words.

Then, after a very stormy voyage, we seemed, as I recollect it, to have
glided slowly out of winter into summer, and we were off a land of
glorious sunshine at the mouth of a river, up which we sailed.

I know there was a great deal done afterwards in the way of formal
taking possession in the name of the King, and I can recollect being
delighted with the show that was made, and at seeing my father and the
other gentlemen wearing gay clothes and sashes and plumes, and with
swords buckled on.  Even Morgan partook of the change, and I well recall
how he came to me just before he landed, in a kind of grenadier uniform,
with sword and musket and belts, drawing himself up very stiff and
proud-looking as he let down the butt-end of his firelock with a loud
bang upon the deck.

"Do I look all right and soldierly, Master George?" he whispered, after
a glance round to see that he was not overheard.

"Yes," I said, "you look fine.  Is your gun loaded?"

"Not yet, my lad."

"Pull out your sword and let's look at it."

"By and by, my lad," he said; "but tell me; I do look all right, don't
I?"

"Yes.  Why?"

"Because Sarah's got a nasty fit on this mornin'.  Don't tell her I told
you; but she said I looked fit to be laughed at, and that there'd be no
fighting for me: Indians would all run away."

"Oh, never mind what she says," I cried.  "I wish I was big enough for a
soldier."

"Wait a bit, boy, you'll grow," he said, as he busily tightened a
well-whitened belt.  "You see it's so long since I've been soldiering,
that I'm a bit out of practice."

There was no enemy, Indian or Spaniard, to oppose us, and before long
the land had been roughly surveyed and portioned out, my father, as an
officer of good standing, being one of the earliest to choose; and in a
very short time we were preparing to go out on the beautiful little
estate that had become his, for the most part forest-land, with a patch
or two of rich, easily-drained marsh on both sides of a little stream
which ran, not far away, into the great river up which we had sailed,
and upon which, just below us, was to be formed the new city.

Then time glided on, and as I recall everything I can, I have
recollections of the gentlemen of the expedition, and common men,
soldiers and others, coming with their swords and guns to our place, and
all working hard together, after setting sentries and scouts to give
warning of danger, and cutting down trees, and using saws, and helping
to roughly build a little wooden house, and put up a fence for us.

Then, after getting our things in shelter, my father and Morgan joined
in helping to build and clear for some one else; and so on, week after
week, all working together to begin the settlement, till we were all
provided with rough huts and shelters for the valuable stores and
ammunition brought out.  After which people began to shift for
themselves, to try and improve the rough places first built.



CHAPTER THREE.

With a new place, every touch makes a difference; and when some of those
touches are given by the hand of a gardener, nature begins to help.

It was so at our Georgia home.  Every bit of time my father or Morgan
could find to spare, they were digging, or trimming, or planting, till
Sarah would set to and grumble to me because they would not come in to
their meals.

"I wouldn't care, sir," she would say, "only the supper's getting
spoiled."

"But the home made more beautiful," replied my father; and then I have
heard him say as he glanced through the window at flower and tree
flourishing wonderfully in that beautiful climate, "If my poor wife had
lived to see all this!"

Early and late worked Morgan, battling with the wild vines and beautiful
growths that seemed to be always trying to make the garden we were
redeeming from the wilderness come back to its former state.  But he
found time to gratify me, and he would screw up his dry Welsh face and
beckon to me sometimes to bring a stick and hunt out squirrel, coon, or
some ugly little alligator, which he knew to be hiding under the roots
of a tree in some pool.  Then, as much to please me as for use, a punt
was bought from the owners of a brig which had sailed across from
Bristol to make her last voyage, being condemned to breaking up at our
infant port.

The boat, however, was nearly new, and came into my father's hands
complete, with mast, sail, ropes, and oars; and it was not long before I
gained the mastery over all that it was necessary to learn in the
management.

Morgan's fishing-tackle came into use, and after a little instruction
and help from the Welshman, I began to wage war upon the fish in our
stream and in the river, catching, beside, ugly little reptiles of the
tortoise or turtle family--strange objects to be hauled up from muddy
depths at one end of a line, but some of them very good eating all the
same.

The little settlement throve as the time went on, and though the Indians
were supposed to be threatening, and to look with very little favour
upon the settlement so near their hunting-grounds, all remained
peaceful, and we had nothing but haughty overbearing words from our
Spanish neighbours.

To a man the officers and gentlemen who had come out turned their
attention to agriculture, and many were the experiments tried, and
successfully too.  At one estate cotton was growing; at another, where
there was a lot of rich low land easily flooded, great crops of rice
were raised.  Here, as I walked round with my father, we passed broad
fields of sugar-cane, and farther on the great crinkled-leaved Indian
corn flourished wonderfully, with its flower tassels, and beautiful
green and then orange-buff ears of hard, sweet, flinty corn.

Then came long talks about the want of more help, and one of the
settlers braved public opinion, and every one began to talk about how
shocking it was for an English gentleman to purchase slaves.  But before
many months had passed there was hardly a settler without slave labour,
the principal exception being my father.

It is hard to paint a picture in words, but I should like those who read
this to understand what my home was like when I was about twelve years
old, a great strong healthy boy, with cheeks burned brown by the sun.

Our place began with one low erection, divided by a rough partition into
two--our room and the Morgans'; most of our meals being eaten in the big
rustic porch contrived by Morgan in what he called his spare time, and
over which ran wildly the most beautiful passion-flower I had ever seen.

But then as wood was abundant, and a saw-pit had been erected, a more
pretentious one-floored cottage residence was planned to join on to the
first building, which before long was entirely devoted to the servants;
and we soon had a very charming little home with shingle roof, over
which beautiful creepers literally rioted, and hung down in festoons
from our windows.

Every day seemed to mellow and beautify this place, and the wild garden
dotted with lovely cypresses and flowering shrubs, mingled with every
kind of fruit-tree that my father and Morgan had been able to get
together.  Over trellises, and on the house facing south, grape-vines
flourished wonderfully.  Peaches were soon in abundance, and such fruits
familiar to English people at home as would bear the climate filled the
garden.

My father's estate extended for a considerable distance, but the greater
part remained as it had been tilled by nature, the want of assistance
confining his efforts to a comparatively small garden; but he used to
say to me, in his quiet, grave way--

"We might grow more useful things, George, but we could not make the
place more beautiful."

And I often used to think so, as I gazed out of my window at the wild
forest, and the openings leading down to the stream and away to the
swamp, where I could hear the alligators barking and bellowing at night,
with a feeling half dread, half curiosity, and think that some day I
should live to see one that I had caught or killed myself, close at
hand.

Now and then Morgan used to call me to come and see where a 'gator, as
he called it, had been in the night, pointing out its track right up to
the rough fence of the garden.

"You and I'll have a treat one of these days, my lad."

"Yes," I used to say; "but when?"

"Oh, one of these days when I'm not busy."

"Ah, Morgan," I used to say, impatiently, "when you're not busy: when
will that be?"

"Be?  One o' these days when we've cut down all the wood, and turned all
that low flat swamp into plantation.  You see I'm so busy just now."

"Oh, very well," I said, "I shall go by myself."

"That you won't, look you," he cried.  "I heard you promise your father
you wouldn't go alone.  You're not much of a boy, but you're too good to
feed alligators with, or let the rattlesnakes and 'cassins try their
pyson on."

"But they wouldn't, I should take care."

"Take care?  Do you know, there's 'gators big as trees in these
swamp-holes.  I shouldn't wonder if there's some of the old
open-countenanced beauties big round as houses.  Why, Master George, I
believe there's fellows out there as old as the river, and as could take
you as easy as I do a pill."

"Don't believe it."

"_Ve_-ry well then; only mind, if one does take you across the middle,
give you a pitch up in the air, and then catch you head-first and
swallow you, don't you blame me."

"Why, how could I, if he swallowed me?"  I said.

"Oh, I don't know.  You might holler or knock, if you had a stick in
your hand."

"What stuff!"

"Oh, is it!  There's plenty of room in 'em, and they're as hard as horn.
But you take my advice, and don't try."

"Well, then, come with me; I know several holes where I think they
live."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I've seen the footmarks leading down to them all plain in the
mud."

"Then you've been going too far, and don't you run no risks again."

I walked away discontentedly, as I'd often walked away before, wishing
that I had a companion of my own age.

Some of the gentlemen settled out there had sons; but they were away,
and at times the place seemed very lonely; but I fancy now that was only
just before a storm, or when everything felt strange and depressing.  At
other times I was happy enough.  Every morning I had three hours' good
study with my father, who very rarely let me neglect that.  Then in the
afternoon there was always something to do or something to see and help
over.  For, as far as my father's means would allow, he planned and
contrived endless things to make our home more attractive and
convenient.

One week it would be the contriving of rough tree-trunk steps down from
the bank to the water's edge, so that the boat was easily reached, and
ringbolts were driven into cut-down trees, which became natural posts
for mooring the boat.

Another time during one of our walks, he stopped by a lovely pool out
toward the swamp--a spot of about an acre and a half in extent, where
the trees kept off the wind, and where the morning sun seemed to light
up the bottom, showing every pebble and every fish as if seen through
crystal glass.

"There," he said, "that will be ten times better than bathing in the
river.  I always feel a little nervous about you there.  This shall be
your own private bathing-pool, where you can learn to swim to your
heart's content.  That old fallen hickory will do for your
dressing-room, and there are places to hang up your clothes.  I don't
think you can come to harm here."

Of course I was delighted, and at the same time a little disappointed;
for the fact that the pool was perfectly safe took away somewhat from
its attractiveness, and I began to think that there was no stream to
carry one along; no very deep places to swim over and feel a thrill at
the danger; no holes in the banks where an alligator might be smiling
pleasantly as he thought how good a boy would be to eat.



CHAPTER FOUR.

I am obliged to run quickly through my early unadventurous days,
skipping, as it were, from memory to memory of things which happened
before life became serious and terrible for us all at the plantation,
and storms and peril followed rapidly after the first pleasant calm.
For it seems to me now, as I sit and think, that nothing could have been
happier than the life on the river during the first days of the
settlement.  Of course, everybody had to work hard, but it was in a land
of constant sunshine, of endless spring and summer days--cold weather
was hardly known--and when a storm came, though the thunder and
lightning were terrible and the rain tremendous, everything afterwards
seemed to bound into renewed life, and the scent of the virgin forest
was delightful.  All worked hard, but there was the certain repayment,
and in what must have been a very short time, the settlers had raised a
delightful home in the wilderness, where all was so dreamy and peaceful
that their weapons and military stores seemed an encumbrance, and many
felt that they would have done more wisely if they had brought
agricultural implements instead.

Before we left England, as I have told you, the adventurers who met at
my father's rooms talked of the ruthless savage--the lurking Indian of
the forest and prairie, and also of our neighbours the Spaniards; but as
soon as we reached the place, it seemed to all that the Indians did not
exist; and as to the Spaniards, they were far south, separated by long
stretches of open land, forests, river, and swamp, and might, for aught
we knew, be at the other side of the world.

I was sitting indoors one bright sunny day, and I had just reached
finishing distance with a Latin translation my father had left me to do,
when I heard a quick "Hist!"  Looking up, I saw Morgan at the window.

"'Most done?" he said.

"Yes."

"Then come along, I'll show you something."

I bounded out, to find him armed with a stick about six feet long,
provided with a little fork at the end made by driving in a couple of
nails and bending them out.

"What is it?"  I cried, excitedly.

"Enemy.  Get yourself a good stout stick."

"Rake-handle do?"

"Yes, capital."

I ran to the tool-shed and came back directly, panting.

"Now," I said, "what enemy is it--an alligator?"

"No.  You said you didn't believe there were any snakes here.  I've got
one to show you now."

"Yes; but where?"

"Never you mind where.  All you've got to do is to creep after me silent
like; and when you see me pin him down with this fork, you can kill
him."

"But what a cowardly way," I cried; "it isn't fair."

"Well, look you, I never did see such a boy as you are, Master George.
Do you know what sort of a snake it is?"

"How should I?  You wouldn't tell me."

"Well, you talk as if it was a little adder, foot and half long, or a
snake at home that you might pick up in your hand.  Why, it's a real
rattlesnake."

"Oh!"  I exclaimed, excitedly.

"Over six foot long, and as thick as my wrist."

"Pooh!"  I said, with my imagination full of boa-constrictors big enough
to entwine and crush us up.  "That's nothing!"

"Nothing!  Do you know one bite from a fellow like this will kill a man?
And you talk about fighting fair.  Nice lot of fairness in the way they
fight.  You come along, and promise to be very careful, or I shan't go."

"Oh, I'll be careful," I said.

"But if you feel afraid, say so, and I'll go alone."

"I don't feel afraid," I replied; "and if I did," I added with a laugh,
"I wouldn't say I was."

"Not you," he muttered, and he held up a finger, and led the way down by
the garden, and from thence into the uncleared forest, where a faint
track wandered in and out among the great, tall, pillar-like trunks
whose tops shut out the light of day, all but where at intervals what
seemed to us like rays of golden dust, or there were silvery-looking
lines of finest cobweb stretching from far on high, but which proved to
be only delicate threads of sunshine which had pierced the great canopy
of leaves.

Beyond this I knew that there was an opening where all was warm and
glowing that was subdued and gloomy now, and it was not long before I
saw, without a doubt, that Morgan was making for this clearing, and in
all probability for one of the patches of stony ground that lay full in
the sunshine, baked and hot.

It was very cool and silent in among the trees, whose great trunks
towered up so high, and though we could hear a chirp now and then far
above us in the leaves, all was as still as possible, not so much as a
beetle or fly breaking the silence with its hum.

There was the opening at last, and as we neared it, the tree-trunks
stood out like great black columns against the warm golden light.

Morgan held up his hand, and for the moment I felt as if we were going
to do something very treacherous, till I recalled reading about some one
having died twenty minutes after the bite of one of these snakes, and
that made me feel more merciless, as I followed my leader, who kept
picking his way, so that his feet should not light upon some dead twig
which would give forth a snap.

The next minute we were out in the sunshine, and here Morgan stopped for
me to overtake him, when he placed his lips close to my ear, and
whispered--

"I'd been over to the bathing-pool to get some o' that white sand out of
the bottom, when as I come back, I see my gentleman coiled up fast
asleep.  He's over yonder, just this side of the pine-trees, left of
that big sugar-loaf--the light-green one."

He pointed to a tall cone-like cypress, and I felt that I knew the
rough, bare, stony place exactly.

"Ready?" he whispered again.

I nodded.

"Then you must walk this time like a cat.  Perhaps he's gone, but he may
be fast asleep still."

He made a point with his fork to show me how he meant to fix the reptile
to the ground, and I took a good grip of my rake-handle, intending to
try and disable the monster by one blow.

This part of our journey was much more tedious than the other, for we
were now getting close to the spot, and we knew that though sometimes it
was possible to walk close by a snake without disturbing it, at other
times the slightest sound would send it gliding rapidly out of sight.

We approached then in the most stealthy way, Morgan holding his fork the
while as if it were a gun, and we were advancing upon the enemy.

Low growth had sprung apace about the clearing, so that we could not get
a sight of the spot till we were close by, when Morgan softly parted the
bush-like growth, peered out, drew back, and signed to me to advance,
moving aside the while, so that I could pass him, and peer out in turn.

I was not long in availing myself of the opportunity; and there, not a
dozen feet from me, lay twisted about, something like a double S, a
large specimen of the serpent I had so often heard about; and a curious
shrinking sensation came over me, as I noticed its broad flat head,
shaped something like an old-fashioned pointed shovel, with the neck
quite small behind, but rapidly increasing till the reptile was fully,
as Morgan said, thick as his wrist; and then slowly tapering away for a
time before rapidly running down to where I could see five
curious-looking rings at the end of the dull grey tail.

"A rattlesnake," I said to myself, as with a kind of fascination I
eagerly looked at the line which marked the gaping mouth showing plainly
in an ugly smile; then at the dull creamy-brown and grey markings, and
the scales which covered the skin, here and there looking worn and
crumpled, and as if it was a trifle too big for the creature that wore
it as if it were a shirt of mail.

I should have stood there staring at the repellent-looking creature for
long enough, had not Morgan softly drawn me back, and then led the way
round to our left, so that we could have the sun behind us, and approach
the dangerous reptile without having to rustle through the bushes close
at hand.

"Mind you keep back, my lad, till I've got him safe," whispered Morgan,
"then hit him hard."

"Is it as dangerous as they say?"  I asked.

"Worse, look you; that's why I want to pin him first.  I might hit him a
good crack, but snakes are hard to kill, and he might throw his head
about and bite even then, though I arn't quite sure even now that they
don't sting with their tails."

"I'm sure they don't," I whispered back.

"Ah, that's all very well, Master George, but I don't see as you can
know much better than me.  Anyhow, I'm going to risk it; so here goes,
and when I say `now,' bring down that rake-handle as big a whop as you
can with both hands, right on his back."

I nodded, and we stood out now on the barren, stony patch close to the
fir-trees, with the sun casting our shadows in a curious dumpy way on
the earth, and our enemy about thirty feet away.

Morgan signed to me to stand still, and I obeyed trembling with
excitement, and eagerly watching as he cautiously approached with his
pole extended before him, ready to make a dart at the snake, whose head
lay half turned for him, and its neck temptingly exposed, ready for the
fork which should hold it down.

On went Morgan, inch by inch, his shadow just before him, and in spite
of his injunction, I could not refrain from following, so as to get a
good view of the encounter; and besides, I argued with myself, how could
I be ready to help unless I was close at hand?

Consequently I stepped on nearer too, till I could see the reptile quite
clearly, distinguishing every scale and noting the dull, fixed look of
its eyes, which did not seem to be closed, for I was not familiar then
with the organisation of snakes.

As Morgan went on the stillness of the clearing seemed terrible, and
once more I could not help thinking of what a treacherous act it was to
steal upon the creature like that in its sleep.

But directly after, the killing instinct toward a dangerous enemy grew
strong within me, and I drew in my breath, my teeth were set fast, and
my fingers tightened about the rake-handle, ready to deliver a blow.

All this took very few minutes, but it seemed to me to last a long time,
and thought after thought ran through my mind, each one suggestive of
danger.

"Suppose Morgan misses it," I said to myself; "it will be frightened and
vicious, and strike at him, and if he is bitten I shall be obliged to
attack it then, and I shall not have such a chance as he has, for the
head will be darting about in all directions."

Then I began to wish I had gone first, and hit at it as it lay, with all
my might.

Too late now, I knew; and as I saw in imagination Morgan lying helpless
there, and myself striking hard at the snake, never taking into
consideration the fact that after a deadly stroke the animal would
rapidly try to escape, and glide away.

Morgan was now so near that I saw the shadow of his head begin to creep
over the snake, and it loomed so black and heavy that I wondered why the
reptile did not feel it and wake up.

Then I stood fast as if turned to stone, as I watched my companion
softly extend the pole he carried, with the fork nearer and nearer the
creature's neck, to remain perfectly motionless for a moment or two.
There was a darting motion, and Morgan stood pressing the staff down as
the serpent leaped into life, writhing, twining, and snapping its body
in waves which ran from head to the tail which quivered in the air,
sending forth a peculiar low, dull, rattling noise, and seeming to seek
for something about which to curl.

"I've got him, Master George.  Come along now; it's your turn."

I sprang forward to see that the evil-looking head was held down close
to the ground, and that the jaws were gaping, and the eyes bright with a
vindictive light, literally glittering in the sun.

"Can you hold him?"  I said, hoarsely.

"Oh, yes; I've got him pretty tight.  My!  See that?  He is strong."

For at that moment the snake's tail struck him, and twined about his
left leg; untwined, and seemed to flog at him, quivering in the air the
while, but only after writhing horribly, twisting round the pole which
pressed it down, and forming itself into a curious moving knot.

"I can't hit at it now," I said, hoarsely; "it will strike away the
pole."

"Yes; don't hit yet.  Wait a bit till he untwissens himself; then give
it him sharp, look you."

"You won't let it go?"  I said.

"Not a bit of it, my lad.  Too fond of Morgan Johns to let him stick his
fangs into me.  Now you've got a chance.  No, you haven't; he's twisted
up tighter than ever.  Never mind, wait a bit; there's no hurry."

"But you are torturing it so," I cried.

"Can't help it, Master George.  If I didn't, he'd torture me and you
too.  Well, he does twissen about.  Welsh eel's nothing to him."

For the snake in its rage and pain kept twining about the pole, treating
that as the cause of all its suffering.  Morgan stood there full of
excitement, but though longing to deliver a blow that should paralyse if
it did not kill our enemy, I could not get the slightest chance.

"Ah, we ought to have had a cut at him before he twined about my pole,"
said Morgan, after this had been going on for some minutes; "but it
wasn't your fault; there wasn't time."

"No," I said, gloomily, "there was no time.  Now then, hold tight."

I made a rapid stroke at the long, lithe body which suddenly untwisted
to its full length, but my rake-handle only struck the ground, for the
serpent was quicker than I, and it threw itself once more in a series of
quivering folds about Morgan's pole.

"Well, he is strong," cried the latter.  "But I have it.  I'm getting a
bit 'fraid he'll work quite a hole, and get out, and I'm not at all sure
that the nails arn't giving.  Look here, Master George; put your hand in
my pocket, and pull out and open my big knife ready for me.  Then you
shall hold the pole, and I'll go down and try and cut his head off."

"But will that be safe?"  I said.  "Hadn't we better leave go and run
away?"

"What, and leave a customer like this free to hunt about our place?  Now
you wouldn't like to do that, I know."

"No; I shouldn't like to do that," I said; "but it would be terrible if
he got away."

"Well then, out with my knife--quick!  I'm beginning to wish we'd left
him alone, for it'll be chizzle for both of us if he do get loose."

I hastily took his knife from his pocket, and opened it.

"That's your style, Master George.  Now then, stick it across my mouth,
and then take hold just under my hands.  You must press it down hard, or
he'll heave himself out, for he's mighty strong, I can tell you.  Got
hold?"

"Yes," I said, as I took hold of the pole, keeping my feet as far away
as I could from the writhing knot, for fear it should suddenly untwine
and embrace my legs.

"That's right, press down hard.  Think you can hold him?"

"I don't know; I think so."

"Now, look ye here, my lad, thinking won't do; you've got to hold him,
and if you feel as you can't you must say so.  Rattlesnakes arn't garden
wums."

"I'll try, and I will hold it," I said.

"There you have it, then," he said, releasing the pole, and leaving it
quivering and vibrating in my hands.  "Now then, I'm going to wait till
he untwines again, and then I'm going to have off his head, if he don't
work it out before.  If he do, you've got to run as hard as you can:
jump right away, my lad, never mind me."

I nodded; I could not speak, and I stood holding down the pole, seeing
the snake striving to draw its head back between the little prongs of
the fork, and knowing that if it did our position would be terrible.

"Now then, hold him tight," cried Morgan; "I'm going to lay hold and
draw him out a bit, so as to get a cut through somewhere."

I did not speak, but pressed down with all my might, feeling my eyes
strained as, with a shudder of dread, I saw Morgan stoop and boldly
seize hold of the snake.

But the touch only seemed to make the great living knot tighten, and
after a try Morgan ceased.

"No," he said, "it won't do.  I shall only drag him out, for I'm not at
all sure about those nails.  I say, my lad, I really do wish we had let
him alone, or had a go at him with a gun."

I tried to answer, but no words would come, and I wanted to look
hopelessly at Morgan, but I could not take my eyes off the great, grey,
writhing knot which was always in motion, heaving and working, now
loosening, now tightening up.

"Hah!" cried Morgan, suddenly, as once more the horrible creature threw
itself out to full length, and he sprang forward to seize the neck just
as a wave ran along the body from tail to head; and as I pressed the
pole down hard, the head rose like lightning, struck Morgan right in the
face, and I saw him fall backward, rolling over and over; while, after
writhing on the ground a moment or two, the snake raised its bleeding
head, and I saw that it was drawing back to strike.

I don't know how it happened exactly; I only can tell that I felt
horribly frightened, starting back as Morgan fell over, and that then,
as the snake was preparing to strike, being naturally slow and weak from
its efforts, the pole I held in both hands came down heavily, and then
again and again, till our enemy lay broken and twisting weakly, its back
broken in two places, and the blood flowing from its mouth.



CHAPTER FIVE.

I was brought to myself again by a hearty shout just as I was trying to
get rid of a shuddering sensation of fear, and wanting to go to Morgan's
help--asking myself what I ought to do to any one who had been bitten by
a rattlesnake.

"Brayvo!  As they say, Master George.  You did give it him well."

"But--Morgan--arn't you stung--bitten, I mean?"  I faltered.

"Me?  No, my lad.  He gave me a flop on the cheek with the back of his
head as he shook himself loose, and I didn't stop to give him another
chance.  But you did bring that down smart, and no mistake.  Let's look
at the end."

He took hold of the pole and examined the place where the two nails had
been driven in to form the fork.

"Yes," he said, thoughtfully.  "I was beginning to be afraid of that--
see here.  This nail's regularly bent down, and it opened the fork out
so that when he snapped himself like a cart-whip he shook himself clear.
Know better next time.  I'll get a bit of iron or an old pitchfork, and
cut the tines down short on purpose for this sort of game, Master
George.  Ah, would you?" he shouted, as he made a dart for where the
snake was feebly writhing itself toward the undergrowth, and catching it
by the tail snatched it back to lie all together, writhing slowly.
"Wait till I find my knife.  Oh, here it is," he said.  "No.  Never
mind, give me yours.  I'll look afterwards.  Dropped it when I rolled
over yonder."

I took out my knife and opened it.

"Oh, I say, my lad, don't look so white.  Wern't 'fraid, were you?"

"Yes," I said, huskily.  "I could not help being frightened."

"Not you," said Morgan, roughly; "you wasn't half frightened, or you
wouldn't have done what you did.  Now then, my gentleman, you're never
going to bite and kill any one, so--there--and there!"

As he spoke he placed one foot a few inches from the rattlesnake's head,
the creature opening its mouth and making a feeble attempt to bite, but
the next moment my keen knife had divided the neck, and Morgan picked up
the piece.

"Now look ye here, Master George, I shouldn't wonder if this gentleman's
got two sharp teeth at the top here like an adder has at home.  They're
the poison ones, and--yes, what did I tell you?"

He laughed as he opened the creature's wide mouth with the blade of the
knife, and drew forward two keen-looking fangs, to show me.

"There you are," he said.  "Just like adders', only theirs is little
tiny things just like a sharp bit of glass, and they lay back in the
roof of their mouths so that you have to look close to see 'em."

"Throw the horrible poisonous thing away," I said.

"Yes; we'll pitch it all together in the river.  Some big alligator will
think it's a fine worm, and I hope he'll like it.  One moment; I must
find my knife."

He threw down the rattlesnake's head, and then said thoughtfully--

"No; let's take it up to the house, Master George, and let your father
see the kind of game he's got on his property.  I'll show it to my Sarah
too, or she won't believe it was such a big one, or got such poison
fangs."

"You'll have to carry it home," I said, with a shudder.

"No, I shan't, Master George, and it's of no use for you to try to make
me believe you're afraid, because I shan't have it.  You killed it, and
I'll twist up a bit o' grass to make a rope, and you shall carry it home
to show master and our Sarah.  I can tie it to the end of the pole.
Stop a minute; where's my knife?--must be just here."

He went straight for the low growth and bushes, and began peering about
while I stood leaning on the pole and looking down at the slightly
heaving form of the serpent, when my attention was taken by a hoarse cry
from Morgan.

"What's the matter?"  I said, as I saw that he was bending forward
staring in among the bushes.

He did not reply, and feeling certain that he had found another
rattlesnake, I raised the pole once more, and went to where he stood,
when my lips parted, and I turned to call for help, but stopped there,
for I found myself face to face with a similar object to that which had
arrested Morgan.  A tall, keen-faced, half-naked Indian stood before me,
with his black hair gathered back and tied up so that a few eagle
feathers were stuck through it; a necklace or two was about his neck and
hanging down upon his breast; a pair of fringed buckskin leggings
covered his legs; and he carried a tomahawk in one hand, and a bow in
the other.

Almost before I could recover from my surprise, I saw that we were
completely surrounded, for at least a dozen more were dotted about the
clearing.

At that moment Morgan seemed to get the better of his start, and backed
to where I stood, with the Indian following him in a slow, stately
manner.

"We're in for it, Master George," whispered Morgan.  "What shall we do--
run?"

"It would be of no use to try," I whispered.

"Not a bit, lad, they'd run us down directly.  Hold up your head, lad;
you arn't afraid of a rattlesnake, so you needn't be afraid of these
furreners.  What are they--Injuns?"

"Yes," I answered; "Red Indians," though I had never seen one before.

"Ah, well, look you, there's nothing to mind--they arn't poisonous.  I
shall ask them what they want.  I say, what are they all coming close up
to us for?"

"I don't know," I said, as I made a strong effort not to be afraid, and
to keep from thinking about the stories I had heard of the Indians'
cruelty, as the party came forward, evidently at a sign from the man who
had faced me, and who wore more feathers than the rest.

"I say, Master George," whispered Morgan again, "hadn't I better ask 'em
what they want?"

"It's of no use.  I don't think they would understand."

"Well," said Morgan, coughing to clear his throat, "I'm a soldier, and
I've been in a fight before now, so I know a little about it.  We're
surprised, Master George, by the enemy, and without arms.  First dooty
is to retreat, and you being my officer, you says we can't."

"I'm sure we can't," I said, talking to Morgan, but looking sharply
round at the Indians, who all stood gazing at us in the sternest and
most immovable way.

"Quite right, lad.  Madness to talk about running, but I'd give all the
wage I've got to take dooring the next ten year, look you, to be able to
let the master know."

"Shall I call to him?"

"Only bring him up to be took prisoner too.  Here, let's make the best
of it," cried Morgan, jauntily.  "How are you, gentlemen?--strangers in
these parts, arn't you?"

The only man to take any notice of this easy-going address was the
Indian I imagined to be the chief, and he uttered a grunt.

"Ah, I thought so.  Nice country isn't it, only we've got some ugly
customers here.--Sure they can't understand, Master George?"

"I feel nearly sure."

"So do I, lad.--Ugly customers, snakes--see?--snakes."

He took the pole quickly from my hand, and at the same moment I saw, as
it were, a shock run through the group of Indians, each man taking
tightly hold of the tomahawk he carried.

But Morgan did not notice it, and thrusting the end of the pole under
the snake, he raised it up.

"See?" he cried.  "We just killed it--no, we didn't, for it isn't quite
dead."

The Indians looked at him and then at the snake, but in the most stolid
way, and I stood wondering what was to come next.

"Know what it is, I suppose?" continued Morgan, who kept on talking in
an excited way, as if to gain time while he tried to think out some
plan, as was really the case; but the audience merely looked on
frowningly, and I saw the chief draw back slightly as Morgan picked up
the head and pointed to its fangs with his finger.

The thoughts of the risk he might be running made me forget for the
moment any that was threatening us from the Indians, and I cried, in
warning tones--

"Be careful; it may be dangerous though it's dead."

"Yes; this seems to be dead," replied Morgan; "but I say, Master George,
I don't know whatever to do."

"Scrape a hole first, and bury that horrid thing," I said; "and then
perhaps we shall see what they are going to do."

"Not to kill us, are they?" he whispered.

I could not help giving a start of horror, and looking wildly round at
the Indians, who stood like so many statues looking on, as, in a hasty,
excited way, Morgan roughly kicked away some of the loose gravel, and
then with the rake-handle scraped out a good-sized hole, into which he
threw the snake's head and dragged the body, raking the loose gravel
back over them and stamping it down.

"Now then, Master George, what 'll us do next?"

"I don't know; let them take us away as prisoners, I suppose.  We must
not try to run away, because they would follow, and we should lead them
home.  Shall we run into the woods?"

"Never get there, my lad," he replied, sadly.  "They'd have us before we
got a hundred yards."

All doubt as to our next proceedings were put an end to at once, for the
chief laid his hand upon my shoulder, and said, in a deep voice,
something which was quite unintelligible to us both.

I shook my head, but he grasped my arm firmly, and pointed toward the
forest.

"He means us to go," I said; and in obedience I walked toward the
darkest part, but the chief checked me, and pointed toward the spot
where our faint track lay which led toward the house; and feeling
constrained to obey, I gave Morgan a disconsolate look, and went slowly
on with the Indian walking by my side.

"We can't help it, Master George," said Morgan.  "Don't be down-hearted,
lad.  Perhaps they don't mean any harm, and let's hope your father or my
Sarah will see us in time to shut up the place, and get the guns down
from the racks."

The distance was very short, but it was the most painful walk I ever
had, for I felt as if I was being the guide to take the enemy right to
the place my father had toiled so hard to win from the wilderness, and
twice over I tried to deviate from the path, and lead the party into the
forest, so as to bear right away from the house.

But it was of no use.  A strong hand gripped my arm instantly; there was
a stern look, a low, deep utterance, and the chief pointed again to the
right track.

It was useless to try and misunderstand him, and at last, after two more
feints, I felt that there was nothing else to be done but to allow
myself to be forced onward.

Just before we came in sight of the house, the chief said something, and
two of the men pushed Morgan forward till he was close to me, and one of
the men walked on his left and the other came behind.

"See what that means, Master George?"

"No; what does it mean?"

"That Indians are clever as white men, and they've put us in the front
rank to keep any one from firing at them."

I saw it plainly enough now, for as we advanced, my father appeared at
the window, and I saw a gun in his hand.

He started as he caught sight of us two prisoners, but feeling, I
suppose, that any attempt at defence was useless under the
circumstances, he left the window for a moment or two, and I heard his
voice speaking.  Then he reappeared, and climbed out of the window, the
door being closed and fastened.

He stepped forward boldly with the firelock resting on his arm, and
walked to where the Indians had halted, holding out his hand in token of
friendship, but it was not taken, the Indians' eyes running from him all
over and about the place, as if they were astonished at what they saw.

"Tell me quickly," said my father, "but be cool.  Everything depends
upon our treating them in a friendly way, and not being afraid."

I told him how we had been surprised, and his face looked very grave as
he listened.

"Well," he said, "we are in their power.  If I fired it might bring
help, but it would be too late to benefit us; and for aught we know, the
rest of the tribe may already be up in the settlement.  Stay with them
and don't attempt to escape."

The Indian chief watched us curiously as my father talked to me, and two
of his men half started forward as my father turned away to go back to
the house.

But a word from the chief checked them, and every eye was fixed upon the
returning figure, as my father walked to the door, beat upon it, called
Sarah to open, and then passed in.

The faces of the Indians were a study, but they preserved their stolid
looks, and uttered a sigh of satisfaction as my father appeared again
with such provisions as the place afforded, and proceeded to offer them
to our visitors.

I watched everything attentively, and saw the men stand fast without
looking either at my father or the provisions which he placed before
them, till the chief said a few words in a loud tone.

Then with an eagerness in sharp contrast to their former apathy, they
seized the food and began to eat.

My father spoke to the chief again and again, and the Indian said
something coldly in reply; but they were wasted words, and the rough
meal was partaken of in comparative silence.

"They only mean to be friendly, father, do they?"  I said at last.

"It is impossible to say; they may prove treacherous," he replied.  "But
don't talk, and if you grasp anything they seem to want, tell me, so
that I can satisfy them.  It would be terrible if they attempted to
destroy all we have been at such pains to get together."

"Couldn't we all make a dart for indoors, sir?" said Morgan, in a
whisper.  "We have got plenty of weepons there, sir, and might manage to
keep them off till help came."

"The risk is too great," said my father.  "These men are as active as
leopards, and before we could get within doors we should each have an
axe in his brain."

"But, begging your pardon, sir, we can all run."

"As fast as a tomahawk can fly?  No; they are peaceful now, and
friendly; let us treat them as friends, and hope that they will soon
go."

At that moment the chief made a sign with his hands to his lips, a sign
that was unmistakable, and a large pail of water was fetched out by
Morgan, and drunk from with avidity.

This done, the Indians sat and stood about watching everything within
reach, while we were in the unpleasantly helpless state of being unable
to speak, or to make them understand, and in the more unpleasant or
perilous position of being unable to grasp their intentions.

As the time went on my father appeared to grow more hopeful.  He had
evidently come to the conclusion that it was useless to attempt
resistance, and he seemed to think that our friendly treatment might win
the respect of these stern, morose-looking men.  Then, all at once, I
saw that his hopes were dashed.  He looked at me wildly, and I saw the
firelock he held tremble in his hand.

"Try and be firm, George," he said, quietly, "and do not look as if I am
saying anything serious to you," he continued, laughing.

"I understand, father," I said, cheerfully, though my heart kept giving
great thumps against my ribs.

"Can you hear what I am saying, Morgan?" continued my father,
pleasantly, and not appearing to pay the slightest attention to the
Indians.

"Every word, sir; but it's hard work, for I want to run indoors to try
and comfort that poor woman who is trembling there."

"So we all do," said my father, and he looked quite merry; "but don't
look like that, man.  It is inviting an attack if these men do mean
evil."

"Right, sir; I am quite laughing now," said Morgan.

"Ah, that's worse," cried my father, "that ghastly grin will ruin us.
There, listen to what I am saying.  When these savages attack us, it
will be in some treacherous way, so as to get the advantage of us
without injury to themselves.  If they do attack, never mind who goes
down, the survivors must rush into the house and defend it to the last,
for that poor woman's sake.  Fight hopefully if I am not with you; for
as soon as firing begins it may bring help from the settlement."

"Then why not fire at once, sir?" cried Morgan, earnestly.

"Because, as I intimated before, it would bring help, but help that came
too late."

The calm forced way in which my father spoke seemed to be the most
terrible part of the whole day's work.  The inaction was bad enough, and
to sit there expecting that at any moment the Indians might turn upon us
and kill us with their axes, made it almost impossible to sit there as
my father wished; but sit there we did, and as my eyes wandered from one
to the other of the weird, fierce-looking Indians, who seemed to be
doing nothing but watch us for an excuse to make an attack, it made my
brain swim.

How it was all burnt into my memory, and how I can picture it all now!
The bright garden, the flowers, and the promise of fruit, and the house
beginning to look more lovely every month; and now in front of it Red
Indians squatting about, or standing with their bows strung, arrows in a
case behind them, and axes in hand, ready at the word from their chief
to spring upon us.

All at once the chief uttered a peculiar sound, and the men who were
seated sprang to their feet, and stood watching the tall, fierce-looking
fellow.

He spoke again, and without a word they all moved off quickly toward the
settlement, making straight for Colonel Preston's estate.

I sat there watching them till the last man had disappeared.  Then all
the bright sunshiny scene around began to swim, and wave, and grow
distant, and all was blank.



CHAPTER SIX.

"Better, my boy?"

"Yes.  What is it?  I felt so sick and strange."

I was lying on my back looking up at my father, who was bending over me
bathing my forehead with cold water.

"The sun--a little overdone.  There, you are better now."

"Ah, I recollect," I said, "Where are the Indians?"

"Hush!  Don't get excited.  They are gone now."

"Yes, I know," I said; "gone to Colonel Preston's."

"Hist!" he cried, as I heard steps close by, and Morgan came hurrying
up.

"Couldn't get far, sir.  I was making haste, and getting close up to the
last man as I thought, when three of the savages jumped up just in my
path, and held up their bows and arrows in a way that said, plain as any
tongue could speak, `go back, or we'll send one of these through you.'"

"The chief knows what he is about," said my father, "and we cannot
communicate.  Now then, get inside, and we will barricade the place as
well as we can, in case of their coming back.  Can you walk now,
George?"

"Yes, father, the giddiness has gone off now," I said; and I sprang up,
but reeled and nearly fell again.

"Take my arm, boy," he said, as he helped me toward the window, and I
climbed in by it, when the first thing my eyes lighted upon was the
figure of our Sarah, down on her knees behind the door with her eyes
shut; but a gun was leaning up against the wall; and as she heard us she
sprang up, seized it, and faced round.

"Oh!  I thought it was the Indians," she said, with a sigh of relief.

"Perhaps we have been frightening ourselves without cause," said my
father, helping Morgan to fix up the strong shutter with which the
window was provided.  "The Indians are gone now."

"Yes," muttered Morgan, so that I could hear, "but they may come back
again.  I don't trust 'em a bit."

"Nor I, Morgan," said my father, for he had heard every word; "but a
bold calm front seems to have kept them from attempting violence.  If we
had been shut up here, and had opened fire, not one of us would now have
been alive."

"Never mind, sir," said Morgan.  "If they come back let's risk it, and
show a bold front here behind the shutters, with the muzzles of our guns
sticking out, for I couldn't go through another hour like that again.  I
was beginning to turn giddy, like Master George here, and to feel as if
my head was going to burst."

"Go up into the roof, and keep a good look-out from the little gratings;
but keep away, so as not to show your face."

"Then you do think they'll come back, sir?"

"Yes, I feel sure of it.  I am even now in doubt as to whether they are
all gone.  Indians are strangely furtive people, and I fully expect that
a couple of them are lying down among the trees to watch us, for fear we
should try to communicate with the others.  I am afraid now that I made
a mistake in settling down so far from the rest.  Ah!  Listen!  A shot.
Yes; there it is again."

"No, sir," said Morgan, "that wasn't a shot: it was--there it goes
again!--and another."

Two distant sounds, exactly like shots, fell again upon our ears.

"Yes," cried my father, excitedly, "the fight has begun."

"Nay, sir, that was only a big 'gator threshing the water up in some
corner to kill the fish," cried Morgan; and he passed up through the
ceiling into the roof.

As Morgan went out of sight, and took his place in the narrow loft
between the sloping rafters, my father busied himself loading guns, and
placing them ready by the openings in the shutters which I had always
supposed were for nothing else but to admit the light.  And as he
worked, Sarah stood ready to hand him powder or bullets, or a fresh
weapon, behaving with such calm seriousness, and taking so much interest
in the work, that my father said, gravely--

"Hardly a woman's task this, Sarah."

"Ah, sir," she replied, quietly; "it's a woman's work to help where she
is wanted."

"Quite right," said my father.  Then, turning to me, he went on, "I am a
soldier, George, and all this is still very horrible to me, but I am
making all these preparations in what I think is the right and wisest
spirit; for if an enemy sees that you are well prepared, he is much less
likely to attack you and cause bloodshed.  We are safe all together
indoors now, and with plenty of protection, so that if our Indian
visitors come again, we are more upon equal terms."

"Do you really think they will come again, father?"  I said.

"I'm afraid so.  We have been living in too much fancied security, and
ready to think there was no danger to apprehend from Indians.  Now we
have been rudely awakened from our dream."

"And if they come shall you shoot, father?"

"Not unless it is absolutely necessary to save our lives.  I cannot help
feeling that we ought to be up at the settlement, but I should have been
unwilling to leave our pleasant home to the mercy of these savages; and,
of course, now it is impossible to go, so we must make the best defence
we can, if the enemy returns."

All this was very startling, and from time to time little shudders of
dread ran through me, but at the same time there was so much novelty and
excitement, that I don't think I felt very much alarmed.  In fact, I
found myself hoping once that the Indians would come back, so that I
could see how they behaved now that we were shut up tightly in our
house, all of which was very reprehensible no doubt; but I am recording
here, as simply and naturally as I can, everything that I can remember
of my boyish life.

The preparations for attack were at last ended, and after securing and
barricading door and window in every way possible, we sat down to wait
for the first sign of the enemy, and I was wondering how long it would
be before we saw the Indians return, when I suddenly awoke to the fact
that I was terribly hungry.

I don't suppose I should have thought of it, though, if Sarah had not
made her appearance with bread and meat all ready cut for us, and very
welcome it proved; Morgan, on receiving his share passed up to him in
the loft, giving me a nod and a smile before he went back to continue
his watch.

And this proved to be a long and weary one.  The afternoon sun slowly
descended; and as it sank lower, I could see that my father's face grew
more and more stern.

I did not speak to him, but I knew what it meant--that he was thinking
of the coming darkness, and of how terribly difficult our watch would
be.

"Yes," he said, suddenly, just as if he had heard my thoughts; "they are
naturally quiet, stealthy people, and the darkness will give them
opportunities which would be full of risk by day.  I am afraid that they
are waiting in ambush for the night, and that then they will come on."

"I hope not," I thought; but I would not have let my father see how
frightened I was for all the world; and trying to be as cheerful as I
could under the circumstances, I went up and joined Morgan to help him
watch from the latticed openings in the roof, with the garden gradually
growing more gloomy, and the trees of the forest beyond rapidly becoming
black.

Then darker and darker, and there was no moon that night till quite
late.

Beyond the possibility of there being some reptile about that had
crawled up from the river, hungry and supper-hunting, there had never
seemed to be anything about home that was alarming, and night after
night I had stolen out to listen to the forest sounds, and scent the
cool, damp, perfumed air; but now there was a feeling of danger at hand,
lurking perhaps so close that it would not have been safe to open the
door; and as I watched beside Morgan from between the window-bars, we
were constantly touching each other, and pointing to some tree-stump,
tuft, or hillock, asking whether that was an Indian creeping cautiously
toward the house.

Somehow that seemed to me the darkest night I could remember, and the
various sounds, all of which were really familiar, seemed strange.

Now there was the plaintive cry of one of the goat-suckers which hawked
for moths and beetles round the great trees; then, after a silence so
profound that it was painful, came the deep croak of the bullfrog rising
and falling and coming from a hundred different directions at once.
Then all at once their deep croaking was dominated by a loud barking
bellow; and as I listened with my hands feeling cold and damp, I caught
hold of Morgan.

"What's that?"  I whispered, excitedly.

"My arm," he replied, coolly.  "Don't pinch, lad."

"No, no; I mean the sound.  What noise was that?"

"Oh!  Why, you know.  That was a 'gator."

"Are you sure?  It sounded like a man's voice."

"Not it.  Who did you think could be there?  Nobody likely to be out
there but Indians, and they wouldn't shout; they'd whisper so that we
shouldn't know they were near."

I was silent again, and sat watching and listening as sound after sound
struck my ear, making it seem that the wilds had never been so full
before of strange noises, though the fact was that nothing was unusual
except that I did not realise that I had never been in danger before,
and sat up to listen.

All at once I jumped and uttered a cry, for something had touched me.

"Hush!  Don't make a noise," said a familiar voice.  "I only wanted to
know whether you could make out anything."

"No, father.  Only the frogs and alligators are barking and bellowing."

"Can't see any sign of Indians, nor any red light from over toward the
settlement?"

"No, father."

"No, sir.  All's quiet," said Morgan.

"It isn't, father," I whispered.  "I never heard so much noise from out
by the river before.  There, hark!"

We all listened in silence as a loud bellowing sound came from a
distance.

"There!"  I whispered, in awe-stricken tones.

"Only one of the reptiles by the stream," said my father, quietly.

"But don't you think it's because some one is there?"

"No; certainly not.  Keep a sharp look-out on both sides, Morgan, and
warn me if you see the slightest movement, for it may be a crawling,
lurking Indian."

"We'll keep a good look-out, sir, never fear," said Morgan, and we
resumed our watch--if watch it could be called, where we were more
dependent upon our ears than upon our eyes.

Morgan was very silent and thoughtful till I spoke to him.

"What did my father mean about the red glare over at the settlement?"

"Hah!" he ejaculated, and he was again silent for a minute or two.  Then
in a quick whisper, "I was just thinking about that, Master George, when
you spoke, and that it was the enemy we had to fear the most."

"What do you mean?"  I asked.

"Fire, my lad, fire.  I dare say that with our guns and swords we may
keep them off; but that's how they'll get the better of us."

"By fire?"

"Yes; they'll get something blazing up against the house, and the moment
it catches fire it's all over with us."

"What!  Set fire to the house?"

"Yes, Master George, that's what your father's afraid of.  No; I'm wrong
there.  I was at the wars with him, and I never saw him afraid--not even
to-day.  Takes a bold man to come out of his fort and go up to the enemy
as he did--twelve to one--expecting every moment a crack from a
tomahawk.  He hasn't got any fear in him; but he thinks about the fire
all the same.  Now then, don't talk, but keep a sharp look-out, or they
may steal on to us without our seeing them."

All this was said in a low whisper as we tried to keep a good look-out
from the little trellised dormers; and the minutes stole on and became
hours, with the darkness seeming to increase till about midnight.  Then
all looked darker, when Morgan pressed my arm, and I gave, a violent
start.

"'Sleep, sir?"

"I?  Asleep?  No!  Yes; I'm afraid I must have been," I said, feeling
the colour come burning into my face.

"Look yonder," he whispered.

I looked from the grating and saw that, all at once, as it appeared to
me, the tops of the trees were visible out to the east, and it grew
plainer and plainer as I watched.

"Moon's getting very old, Master George," whispered Morgan, "but yonder
she comes up."

"Then it will soon be light."

"No; but not so dark."

"Then the Indians won't come now?"  I said eagerly.

"I don't know much about them, Master George, but from what I've heard
say from those who do, Indians always comes when they're not expected,
and if you're to be ready for them you must always be on the watch."

The overpowering sense of sleep which had made me lose consciousness for
a few minutes ceased to trouble me now, and I stood watching eagerly for
the time when the moon would rise above the trees, and send its light
across the clearing in front of the house.  I waited anxiously, for
there had been the lurking dread that the Indians might creep up to the
garden through the darkness, unseen, and perhaps strike at my father
down below before he could be on his guard.

Once the moon was up, I felt that we should have light till daybreak,
and with that light a good deal of the shivering dread caused by the
darkness would pass away.

It was a long, very long while before the moon reached the tops of the
trees, but when it did, the clearing and the gardens seemed to have been
transformed.  Long shadows, black as velvet, stretched right away, and
trees were distorted so that I felt as if I was dreaming of seeing a
garden upon which I had never set eyes before.

At last, almost imperceptibly, the moon, well on to its last quarter,
appeared above the edge of the forest, and I was in the act of drawing
myself back with a feeling of satisfaction that all was safe, when I saw
something dark lying close to the shadow cast by a tree.

"Would Indians lie down and crawl?"  I whispered.

"More likely to than walk, if all I hear's true, Master George."

"Then look there!"  I whispered, as I pointed to the dark, shadowy
figure.

"Where, lad?  I can't see anything."

"There; just at the edge of that long, stretched-out shadow."

Morgan drew in his breath with a faint hiss.

"It's moving--_he's_ moving," he whispered; "crawling right along to get
round to the back, I should say.  And look, sir, look!--another of 'em."

I just caught sight of the second figure, and then crept to the rough
trap-door opening.

"Father," I whispered, "come up here.  Bring a gun."

He was beneath the opening in a moment.

"Take hold of the gun," he said.  "Mind!--be careful"--and he passed the
heavy weapon up to me.

The next moment he was up in the rough loft, and I pointed out the
figures of the Indians.

I heard him too draw in his breath with a faint hiss, as he stretched
out his hand for the gun, took it, softly passed the barrel out through
the open window and took aim, while I stood suffering from a nervous
thrill that was painful in the extreme, for I knew that when he fired it
must mean death.

I involuntarily shrank away, waiting for the heavy report which seemed
as if it would never come; and at last, unable to bear the suspense
longer, I pressed forward again to look hesitatingly through the window,
feeling that I might have to fire a gun myself before long.

All at once, as the suspense had grown unbearable, the barrel of the
firelock made a low scraping noise, for my father was drawing it back.

"A false alarm, George," he said, gently.

"No, no," I whispered; "look--look!" for I could see both figures
crawling along slowly, flat on their breasts.

"Yes, I see them, my boy," he said; "and I was deceived too, for the
moment, but we must not waste shot on creatures like these."

"Why, if it arn't a pair o' 'gators," said Morgan, with a suppressed
laugh.  "Well, they did look just like Injins, and no mistake."

I felt so vexed at making so absurd a mistake, that I remained silent
till my father passed the gun to me.

"Take hold," he said, gently.  "It was a mistake that deceived us all.
Better be too particular than not particular enough."

He lowered himself down into the room below, and I passed him the gun
before going back to where Morgan leaned against the window.

"There they go, Master George," he said, laughing.  "You and me must
have a new pair o' spectacles apiece from the old country if we have to
do much of this sort of thing."

"I did not think I could have been so stupid," I said, angrily; and
going away to the other window, so that I should not have to listen to
my companion's bantering, which I felt pretty sure would come, I stood
gazing at the beautiful scene without, the moon making the dark green
leaves glisten like silver, while the shades grew to be of a velvety
black.  Every here and there patches of light shone on the great trunks
of the trees, while their tops ran up like great spires into the
softly-illumined sky.

The excitement had driven away all desire for sleep, and we watched on
listening to every sound and cry that came from the forest surrounding,
wonderfully plain in the silence of the night, which magnified croak,
bellow, or faint rustling among the leaves or bushes, as some nocturnal
creature made its way through the trees.

At times the watching seemed to be insufferably dreary and wearisome;
then something startling would send the blood thrilling through my veins
again; and so on and on, till the moon began to grow pale, the light to
appear of a pearly grey in the east, golden flecks glistened high all
above the trees, and once more it was new day, with the birds singing,
and a feeling of wonder impressing me, it appeared so impossible that I
could have been up and watching all night.



CHAPTER SEVEN.

"Master George!--Master George!"

The call was repeated, for I did not answer the first, my mouth being
expanded to its fullest stretch in a tremendous yawn.

"Come down, and have some breakfast.  You must want it sore."

The very fact of Sarah mentioning it made me feel a horrible sinking
sensation, and as soon as my father gave leave for one of us to leave
the post at the window, I came down to find that, though we up in the
narrow loft had heard nothing, Sarah had been for some time preparing a
good meal, which, whatever might be the perils awaiting us later on, we
all ate with the greatest of enjoyment.

We had hardly finished when Morgan gave the alarm, and my father hurried
to his post of observation, but only to conceal his piece directly, as
he uttered the word "Friend!"

For our nearest neighbour, Colonel Preston, a tall, stern, rather
overbearing man, came up, followed by a couple of men.

"I've come to give you warning, Bruton," he said.

"I tried to send you warning last night," replied my father.

"What!  You know?"

"Do you not see how we are barricaded?"

"Oh, I thought it was because you were just getting up.  The Indians
came by here then?"

"Yes," said my father; and he briefly told of our adventure, and the
watch we had kept.

"Well," said the colonel, sharply, and as I thought in rather a
dictatorial way; "it all goes to prove that it was a mistake for you to
isolate yourself here.  You must move close up to us, so that in a case
of emergency we can all act together."

"It would be better," said my father, quietly.

"Then you will come?"

"No; I selected this place for its beauty, as you chose yours.  I should
not like to give it up."

"You'll repent it, Bruton.  You must have had a narrow escape last
night."

"I do not know," said my father, thoughtfully.  "Of course we were very
suspicious of the reason for the Indians' visit, but they did us no
harm."

"Nor to us.  Our numbers overawed them, I suppose."

"Our numbers did not overawe them here," said my father, smiling; but he
added rather bitterly, "If they had meant mischief, we could not have
counted on your help."

"Nor we on yours," said the colonel, in a rather irritable manner.
"Well, of course I have no right to dictate to you; but I may as well
tell you that as soon as the Indians left us, we met together, and
determined to erect a block-house or fort ready to flee to in case of
emergency.  It is for you to chose whether you will join us in the
work."

"I shall join you, of course," said my father, quietly; and, refusing
any refreshment, evidently to the great disgust of his men, who
exchanged glances which evidently meant breakfast, the colonel walked
off.

"See those two fellows, Master George?" whispered Morgan, as my father
stood gazing thoughtfully after the colonel.

"Yes; why?"

"Never see two look more hungry in my life.  They'd have cleared us out,
see if they wouldn't.  Good job there arn't many in the settlement like
'em."

"Why?"  I said.

"Because we should soon be having a famine in the land.  What are you
laughing at, lad?"

"You," I said, as I recalled a number of Morgan's performances with the
knife and fork.

He looked at me fiercely, and as if he were terribly offended; for
Morgan's Welsh blood had a way of bubbling up and frothing over like
mead; but directly after there was a bit of a twitch at one corner of
his mouth, then a few wrinkles started out at each side of his face
about the eyes, and began to spread all over till he was showing his
teeth.

"Ah, well, Master George," he said, "I can see through you.  Perhaps I
aren't such a very bad trencherman.  Sarah says I do eat.  But what's
the harm?  Man can't work well without; nor more can't a fire burn
without you keeps on putting plenty o' wood.  But I say, my lad, when
those Injin fellows came down upon us, I began to think I should never
be hungry again.  Did I look very much frightened?"

"No; I thought you looked very brave."

"Did I?  Did you think so, Master George?"

"Yes; certainly."

"Now, you're not making fun of me, are you?"

"Certainly not."

"Well, come, I'm glad of that," said Morgan, brightening up; "because do
you know, Master George, 'twix' you and me, I don't think I'm quite so
good that way as I ought to be.  I tried hard not to seem in a fright,
but I was in one all the same, and seemed to feel arrows sticking into
me, and them chopping at me with tomahawks.  Wasn't pleasant, look you,
was it?"

"No, and it was no wonder."

"No, sir, it warn't.  But I say, Master George, you didn't feel so bad
as that, did you?"

I glanced round to see if my father was within hearing, and then said
with a laugh--

"I'm afraid I felt ever so much worse."

"Then we'll shake hands over it," said Morgan; "but I say, Master
George, I'd give everything to know whether the master felt scared too."

"I don't think he did.  Oh, I'm sure he did not.  See how erect and firm
he was."

"Ah, that's being a soldier, sir.  They drill 'em up into being as stiff
as can be, and to look as if they like it when they're being shot at.
That's what makes English soldiers such fine fellows in a battle."

Further discussion was put an end to by the coming up to us of my
father.

"You heard what Colonel Preston said, George?"

"Yes, father."

"About being safe, and the risk of fresh attacks by the Indians?"

"Yes, father; we heard every word--didn't we, Morgan?"

"Oh yes; everything, sir."

"Well," said my father, "it is quite possible that this party came to
spy out the land so as to prepare for a descent.  If this is so, there
is a good deal of risk in staying here.  I have made up my mind what to
do under the circumstances."

"Oh, master!  Oh, Captain Bruton!" broke out Morgan; "don't say that
after the pains we took in getting our garden in order, and in helping
to build the house, and never happy unless I was going to do something
to make it look pretty, you're thinking of moving and letting some one
else come in?"

"I think the risk is very great in staying; and that for your wife's
sake, my son's, and yours, I perhaps ought to give up this, and go and
take up fresh land close to my brother settlers."

"But, begging your pardon, sir, don't you think nothing of the sort
again.  What do you say, Master George?"

"Oh, I shouldn't like to go away from here," I said.

"There, sir!  Hear that?" cried Morgan.  "Why, if you come to reckon it
up, how do you know that you're going to be safer there than here?  If
the Injins come, that's where they'll go for first, and we're just as
likely to be killed there as here."

"Possibly, Morgan."

"And then look at the place, sir, all along by the big river.  It arn't
half so healthy as this.  I never feel well there, and I know the land
arn't half so rich."

"But we must study safety, my man," said my father.

"Of course we must, sir, so what's the good of being scared about some
Injins, who may never come again, and running right into where there's
likely to be fevers--and if some day there don't come a big flood and
half drown 'em all, I'm a Dutchman, and wasn't born in Carnarvon after
all."

"But there is another consideration, Morgan; we have some one else to
look after--your wife."

"Oh, don't you trouble about me, sir," cried Sarah; and we looked up in
astonishment.  "I came out here to look after you and Master George, not
for you to look after me."

"Why, what are you doing up there?" said my father, as Sarah's nose
showed between the bars of the window of the loft.

"Keeping a sharp look-out for Indians, sir."

"That's right Sarah," cried Morgan.  "And, I say, you don't think we had
better go, do you?"

"Certainly not," said Sarah, sharply.  "Just as we're getting the place
and my kitchen so snug and comfortable.  I should think not indeed."

"There, sir," cried Morgan, triumphantly.

"Well," said my father, "I had made up my mind to stop, at any rate as
far as I was concerned, but I wished to give you all the opportunity of
going up to the settlement."

"'Tchah, sir!  I don't call that a settlement.  But, begging your
pardon, captain, speaking _as_ an old soldier _to_ an old soldier,"
continued Morgan, "what you say is ridickerlus."

"Morgan!" cried my father, sternly.

"Can't help it, sir, even if you order me pack-drill, or even black-hole
and a flogging.  Why, its ridickerlus for you as an officer to tell your
men to forsake you and leave you in the lurch."

"But, my good fellow--"

"Ah, I haven't done yet, captain.  You've worried me and gone on till
it's mutiny in the ranks, and I refuse to obey."

"Well, George," said my father, "you hear this; what do you say?"

"I say it would be a horrid pity to go away and leave the place, father.
Oh, don't!  I like it ever so!  And we're so happy here, and I don't
believe the Indians will come again."

"Then you would not be afraid to stay here and take our chance?  No," he
said, reverently, "place ourselves in His hands, my boy, and be
content."

"Amen to all that, sir, says I," cried Morgan, taking off his hat; and
then I saw him close his eyes, and his lips were moving as he turned
away.

"Thank you, Morgan," said my father, quietly; "and thank you too, my
boy.  We will not give up our restful, beautiful home for a scare.
Perhaps if the Indians find that we wish to be at peace with them, they
may never attempt to molest us.  We will stay."

Morgan gave his leg a slap, and turned round to me.

"There, Master George!" he cried.  "Why, with all these fruit and
vegetables coming on, I should have 'most broke my heart, and I know our
Sarah would have broken hers."

That day was after all a nervous one, and we felt as if at any moment an
Indian might appear at the edge of the wood, followed by a body perhaps
a hundred strong.  So our vigilance was not relaxed, neither that day
nor during the next week; but nothing occurred to disturb our peace, and
the regular routine went on.

From what we heard at the settlement the idea of building a block-house
had been for the present given up; but Morgan came back one morning,
after a visit to the colonel's man, with some news which rather
disturbed my father.

"Small schooner in the river?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you say that several of the gentlemen have been buying?"

"Yes, sir; that's right," said Morgan, "and the blacks are put to work
in their plantations."

My father frowned and walked away, while I eagerly turned to Morgan for
an explanation.

"Oh, it's all right enough, sir, what I tell you," said Morgan; "and
seems to me they're right, so long as they treat 'em well.  Here's lots
of land wants clearing and planting, and one pair of hands can't do it,
of course, and there's no men to be hired out here, so the gentlemen
have been buying slaves."

"What a shame!"  I cried.  "How would you like to be bought for a
slave?"

Morgan looked at me, then at the sky, then down at the ground; then away
straight before him, as he took off his hat and scratched one ear.

"Humph!" he ejaculated, suddenly; "that's a puzzler, Master George.  Do
you know I never thought of that."

"It seems to me horribly cruel."

"But then, you see, Master George, they're blacks, and that makes all
the difference."

I could not see it, but I did not say so, and by degrees other things
took my attention.  There was so much to see, and hear, and do, that I
forgot all about Indians and blacks; or if they did come to mind at all
as time went on, I merely gave them a passing thought, and went off to
talk to Morgan, to set a trap, to fish, or to watch the beautiful birds
that came into the sunny clearing about my home.



CHAPTER EIGHT.

"There," said Morgan, one day, as he gave the soil a final pat with his
spade, "that job's done, and now I'm going to have a bit of a rest.
Leaving-off time till the sun gets a bit down."

"What have you been planting?"  I asked.

"Seeds, my lad; flower seeds, as I've picked myself.  I like to keep
raising the useful things, but we may as well have some bright flowers
too.  Where's the master?"

"Indoors, writing."

"Then what do you say to a bit of sport?"

"Another rattlesnake?"  I cried.

"No, thank ye, my lad; meddling with rattlesnakes may mean bringing down
the Indians, so we'll let them alone."

"Nonsense!"

"Well, perhaps it is, my lad."

"But what have you found?"

"What do you say to a 'coon?"

"Oh, they get into the hollow trees, where you can't catch them."

"Well then, a bear?"

"A bear!"  I cried; "a real wild bear?"

"Ah, I thought that would set you off; but it arn't a bear; they're up
among the hills."

"What is it then?  How you do hang back from telling!"

"Course I do.  If I let you have it all at once, you wouldn't enjoy it
half so much."

"Oh, I know," I cried, "it's going to fish after those ridiculous little
terrapins, and they're such horrid things to take off the hook."

"Guess again."

"Birds?  An eagle?"

"No; guess again, nearly right; something as lays eggs--"

"A turtle?"

Morgan shook his head.

"Not an alligator, is it?"

He wrinkled up his face in a hearty laugh.

"Alligator it is, sir.  I found a nest yesterday."

"And didn't tell me.  I want to see an alligator's nest.  I never could
find one."

"Ah, you didn't look in the right kind of tree, Master George."

"Don't talk to me as if I were a baby, Morgan," I said; "just as if I
didn't know better than that."

"Oh, but you don't know everything.  I got awfully laughed at once for
saying squirrels build nests in trees."

"Oh, but they do," I said; "I've seen them."

"'Course you have; but when I said so, some one laughed, and asked how
many eggs you can find in a squirrel's nest.--So you don't believe the
'gators build in trees, don't you?"

"No; but I believe they lay eggs.  How many are there in this?"

"Oh, it isn't that sort of nest.  I mean a nest where he goes to sleep
in; and you and me's going to wake him up, and try if we can't catch him
and bring him home."

I could not help thinking of the Indians, as I went with Morgan to make
the preparations, which were simple enough, and consisted in arming
himself with a long pole and giving me one similar, after which he put a
piece of rope in his pocket, and declared himself ready.

We went off in the same direction as that chosen when we killed the
rattlesnake, but turned off to the left directly, and made for the bank
of the river, that bore away from the landing-place, towards a low,
moist part, intersected by the meandering stream which drained the
marshy part.

Here we had to proceed rather cautiously, for the place was full of
decayed trees covered with brilliant green and grey moss, and looking
solid, but which crumbled away at a touch from the foot, and often
concealed holes into which it would have been awkward to fall, since we
did not know what kind of creatures lived therein.

"Seem to have lost the place," said Morgan, after we had been going
along for some time pretty well parallel with the river.

"Oh, Morgan!"  I exclaimed, impatiently.

"No; I have it," he cried.  "I remember that tree with the long moss
hanging down so far.  The ground's harder here too.  More to the left,
Master George.  There you are at last."

"But where's the nest?"  I said.

"Why, there it is, my lad; can't you see?"

I looked round, but there was nothing visible but a few footprints in a
muddy spot, and a hole of very moderate size, evidently going some
distance down into the moist, boggy soil.

"Is this it?"

"Yes, of course."

"But you said a nest."

"Well, I meant, as I told you, his nest, his snuggery.  Now I'm going to
see if he's at home."

I looked on full of doubt, for the whole proceeding seemed to me to be
very absurd, and I felt sure that Morgan was mistaken.

"I don't believe he knows any more about alligators than I do," I said
to myself, as I saw him thrust the long pole down into the hole.

"I tried this game on yesterday, Master George, and he said he was at
home."

"Nonsense!"  I cried, pettishly.

"But I'm afraid he has gone out for a walk this time, and it's a case of
call again to-morrow.  No," he added, energetically, "it's all right.
Says he's at home."

"Why, what do you mean?"  I cried.

"Got a bite," said Morgan, grinning.  "You try.  But mind he don't come
out with a rush.  He might be nasty."

I hesitated for a moment, then leaning my own pole against a bush, I
took hold of the one Morgan gave into my hands, and moved it slightly.

"Well?"  I said.  "I don't feel anything."

"Give it a bit of a stir round, my lad," he said.

I moved the pole a little, and then jumped and let go.

"What's the matter?" cried Morgan, laughing.

"Something bit the pole, and made it jar right up my arm."

"That's him.  I told you he was at home.  Now then, you aren't afraid,
are you?"

"Not a big one, is it?"

"No, not very; only tidy size; but we shall see if we get him out."

I looked rather aghast at Morgan, for the idea of getting a large
alligator out there in the marshy place, and both of us unarmed, was
rather startling.

"Now then, give him a good stir up."

Sooner than seem afraid, but with my heart beating heavily, I took hold
of the pole, and gave it a good shake, and left go again, for it seemed
as if some one had given it a good rap with a heavy stick, and a jarring
sensation ran up my arm.

"No mistake about it this time," said Morgan, grinning.  "Puts me in
mind of sniggling for eels, and pushing a worm at the end of a
willow-stick up an eel's burrow in a muddy bank.  They give it a knock
like that sometimes, but of course not so hard.  Well, why don't you go
on?"

"Go on with what?"  I cried, wishing myself well out of the whole
business.

"Stirring of him up, and making him savage.  But stop a moment, let's
have this ready."

He took out the piece of rope, and made a large noose, laying it on some
thick moss, and then turning to me again.

"Now then, my lad, give him a good stir up.  Don't be afraid.  Make him
savage, or else he won't hold on."

With a dimly defined notion of what we were aiming at, I gave the pole a
good wrench round in the hole, feeling it strike against something, and
almost simultaneously feeling something strike against it.

"That's the way, sir.  Give it him again."

Growing reckless now, and feeling that I must not shrink, I gave the
pole another twist round, with the result that it was snatched out of my
hand.

"He has it," cried Morgan, excitedly.  "Feel if he has got it fast,
Master George."

I took hold of the pole, gazing down with no little trepidation, in the
expectation of at any moment seeing some hideous monster rush out, ready
to seize and devour me.

But there was no response to my touch, the pole coming loosely into my
hand.

"Give him another stir up, Master George.  They tell me that's the way
they do it to make them savage."

"But do we want to make the creature savage?"  I said.

"Course we do!  There, you do as I tell you, my lad, and you'll see."

I gave the pole a good poke round in the hole again, just as if I was
stirring up something in a huge pot, when almost before I had gone right
round--_Whang_!  The pole quivered in my hand, and a thrill ran through
me as in imagination I saw a monstrous beast seize the end of the stick
in its teeth and give it a savage shake.

"Hurrah!" cried Morgan.  "He has got it tight now.  That's right, Master
George; let me come.  We'll soon haul him out."

"No, no," I said, as excited now as the Welshman.  "It may be
dangerous."

"We'll dangerous him, my lad."

"But he may bite."

"Well, let him.  'Gators' bites arn't poisonous, like snakes.  I should
just like to see him bite."

"I shouldn't," I said, mentally, as Morgan pushed me a little on one
side, and took hold of the pole.

"Now then, don't you be scared; I'll tackle him if he's vicious.  Both
pull together.  He's so vexed now that he won't leave go if his teeth
'll hold."

"No," I said, setting my own teeth fast, but not in the pole.  "Am I to
pull?"

"To be sure.  Both pull together.  It's like fishing with a wooden line.
Now then, haul away!"

There was a length of about ten feet of the pole down in the hole as we
took hold together and began to haul, feeling something very heavy at
the end, which came up in a sullen, unresisting way for some distance,
giving me courage and making me nearly as eager and excited as our man.

"That's the way, sir.  We'll soon--Hi!  Hold tight!  Wo--ho, there; wo--
ho!  Ah!"

For all at once the creature began to struggle furiously, shaking the
pole so that we dragged at it with all our might; and then--_Whoosh_!
The alligator left go, and we went backward on the soft mossy earth.

"I _am_ glad!"  I thought, as we struggled up.

"There, Master George, what d'yer think o' that?  Can't have such games
as this at home in the old country, eh?"

"No," I said.  "But you're not going to try again, are you?"

"Not going to try again?  I should think I am, till I get the great ugly
creature here at the top.  Why, you're not skeart of him, are you?"

"Wait till he's out, and then we'll see," I replied, as I thrust the
pole down again, giving it a fierce twist, and felt it seized once more.

"That's the way.  This is a bit of the finest sport I ever had, and it's
just dangerous enough to make it exciting.  Haul away, my lad."

I set my teeth and hauled, the reptile coming up quickly enough
half-way, and then beginning to writhe and shake its head furiously,
every movement being communicated to our arms, and giving us a good
notion of the strength of the enemy we were fighting, if fighting it
could be called.  Up we drew it inch by inch, and I must confess that
with every change of the position of my hands I hoped it would be the
last, that the creature would leave go, and drop back into the hole, and
that Morgan would be so disappointed that he would not try any more.

That is just how I felt, and yet, odd as it may sound, it is not as I
felt, for mingled with that series of thoughts--just as a change of
position shows another set of colours on a bird's back or in a piece of
silk--there was another, in which I was hoping the alligator would hold
on tightly, so that we might get it right out of the hole, and I could
attack and kill it with the pole, so that I could show Morgan and--much
more important--myself that I was not afraid to behave as boldly as the
man who had hold with his hands touching mine.

My last ideas were gratified, for as we hauled together there was
another savage shaking of the pole, which quivered in our grasp; then a
strong drag or two, and we knew by the length of the pole that we must
have the reptile within a yard of the surface, when Morgan looked down
where a bright gleam of the sunlight shot from above.

"All right, Master George," he cried; "this way--over with you!" and
setting the example, he dragged the pole over in the opposite direction
to that in which we had it bent, when I perforce followed with him, and
the next moment we were dragging a great alligator through the wet moss
and black mud, the creature making very little resistance, for it was on
its back, this being the result of Morgan's last movement when he
dragged the pole across the hole.

The shape of the reptile's head and back made our task the more easy,
and we had run with it a good fifty feet before it recovered from its
surprise, loosened its hold of the pole, and began to writhe and thrash
about with its tail as it twisted itself over into its proper position,
in a way that was startling.

"Now, Master George, we've got him.  I'll keep him from running back
into his hole; you go and get the rope."

I could not stir for a few moments, but stood watching, as I saw Morgan
raise up the pole, and bring it down bang across the alligator's back,
but without doing it the slightest injury, for the end struck a
half-rotten log, and the pole snapped off a yard above Morgan's hands.

"Never mind!  I'll keep him back," roared Morgan, as the reptile kept
facing him, and half turning to strike at him with its tail.  "Quick,
lad!  The rope--the rope!"

I started off at once, and picked up the rope with its noose all ready,
and then seized my pole as well, too much excited now to think of being
afraid.  Then I trotted back to Morgan just as he was having a fierce
fight with the creature, which kept on snapping and turning at him in a
way that, to say the least, was alarming.

"Ah, would you!"  Morgan kept crying, as the brute snapped at him, and
he presented the broken pole, upon which the reptile's teeth closed,
giving the wood a savage shake which nearly wrenched it out of Morgan's
hands; but he held on, and had all his work to do to avoid the tangled
growth and the blows of the creature's tail.

"That's it, Master George.  Now quick: drop that rope, and next time he
opens his pretty mouth give him the pole.  Aren't afraid of him, are
you?"

I did not answer.

I did not want to answer just then, but I did exactly as I was told,
dropping the rope and standing ready with my pole on one side, so as to
thrust it into the brute's mouth.

I did not have long to wait for my opportunity, and it was not the
alligator's fault that he did not get right hold, for through
nervousness, I suppose, I thrust short, and the jaws came together with
an ugly snap that was startling.

"Never mind; try again; quick, my lad, or he'll get away back to the
hole."

To prevent this Morgan made a rush, and gave the brute a sounding thwack
with his broken pole, sufficiently hard to make it turn in another
direction, when, thoroughly excited now, I made a poke at it with the
pole, and it snapped at it viciously.

I made another and another, and then the teeth closed upon the end, and
the pole quivered in my grasp.

"Well done!  Brave lad!" shouted Morgan, for he did not know I was all
of a tremble.  "That's the way; hold on, and keep him thinking about you
just a moment.  Pull!  Let go!  Pull again!"

As he gave me these directions, he got the end of the pole from me for a
moment so as to pass the noose of the rope he had picked up over it, and
then once more shouting to me to pull, he boldly ran the wide noose down
over the pole; and as the brute saw him so near, it loosed its hold to
make a fierce snap; but Morgan was too quick for the creature, and
leaped away with a shout of triumph, tightening the rope, which was
right round the reptile's neck, and running and passing the other end
about a tree.

"Got him now," panted Morgan, as the alligator thrashed at the rope with
its tail, and tugged and strained with all its might, but of course only
tightening the noose with every effort.

"Yes," I said, breathlessly, as I stood now well out of danger; "we've
got him now."

"Yes, we've got him now," said Morgan again, as we made the end of the
rope fast to a branch.  "That would hold one twice as big.  Let's see;
'bout how long is he?"

"Seven feet," I said, making a rapid guess.

"Well," said Morgan, in a slow, hesitating way; "here, hi!  Keep your
tail still, will you, while you're being measured."

But the reptile seemed to thrash all the harder, dragging the noose
tight, and flogging at the rope in a way which promised, if time enough
was given, to wear it through.

"Oh, well, if you won't, I must guess.  Yes, sir, he's quite seven feet
long--nearer eight; but he must be pretty young, for he's a lean,
lizardly-looking brute.  Not nice things to tackle, are they?  Look ye
here at the marks of his teeth."

As he said this, Morgan held up his broken pole, first one piece then
the other.  "I say, Master George, he can nip.  If that had been your
leg or my arm, we should have wanted a bit or two of sticking-plaster,
even if we hadn't had the bone cracked in two."

"It's a horribly ugly brute," I said, as I approached it a little
nearer, and examined it by the warm ruddy glow which shone down here and
there into the gloomy swamp forest.

"Yes; his mother ought to be very proud of him," said Morgan, laughing;
"wonder what his brothers and sisters are like.  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"

"What are you laughing at?"  I said.

"I was only thinking, Master George.  The idea of me coming out of
Carnarvonshire across the sea to find things like that!"

"Yes; it's different to home," I said.

"This is home," replied Morgan, stolidly--"home now.  I've set and
tended many a lot of eggs; but I say, Master George, only think of a
thing like that coming out of a new-laid egg.  Do rattlesnakes!"

I could not help smiling at the idea, but my face felt strange, and
there was a twitching about my temples as the last words fell upon my
ears.

"Halloa!  What's the matter, lad?"

"You--you said rattlesnakes," I whispered hoarsely.

"Well, what of it?  This is 'gator country.  Rattlesnakes, they tell me,
likes the high, dry, hot, stony places."

"Yes--father said so," I replied in a whisper, as I looked cautiously
round.

"Well then, what are you looking for?"

"Indians," I whispered, for I had recalled how the savages had
surrounded us while our attention was taken up by the last noxious
creature we had attacked.

At my words Morgan made a bound, and then began to move past a tree.
But he stopped short, and returned to my side, looking wildly round the
while.

"See 'em--see any of 'em?" he whispered.

"No; but suppose they have stolen upon us again as they did before!"

"Yah!  What do you mean by frightening a man?  I teclare to cootness
it's too bad of you, Master George."

I smiled once more, for Morgan's speech had sounded very droll and
Welsh, as it often was when he grew excited.

"You tit it to scare me," he said, angrily.

"Indeed, no."

"Yes, inteet," he said; "and look you--I say, Master George, was it
meant for a choke?"

"Indeed, no, Morgan; I really felt startled."

"Then it's all right," he said.  "There's none of 'em here, so let's get
home."

"But what are you going to do with the alligator?"

"Eh?  Oh, I never thought of that.  I wanted to catch him so that you
might have a bit of fun."

"But now we have caught him?"

"Well, dunno, my lad.  Might take him home and chain him up.  Turn down
a barrel to make him a kennel; he can bark."

"Oh, nonsense!  We can't do that."

"He's no good to eat, though they say the savages eat 'em.  Here, I
know; let's take him home, and ask master what's to be done with him."

"Take him home?"  I faltered.

"Ay, to be sure.  I'll lead him by the string, and you can come behind
and give him a poke with the pole when he won't go.  Ought by rights to
have two ropes, like they do at home with a vicious cow; then when he
ran at me, you could pull; and when he ran at you, I could pull him
back."

"But we haven't two ropes.  That isn't long enough to cut, and I can't
stop him if he runs at you."

"Might pull his tail," said Morgan.

"Ugh!"  I ejaculated, as I recalled the use the creature could make of
it, giving blows that I knew would knock me off my feet.

"Well then, I tell you what; let's leave him tied up as he is, and get
back.  The master will be wondering where we are, and fancying all sorts
of trouble."

"Seems cruel," I said.  "The creature will be strangled."

"Not he.  If he does, he'll strangle himself.  I never feel very
merciful to things that go about doing all the harm they can as long as
they live.  Say, shall I kill him at once?"

"No; let's leave him, and see what my father says."

Morgan examined the knot he had made, and then started away, for the
reptile made a lash at him with its tail, and in retort he took out his
big-bladed knife, opened it, and held it out threateningly.

"It's all very well, look you," he said; "but if you'd hit me with that
tail of yours, I'd have had it off as sure as you're alive."

It was Morgan's farewell to the alligator as we turned off with our
poles, broken and sound, and hurried back to find my father with a gun
over his arm, fast coming in search of us.



CHAPTER NINE.

"I was afraid something was wrong," he said.  "And look here, Morgan, I
want to live at peace with all the world, but self-preservation is the
first law of nature, and I would rather you did not leave the place
again unarmed.--Well, George," he continued, turning to me, "where have
you been?"

I told him of our adventure, and he was thoughtful for a few moments.

"You must go together in the morning and kill the thing," he said.  "I
don't like destroying life, but these wild creatures of the forest and
swamp must give way to man.  If they do not they must perish.  All
deadly creatures must be killed without mercy.  There is not room in the
parts of the earth we chose to live in for both."

Consequently, after making our arrangements, I called Morgan at
daybreak, and we took a gun and ammunition to execute the alligator.

"Be a lesson for you in the use of a firelock, Master George," said
Morgan, as we travelled on across our clearing, and paused at the edge
of the forest.  "Now then, my lad," he cried, giving his orders in a
military way, and bidding me load.

I had seen the charging of a gun often enough to be able to go through
the task sufficiently well to get a few words of commendation, but a
good many of blame.

"Ram well home, my lad.  I like to see the rod hop again, and the powder
solid."

"What difference does it make?"  I asked.

"All the difference in the world, my lad.  Powder's rum stuff, and good
loading makes it do its work well.  Bad loading makes it do its work
anyhow."

"I don't understand you," I said.

"It's easy enough, sir.  S'pose I take a charge of powder, and lay it
loose on a stone.  If I set light to it there's a puff and some smoke,
and that's all, because it has plenty of room.  But if I shut it up
tight in a gun-barrel rammed down hard, it goes off with a loud bang,
because it has to burst its way out.  If you ram lightly, the bullet
will go only a little way.  If you ram hard, your bullet will go
straight to the mark."

"There it is then, rammed hard," I said, as I made the ramrod ring.

"That's right.  Now you shall shoot the 'gator.  Some folks say their
skin's too hard for the bullet to go through.  We shall see."

We went on together toward our landing-place, and then on and away to
the left, following our previous day's trail more and more into the
swamp, beside the river, talking about the fight we had had with the
reptile, Morgan laughingly saying that he should like to have another
with one twice as big, while I thought I should not, but did not say so.

The morning was delightful, with the birds piping and singing, and in
the open sunny parts we caught sight of the lovely orange orioles, and
those all yellow and black--birds which took the place of our thrushes
and blackbirds of the old country.  Every now and then a tall crane
would fly up from where he had been prodding about with his sharp bill
in some mossy pool, his long legs trailing out behind him as if he had
been dancing on stilts.

It had all grown familiar to me now, but I was never tired of gazing at
the dark, shadowy places where the cypresses rose right out of the black
water, and the great trailing moss, ten and fifteen feet long, hung down
from the boughs like ragged veils.  The place looked as if it might be
the haunt of large, water-loving serpents, or strange beasts which
lurked in waiting for the unwary traveller; but we heard nothing but the
cries of birds and the rustling and beating of wings, or the hum of
insect life, save now and then when there was a splash from the river
away to our right, or from a black pool hidden from us by the dense
growth.

"Make some of 'em stare over at home, Master George," said Morgan.

"What at?"

"Place like this.  Miles and miles of it, and no use made of it.  Round
here!  That's right.  Remember that old rotten tree?"

"Yes," I said; "we must be close to the place now.  How near shall I
stand to the alligator when I shoot?"

"Oh, just as near as you like.  Mind that hole; I shouldn't wonder if
another one lived there."

I stepped quickly aside from the ugly-looking spot, and felt so vexed on
seeing my companion smile, that I turned back and stood looking down
into the place, forcing myself to do so quietly, and then following in a
deliberate way, though all the time I could not help feeling a kind of
shuddering sensation run over me, as if I had suddenly stepped out of
the hot woodland into a current of fresh cool air.

I glanced at Morgan as I overtook him, but he did not say anything, only
trudged on till, suddenly laying his hand upon my arm, he pointed to a
tree dimly-seen through the overhung shades.

"That's the one I tied the line to," he said; "now I shouldn't wonder if
we find he has scratched himself a hole in the soft earth.  It's nearly
half water, and I dare say he could easy."

"And if he has, what then?"

"Why, we must pull him back by the rope.  He won't make much of a
struggle; it will be too tight round his neck, and choke him so.  There,
what did I tell you!"

He pointed to where the rope ran down from the tree apparently into the
ground.

"But if he had scratched a hole," I said, "he would have made a heap."

"Oh no; it's all so soft as soon as you get through the roots.  He'd
worm himself down right out of sight in no time, and--Well, I am took
aback."

Morgan had stooped down and picked up the noose.  The alligator had
gone.

"Somebody must have set him free, Morgan."

"Somebody?  What somebody would do that?  There arn't no monkeys about
here as I know of, or it might have been one of them.  Nobody else would
do it.  Ah, I see."

He pointed to the noose, and showed me how the rope was frayed and
teazled out, as if by the application of claws.

"That's it, plain enough.  He's had all night to do it in, and there he
has been scrat, scrat, scrat, scrat at his neck with those fore-paws of
his, till he got it loose and pushed it over his head."

"Nonsense!"  I said; "a thing like that wouldn't be clever enough."

"I don't know," said Morgan.  "They're clever enough to hunt and catch
dinners by slapping the water with their tails till the fish are
stunned; they're clever enough to make nests and lay eggs; and this one
was clever enough to try and cut me down with his tail, and I don't see
that it was so very wonderful for him to try and scratch off anything
that hurt his neck.  Mind that gun, my lad; you don't want to shoot me,
I know."

I coloured, and felt vexed at my clumsiness in the way of carrying the
loaded piece, and stood watching while Morgan untied the rope from the
tree, rolled it up in a ring, fastened it, and put his arm through
before turning back.

"Never mind," he said, cheerily, "better luck next time.  Now let's get
home to breakfast.  I dare say he has gone down to the river and got his
long enough ago."

We walked back to find a couple of men from the settlement--which
promised some day to be a town--and as I caught sight of them, I felt
sure that it was bad news which they had brought, and my father's
serious face confirmed the idea as he spoke to one of the men.

"Yes; tell the General I will be there in good time," my father was
saying, as we came within earshot; and the men saluted and went off in
regular military style, for many of them who had now turned settlers and
farmers had served in the army with the leaders of the expedition.  And
often, on thinking it over since, I have felt how wise a selection of
men there was; for, as you have yet to learn, it was highly necessary to
have folk who could turn their swords and spears into ploughshares and
sickles; but who, when it was necessary, could turn them back and use
them in the defence of their new homes.

"Have the Indians come back, father?"  I asked, eagerly.

He looked round quickly, starting slightly, for he had not seen me
approach, and he was deep in thought.

"No, boy," he said, sighing, "but it seems we are not to enjoy our homes
in peace; a new enemy is in the field."

I looked at him, waiting to hear more, but he was silent, and began
walking slowly to and fro till breakfast was ready.

During the meal he said suddenly--

"Put on the best things you have, my boy.  I am going up to the
settlement this morning.  I thought you would like to go."

I was not long in getting ready as soon as the meal was ended, and, to
my surprise, I found my father in uniform, and with his sword by his
side; but he looked so quiet and stern that I did not like to question
him, and walked on steadily by his side, as he drew himself up and
marched forward, just as if his clothes had brought back old days, and
made him the stern, firm soldier once more.

It was a glorious walk.  The sun was scorchingly hot, but our whole way
was between the great sweet-scented pines, whose needle-like leaves
glistened like silver as they reflected back the sun's beams, and shaded
our way.  After a time we began to have glimpses of the big river, and
at last as we approached an opening I caught sight of a large ship, and
uttered an exclamation.

"Yes," said my father, as he saw what had taken my attention; "it is a
fine ship, but unfortunately she is not a friend."

I looked up at him inquiringly.

"Spaniard," he said, laconically.  "The Spaniards have a settlement down
in the south, and they have taken it into their heads that we are
trespassers.  I am going to be one of those who meet the officers this
morning."

Our walk was soon at an end, and my eyes were busy noting the way in
which houses had sprung up in large patches of land, spread along at a
short distance from the bank of the broad river into which our stream
ran, and evidently marked out regularly and running for some distance
back.

It was the beginning of a town, but as I saw it then, it was a
collection of houses and goodly gardens, with plantations of corn,
sugar-cane, and cotton, all growing luxuriantly among the trees, which
had been left standing here and there.

The scene was as animated as it was beautiful.  Boats lay at anchor,
dotted about in the glistening river, and right out, a quarter of a mile
from the shore, lay the Spanish vessel with her colours flying, and a
large boat lying alongside; while on shore I could see several of the
gentlemen I knew by sight, dressed like my father in uniform, and mostly
walking two and two in deep converse.

I had eyes for everything, and the picture I saw was soon printed
vividly in my imagination; one object that I remember well being the
English flag, which was blowing out from the top of a pole, which I soon
saw was not planted by man, being a tall straight pine which had been
lopped and smoothed down till it was exactly suited for the purpose to
which it was put.

Another thing too struck me, and that was the fact that though the
greater part of the men I saw about, standing idling and evidently
watching the ship with its boat alongside, were familiar to me, there
was quite a number of black faces, whose owners were loosely clad in
white cotton shirt and breeches, talking together, showing their white
teeth, and basking in the sun.

"Yes," said my father, as I looked inquiringly at him, "and it has been
in opposition to my wishes; but I am only one against many--they are
slaves."

Directly after, Colonel Preston came out of the largest of the wooden
houses in company with another officer, and as they caught sight of my
father, they hastened their pace and came towards him.

"Ah, Bruton," said the colonel, "you have come."

"Yes," said my father, smiling, as he shook hands with both; "and you
had been thinking that as I was such an opponent of many of your
measures, and held myself so much aloof, I should stay away."

"Well," said the colonel, who seemed startled by my father's words, "I
must confess I--"

"Had not much faith in me, Preston.  But I hope that in any emergency
where my help is required, I shall not be found wanting."

"I am sure of it.  I beg your pardon for my ungenerous thoughts," said
the colonel, warmly; "and I am sorry that you and I do not always think
the same."

"Whatever we may think, Preston," said my father, warmly, "I hope we
shall always hold each other in esteem."

"I know we shall," cried the colonel; and he shook hands warmly with me.
"Glad to see you, youngster," he said; "but be quick and grow into a
man.  We want sturdy fellows who can handle a sword, and fight for their
land."

"Then they are aggressive, Preston?" said my father.

"Aggressive!  You never heard such overbearing insolence."

"Yes, insolence," said the other officer.  "Would you believe it,
Captain Bruton; they demand that we shall immediately give up this
land--this settlement which we have taken in the name and by permission
of his Majesty the King--and go."

"Where?" said my father, gravely.

"Ah, that they do not say," cried Colonel Preston.  "An officer has come
with this command from the governor of their settlement, and, in the
customary haughty style of the overbearing Spaniard, the message has
been delivered, and the ambassador is coming to meet us at the General's
in about an hour for our reply as to how soon we shall be gone."

"That sounds Spanish," said my father.  "Then they do not propose to
reimburse us for all that we have done, or to find us another
settlement?"

"No, no, no," cried the colonel, angrily; "our orders are to go--to
evacuate the settlement at once."

"That would be a painful task if we had to submit."

"Submit!" said the colonel, angrily.  "Surely, Bruton, you would not
advocate such a plan after all that we have done?"

My father made no reply, but turned to look thoughtfully at the Spanish
ship, while the colonel seemed to be raging with anger.

"You will be present at the meeting, of course?" he said.

"Yes," said my father, quickly; "I have come on purpose.  We must have
this peaceably settled if possible."

"Good heavens!" cried the colonel.  "Ah, here is the General," he cried,
as the quiet, grave, benevolent man came up, dressed in a very shabby
uniform, whose gold lace was sadly frayed and tarnished.  "Hark here,
sir; Captain Bruton talks of a peaceful settlement of this difficulty."

"Indeed!" said the General, frowning; and I looked at him eagerly, as I
recalled that he it was who had been spoken of as the leader of our
expedition.  "Well, we shall see."

"And very shortly too," said Colonel Preston, warmly, "for here they
come."

All eyes were directed toward the large boat which had just pushed away
from the Spaniard, and which was now running rapidly toward the shore,
with the blades of the oars flashing, the flag in the stern-sheets
trailing in the water, and the glint of weapons seen now and then,
showing that those on board were well-armed.  Then the General spoke.

"Preston and Crayford, have the goodness to receive these Spanish
gentlemen, and bring them up to my house.  The rest, I hope, will
assemble quickly there, so that I can hear what they have to say."

This had evidently all been planned over night, for the officers in
uniform all seemed to be making fast for the house out of which I had
seen the General come, and before many minutes had elapsed the room was
thronged, and I was standing behind my father, who was close to where
the General stood.

Not a word was spoken, and in the silence I could hear plainly the noise
made by the sailors in laying in their oars, after which there was a
pause, and then plainly heard there were the tramp of men, the buzz of
voices.  About a dozen soldiers halted outside, and four tall, dark,
handsome-looking Spanish officers were ushered in by Colonel Preston and
Mr Crayford.

Seats were proffered, but declined, and all remained standing, while the
Spanish officers conferred together for a few moments before one, who
seemed the youngest and lowest in rank, stepped forward, and in fair
English said haughtily--

"Gentlemen, I have come for your answer to the communication brought to
you last night from the governor of his most sacred Majesty's
possessions here in America.  What is it to be?"

"Let me say first, sir," said the General, quietly, "that we do not
recognise the authority here of the King of Spain.  We are on ground
belonging to his Majesty the King of England."

"You are interlopers, sir, on the colonial possessions of his Majesty
the King of Spain," said the young officer, coldly.  "When will you have
evacuated this land?"

"What is to be our reply, gentlemen?" said the General, looking round.
"Am I to send word back that you will give up tamely, and submit to this
demand?"

"No, no, no," rose in an angry roar throughout the room.

"You alone were silent, Captain Bruton," said the General, sternly.
"Have you nothing to say?"

"Yes," said my father, who turned very white; and he took a step
forward.  "Sir," he said to the Spanish officer, "is the governor of
your settlement aware that we are no trespassers here, but that we came
under the authority of his Majesty King George?"

"I believe all that has been discussed, sir," said the officer, coldly.
"Again I ask, how soon will you evacuate this place?"

"You are hasty, sir," said my father; and a murmur arose in the room.
"Gentlemen," he continued, turning towards his brother officers and
members of the expedition, "bear with me for a few moments."

There was another murmur and then silence, with every eye fixed angrily
upon my father's face, as he turned once more to the Spanish officers.

"Gentlemen," he said, "all of us who are here consider that we are
acting within our rights in taking and holding this land, which you see
we have turned from a wilderness into a smiling home.  The question of
right seems to be in dispute.  Cannot it be peacefully settled, for the
sake of all?  I think we can convince your governor that we are only
acting within our rights."

The Spanish officer who was evidently the leader said a few words
angrily to the interpreter, who nodded shortly.

"Your answer?" he said, haughtily.

"That we demand a peaceable solution of this difficulty, and that there
be no bloodshed."

"When will you go?" cried the young Spaniard aggressively, and amidst a
low angry murmur I saw my father's face flush, as he took another step
forward, and raising his sword with his left hand he clapped his right
down upon the hilt.

A silence fell upon all, and his words rang out loudly and clearly as he
exclaimed with his eyes flashing and his brows knit--

"When our hands have no longer strength to draw our swords, sir--when
the last man has been beaten down in our struggle for liberty and life--
when we have again taught haughty, overbearing Spain that the English
race is not one to draw back--when--I beg your pardon, General," said my
father, stopping short.

"Go on, sir," said the General, sternly.  "I would not wish for a better
exponent of my views."

"Then go, sir," continued my father, "and tell the man who sent you that
we are, all whom you see here, Englishmen who have made this our home--
men who mean to keep what we have won in defiance of Spain and all her
hosts."

"Is this your answer?" said the Spanish officer, sternly, as soon as
silence came after a tremendous cheer.

"Yes," cried the General, "that is our answer, gentlemen, so go in
peace."

"Yes, sir," said the Spaniard, after a few muttered words with his
companions, "to return in war."

His defiance was received in calm silence, and he and his companions
were led out again by Colonel Preston and Mr Crayford, not a word being
spoken till they had been seen to march down to the rough quay, embark,
and row off to their ship.

It was not till Colonel Preston and Mr Crayford had returned, full of
excitement, that the silence was broken by the General.

"Well, gentlemen," he said, "what have you to say?"

"God save the King!" said my father, enthusiastically.

"Then you will all fight in defence of your hearths and homes?"

A tremendous cheer was the answer.

"Well, then," said the General, "we must be prepared.  I look upon it
all as an empty, insolent piece of bombast; but whatever it is, we must
not be taken unawares.  Help shall be at once asked from England, and
meantime we must do all we can to place ourselves in a state of
defence."

"Well, George," said my father, as we walked back home, seeing the sails
of the Spaniard set, and that she was gliding slowly down the river,
"what have you to say to all this?"

"I should like to know whether the Spaniards will come back."

"Ah, that remains to be proved, my boy.  We shall see."

"Not they," said Morgan, when I told him, and he was listening eagerly
to my account of what had taken place.  "If we were Indians perhaps they
would; but we're Englishmen and Welshmen, look you.  No, my lad, we're
more likely to see those Indians.  Depend upon it, all that Spaniel said
was a bit of bounce."



CHAPTER TEN.

Those were busy times at the settlement, where the crops and everything
else were neglected so that all hands might work at the block-house, or
fort, it was determined to build, so as to have a place to flee to in
case of attack, and the fight going against us.

Wood was plentiful enough, and the _chip-chop_ of the axes was heard all
day long, willing hands toiling hard, so that at the end of a week a
strong wooden breastwork was contrived; and this, as the time went by,
was gradually improved, sheds and huts being run up within for shelter
from the dews and rain, and for store-places in case we were besieged.

But the weeks went by, and the Spaniards made no sign, and as far as we
could tell were not likely to.  Still the General did not relax his
efforts; outposts and guards did duty; a well was dug inside the fort,
and stores were gathered in, but no enemies came, and their visit began
to seem like a bit of history.

My father and Morgan had walked over with me to the fort every morning,
and there gentlemen toiled beside the ordinary labourers and the slaves;
but no fresh alarm came, and at last we were back at the house
regularly, and time was devoted to making up for the past neglect,
Morgan bemoaning the state of the garden most piteously.

I suppose I must have been about fifteen years old then, but cannot be
sure.  All I know is that the whole business stands out vividly in my
mind, as if it had taken place yesterday.  In fact I can sit down, close
my eyes, and recall nearly the whole of my boyish life on the river,
with the scenes coloured by memory till they seem to grow.  At such
times it seems to me that I can actually breathe in the sweet lemony
odour of the great laurel-leaved flowers borne on what, there, were
often great trees dotted with blossoms which looked like gigantic
creamy-white tulips, one of which great magnolias flourished at the end
of our house.

On the day of which I am speaking, Morgan Johns, our serving-man and
general hand, for there was nothing he was not ready to do, came and
told my father that there was a schooner in the river, adding something
which my father shook his head over and groaned.  This, of course, made
me open my ears and take an interest in the matter at once.

"Well, sir, look you," said Morgan, "I'll do as much as I can, but you
keep on fencing in more and more land, and planting more and more
trees."

"Yes, I do, Morgan," said my father, apologetically; "but see how
different it is to cold, mountainous North Wales."

"North Wales is a very coot country, sir," said Morgan, severely.  "No
man should look down on the place of his birth."

"Nobody does, Morgan.  I often long to see Snowdon, and the great ridge
of blue mountains growing less and less till they sink into the sea."

"Ah," said Morgan, enthusiastically, and speaking more broadly, "it's a
fery coot country is Wales.  Where are your mountains here?"

"Ah, where are they, Morgan?  The place is flat enough, but see how rich
and fat the soil is."

"Yes, it's fery good," said Morgan, growing more English.

"And see how things grow."

"Yes; that's the worst of them, sir; they grow while you're looking at
them; and how can one man fight against the weeds, which grow so fast
they lift your coat off the ground?"

"In time, Morgan, in time," said my father.  "Yes, sir, in time.  Ah,
well, I'll work till I die, and I can't do any more."

"No, Morgan," said my father, quietly, "you cannot do any more."

"The other gentlemen who came out don't mind doing it, and their little
estates are in better order than ours."

"No, Morgan," said my father, decisively, "I will not have that.  Nobody
had such fruit as we did last year."

"Well, master," said our old servant, with his hard, dry face
brightening up into a smile, "I think we can beat them all round; but if
you are going on enclosing fresh clearings from the forest, I must have
more help."  My father shook his head and Morgan went on, "The other
gentlemen are going aboard, one after another; why don't you go too,
sir?"

"If I went, it would be to try to put a stop to it, Morgan, and cry
shame on my neighbours for what they are doing."

"Ah, well, master, I've done," said Morgan.  "I'll work till I drop, and
I can do no more."

My father turned to the old-fashioned desk he had brought from home, and
went on writing a letter, while, after giving him a look full of
vexation, our man gave his straw hat a flop against his side, and went
out.

I was not long in following and overtaking him by the rough fence which
enclosed our garden.

"Morgan!  Morgan!"  I cried.

"Well, Master George, boy, what is it?"

"What did you want father to do?"

"Go and ask him."

"No, I shan't; I shall ask you.  Did you want him to buy something to
help in the garden?"

Morgan looked at me quietly and nodded.

"What was it?--a new spade?"

"Nay, boy; but people to use spades and hoes--'specially the last."

"But you can't buy people."

"Can't you, boy?"

"Only slaves.  Oh, I say, Morgan!  I know; you wanted father to buy some
slaves."

"Ay, boy, that's it.  Every one else here's doing it, so why shouldn't
we?"

"I don't know," I said, thoughtfully.  "I know this," I cried; "that
schooner that came into the river has got slaves on board."

"That's right, Master George, boy.  Cargo of blacks from the Guinea
coast, and our neighbours are buying 'em so fast that there won't be one
left if we want any."

"We don't want any," I said, indignantly.

"No, Master George, boy, so your father said; and I'm going to ask him
to graft me."

"To graft you?"

"Ay, my lad, with a row of extra arms all down each side, like that
picture of the Injin idol in your book."

"What nonsense, Morgan!"

"Oh, I don't know, Master George.  One pair of hands can't do the work
here.  Wants a dozen pair, seems to me.  Well, I've done my dooty.  I
told master there was a chance to get some slaves."

"And of course my father would not buy slaves," I said, indignantly.

"No, sir; and the house and plantations I've took such pride in will all
go to ruin now."

"Morgan!"

We both started and looked round to see my father standing in the rough
porch of rugged oak-wood.

The man went up to him.

"You have made me uneasy about all this," he said, thoughtfully.  "I
will go on board the schooner, and see who is there among my neighbours.
I should like to interfere if I could."

"Better not, sir.  May make bad blood after."

"Morgan!" cried my father, so sternly that the man drew himself up as if
he were on parade, and his old officer were in uniform.  "Do not forget
yourself, sir.  Go and unloose the boat.  You can row me on board."

Morgan saluted and went away, while my father began to walk up and down
the sandy path among his flowers.  I waited a bit, and then went
hesitatingly up to him.  For a few minutes he did not notice me, and I
saw that his lips were pressed close together, and his brow wrinkled.

"Ah, George," he said at last, and he laid his hand upon my shoulder.

"Going out in the boat, father?"

"Yes, my boy."

"Take me too."

He looked at me quickly, and shook his head.

"But I should like to go, father."

"My boy," he said, "I am going on board a ship lying in the river--a
vessel used by cruel-hearted men for trafficking in their
fellow-creatures."

"Yes, I know, father," I said; "a slaver."

He frowned a little, but went on.

"I am going to see if I can do any good among my friends and neighbours.
It would be no proper sight for you."

I felt disappointed, but when my father spoke in that firm, quiet way, I
knew that he meant every word he said, and I remained silent, but
followed him as he took his hat and stick and walked slowly down to the
little landing-place, where Morgan was already seated in the boat with
the painter held in one hand, passed just round the trunk of the nearest
tree, and ready to slip as soon as my father stepped on board.

A slight motion of an oar sent the stern of the boat close in to the
bank, my father stepped in, the painter was slipped, and the boat
yielded to the quick current, and began to glide away.

But just then my father raised his head, saw me standing there
disconsolate, and said aloud--

"Would you very much like to come, George?"

"Oh, yes, father," I shouted; and he made a sign.  Morgan pulled his
left-hand oar, and I forced my way through the dense undergrowth to
reach the spot where the boat was being pulled in, fifty yards down
stream.

It was hard work, and I had not gone far through the dense leafage, and
over the soft, spongy, river-soaked bank, before there was a rush and a
scuffle, followed by a splash, and though I saw nothing, I knew that it
was a small alligator, taking refuge in the water after a night's
wandering ashore.

I had heard these sounds so often, and was so accustomed to the dread
shown by the reptiles, that I did not hesitate to go on, and soon after
reached the place where Morgan was holding on by the overhanging bushes,
drawing the boat so close in that I easily stepped down on to one of the
thwarts, giving my father a bright, eager look, but he did not see it;
so taking one of the oars, I sat down behind our man, and rowed hard
till our boat glided out of the mouth of the stream which ran through my
father's property, and reached the turbid waters of the great river.

As we passed out of the mouth of our stream, and round the bushes on the
point, there lay the schooner a couple of hundred yards away, anchored
in the middle, with her long raking masts tapering in the sunshine, and
the great spars glistening and bright as if freshly greased.

She was low in the water, and as I looked over my shoulder, I caught
sight of a boat just pushing off to go down stream, and noted that she
was rowed by some of our neighbours, and had black men on board.

I saw my father give a quick look in the direction of the boat, and
frown, but he did not speak, and we rowed on.

As we neared the schooner I more than once became conscious of a
peculiar offensive odour, that I thought must be something coming up
with the tide; but I was too much interested in the slaver to give more
than a passing thought to such a matter, and my eagerness and excitement
increased as we drew near.  For I heard loud voices, and saw our nearest
neighbour close to the side, talking to a hard-looking, deeply-bronzed
man.  Then one of the sailors threw us a rope; we made fast, my father
stepped on board, and I followed.

"Better take the other two I've got, colonel, and clear me out," said
the bronzed man.

"No, I think not," said Colonel Preston, who had exchanged a short nod
with my father, and he turned to where a dejected-looking group of
negroes, both men and women, were standing on the deck close to the open
hold.

"Better alter your mind; make your black hay while the sun shines.  I
may never come up your river again.  I'll throw in the other two dirt
cheap."

I felt the colour come into my cheeks, and then felt how pitiful it was
for the miserable, drooping, nearly nude creatures to be sold like that;
but my attention was taken up directly by my father's looks and the
colonel's words as he said, sternly--

"No; six are all I want, and it seems to me that half of these will die
before I have had them long ashore."

"No; they'll soon pick up.  We've had a rough crossing," said the slaver
captain, "and the quarters are a bit close.  We ran short of water too,
and a tidy lot died, and made the others bad.  You give 'em time, and
that lot 'll turn out as cheap as anything you ever bought.  You should
have seen them when they first came aboard--lively and spry as could be.
Have the other two.  Hi!  Below there!" he continued, as he went to the
open hold, and boy-like I stepped forward, full of curiosity, to look
down too.

But I started back in horror, as a hot puff of the revolting odour I had
previously noticed came up from below.

"Ah, not very sweet, youngster," said the slaver captain, with a laugh.
"Going to brimstone it out well as soon as I've made a clearance.  Got
two more, haven't you?"

"Ay," came up in a growl.

"Man and woman, eh?"

"Boy and a man," came up.

"Send 'em on deck."

There was a pause, during which I heard from below--"Now then!  Up with
you!" and the sound of blows, which made me draw a long breath, and I
was going back once more to the hold when I felt my father's hand upon
my shoulder, and saw as I looked up that he was deadly pale.

"Hoist 'em up there!" shouted the captain, and a rope rove through a
block was lowered down.

"How can you join in this cursed business, Preston?" said my father in a
low tone to our neighbour.

"I was going to ask you that," said the colonel, coldly.

"Me?  Ask me?"

"Yes, sir; you have come on board to buy slaves, I suppose, with the
rest of us?"

"I deny it," said my father, flashing out, as he drew himself up.  "I
came on board, too late it seems, to try and prevail upon my brother
emigrants--English gentlemen of birth and position--to discountenance
this hateful traffic in the bodies of our fellow-creatures."

"We must have men to work if our colony is to succeed, Captain Bruton."

"Oh!" ejaculated my father, and then in a low voice, as his eyes rested
on the group of poor black wretches huddled together, I heard him say,
"It is monstrous!"

At that moment a couple of sailors began to haul at the rope run through
the block; it tightened, and with a cheery "Yo-ho!" they ran up what
seemed to be the dead body of a big negro, whose head and arms hung down
inert as he was hoisted on high; the spar to which the block was
fastened swung round, the rope slackened, and the poor wretch plumped
down on the deck, to lie motionless all of a heap.

"Not in very good fettle," said the slave captain, curtly; "but he'll
come round."

The rope was cast loose from the negro's chest, lowered down again, and
I gazed from the poor wretch lying half or quite dead on the deck, to my
father, and back again, noting that he was very pale, biting his lower
lip, and frowning in a way that I knew of old meant a storm.

"Now then, up with him!" shouted the captain.

"Ay, ay, but look out, or he'll be overboard.  He's lively as an eel,"
came from below.

"Right!" said the captain; and he took up a small line and held it ready
in both hands.

The rope tightened; there was a cheery "Yo-ho!" and up came a black,
impish-looking boy of about my own age, kicking, struggling, and tearing
at the rope round his chest.

But it was all in vain; he was swung round, held suspended with his feet
just clear of the deck, and his wrists were caught in a loop of the line
bound together, his ankles were served the same, and the lad was dropped
on the deck to lie writhing like some wild animal, showing his teeth,
and watching us all in turn with his rolling eyes.

"Come," said the slave captain, laughingly turning to Colonel Preston;
"he's lively enough to make up for the other.  Better have 'em.  I'll
throw them in for next to nothing."

"No," said our neighbour, coldly.  "That man is dying, and the boy would
be of no use to me."

"The man is not dying," said the slave captain roughly, "but he soon
will be if you don't have him.  As for this shaver, he's about as near
being an imp as we can find.  Keep away, my lad, or he may bite you."

This was to me, as I approached the boy, who showed his teeth at me like
a vicious dog.

"Going to have 'em, colonel?"

"No; once more, no," said the colonel, sternly.  "I am only waiting for
my boat."

"All right, sir, I don't go begging.  What do you say?" he continued,
turning to my father.  "Will you buy those two?"

"I?" cried my father, angrily; "buy my fellow-creatures for slaves?"

"Oh, no, of course not," said the slave captain.  And then to himself,
but I heard him, "Too good a man, I suppose.--Sorry you won't have 'em,
colonel.--Heave 'em down."

The men on deck advanced to the insensible negro, and were in the act of
stooping to pass the rope once more about his chest, when my father, who
could bear the scene no longer, said quietly--

"Do you not see that man is dying?"

"Yes, sir.  Altered your mind?  You can have the two a bargain."

"Bah!" exclaimed my father, fiercely.  "Man, have you no heart, no
feeling?"

"Not that I know of, sir.  This trade would take it out of any one."

"But the poor creature's lips are dried up.  He wants water."

"He'll have plenty to-night, sir," said the slave captain, with a laugh.
"Down with him, my lads."

"Ay, ay, sir," said the men; the rope was passed round the negro, and
the men seized the end to haul.

"I can't bear it," I heard my father say in a whisper; and then
aloud--"Stop!"

"Eh?  What for?"

"I will buy the man," said my father.

"And the boy?"

"N--"

"Yes, yes," I shouted, excitedly.

My father turned upon me with an angry look, but he seemed to read mine,
and his face changed.

"Yes," he said, quietly.

"Right, and a good riddance," said the captain, laughing, as he held out
his hand for the money my father began to count out.  "I don't mind
telling you now, sir; if you hadn't bought him, he'd have been dead
enough to-night; but you get him ashore and take care of him, and he'll
come round--he will indeed; I'm not tricking you.  It's wonderful what a
deal these niggers will bear.  There, I like to deal square," he added,
as he thrust the money in his pocket.  "Smithers, shove a chain on that
boy's legs, and another on the man's."

"Ay, ay, sir."

"No, no, for Heaven's sake, no," cried my father.

"Oh, just as you like," said the slave captain.  "I was going to give
you the shackles; only I warn you, if you don't have them on, that man
as soon as you revive him will make for the river and drown himself, and
the boy will be off into the woods."

"Do what is best," said my father, and the shackles were put on.

"Shall we hoist them into the boat for you?"

"If you please," said my father, coldly.

"Heave ahead, my lads," cried the slave captain; "and below there, get
those brimstone-pans going at once."

"Ay, ay," came from below, and I saw a lighted lanthorn passed down as
my father's two slaves were hoisted over the side, and lowered into the
boat, where Morgan stood ready with a grim smile upon his lip.

"You'll get yours home first, Bruton," said Colonel Preston, coming to
my father's side; "my boat's all behind.  I say, neighbour, don't preach
at me any more.  You're as bad as any of us, and I'm glad you've come to
your senses at last."

My father gave him a peculiar look, and then glanced at the group of
slaves destined for the Preston property, where they stood huddled
together quite apathetic and hopeless-looking.

The next minute we were at the gangway, and as I passed down, I saw
three rough-looking men coming up out of the hold, and a thin bluish
vapour began to curl up before they smothered it down by rapidly
covering the opening and drawing over it a well-tarred canvas.

Very soon after I was in the boat, stooping to take an oar, and gazing
at the stern, where the man lay as if dead, and the boy, whose bonds had
been secured to the thwart, lay glaring at me viciously, and had taken
hold of the edge of the boat in his white teeth; and directly after, as
we rowed away from the floating horror upon whose deck we had so lately
stood, there came the regular beat of oars, and I saw Colonel Preston's
boat, which had evidently been ashore with one load, coming back for the
other poor wretches and their owner.

"Why, hang me!" said a voice, evidently not intended for our ears, "if
that puritanical Captain Bruton hasn't been buying niggers too."

The calm water bears sound to a great distance.

I saw my father wince a little, and he turned to me bending down, so
that his lips were pretty close to my ear.

"Yes," he said, "Captain Bruton has been buying niggers too."

"No, no, father," I said, looking up; "one of them is mine."

"And what are you going to do with him?" he said, slowly, as his eyes
seemed to search mine.

"Do with him, father?"  I said, promptly.  "Let him go."



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

Our first task on getting out of the main river and up our stream to the
landing-place where the boat was made fast, was to get the boy ashore,
and it proved to be no light task; coaxing and threats were received in
the same spirit--for of course he could not comprehend a word.  All he
seemed to realise was that he was in the hands of his enemies; and that
if he could get a chance, he ought to bite those hands.

"You'll have to be careful, Morgan," I said, as our man stooped down to
unfasten the rope which held the boy to the thwart.

"Careful?  What for, Master George?  Think I should break him?"

"No; he bites."

"Oh, he won't bite me," said Morgan, confidently.  "Like to catch him at
it."

He had his wish, for the boy swung himself round and set his teeth hard
in Morgan's leg.

"Oh!  Well, he is hungry, and no mistake," said Morgan, freeing himself
by giving the boy's head a sharp thrust.

"Has he bitten you?" said my father.

"Well, he have, and he haven't, sir.  Breeches was a bit too tough for
him, but he has nipped me finely.  Wonderful power in his jaw.  No, no,
Master George, don't you touch him; he'll have to go in the copper
first.  Ah, would you!  Why, he's like a fish, only he arn't hooked."

For the boy had made a dash for liberty, and it was only after a severe
struggle that he was held down, and this time I was the sufferer; for,
as I helped to keep him from springing overboard, he swung his head
round and fixed his teeth in my left arm in a pinch that seemed to be
scooping out a circular piece of flesh.

"Well, he is a warmint, and no mistake.  Let go, will you, sir?"

"Don't strike the boy," said my father.  "Let me get hold of his jaw."

The boy saw the hand coming and wrenched himself away, seeming to take a
piece of my arm with him, and leaving me throbbing with agonising pain,
and feeling as if I must yell out and sob and cry.

"Well done, George!" said my father, pressing my shoulder in a firm
grip.  "That's brave; always try and bear pain like a man."

"But it hurts horribly," I said, with my eyes full of tears.

"I know it does, my lad, but noise will not ease the pang.--Now, Morgan,
you had better fetch another rope and bind him well."

"S'pose I had, sir.  I'd take hold of him and carry him ashore, but he'd
have his teeth into me directly.  S'pose people don't go mad after being
bit by boys?  On'y feel mad, eh, Master George?"

I nodded, for I could not trust myself to speak, and I stood looking on
as the boy was held back in the bottom of the boat, with my father's
foot upon his breast.

"Shall I fetch a rope, sir?  Can you hold him?"

"Yes, I think so.  We can manage him between us."

Morgan leaped ashore, and he was about to go up to the house, when a
rush and scramble brought him back, for the boy was struggling like an
eel; and how he managed I do not know, but he wriggled from beneath my
father's foot, passed under the thwart, and, as I tried to stop him,
threw me backwards, and was over the side with a splash and beneath the
stream.

As I uttered a cry of horror I saw the boy's woolly head appear for a
moment above the surface, and then go down, weighted as he was by the
shackles on his ankles; and, as I gazed, I nearly went after him, the
boat gave such a lunge, but I saved myself, and found that it was caused
by Morgan leaping back rope in hand, after unfastening the moorings, and
it was well he did so, sending the boat well off into the stream,
floating after our purchase.

"See him?" cried my father, eagerly, as he threw off hat and coat ready
to dive in.

"Not yet, sir," said Morgan, standing ready with the boat-hook.

"I would not have him drowned for five hundred pounds," cried my father.
"No, no, George, my boy, you must not go after him; his struggles would
drown you both."

"Don't see him, sir.  Big alligator hasn't got him, has it?"

"Don't talk like that, man," cried my father, with a shudder; "but you
ought to be able to see him in this clear water."

"I see him!"  I cried, excitedly; "give me the boat-hook."

It was passed to me, and after a couple of misses, I felt the hook take
hold, drew up gently, and as I hauled in, we found that the boy was
coming up feet first, the iron having passed between the ring of the
shackle and the boy's ankle.

"Steady, my lad, steady!" cried Morgan, as I drew the boy nearer, and
the next minute he was seized and drawn into the boat, feeble and
helpless now, half dead, and making no further attempt to escape as the
boat was paddled back toward the landing-place.

"That's quieted him a bit anyhow, sir," said Morgan.  "Won't take his
clothes long to dry, Master George, will it?"

"Poor fellow!  He has been so ill-used," said my father, "that he thinks
we mean to do him harm."

"Oh, we'll soon teach him better, sir," replied Morgan, as I laid my
hand on the boy's side to feel if his heart was beating.  "Oh, he arn't
drowned, sir, and the wash 'll do him no end of good.  Here we are!"

He leaped out, made the boat fast, and then, coming back, was about to
carry the boy ashore; but my father had forestalled him, and stepped out
with the boy in his arms, laying him gently down on the grass, and then
looking wonderingly at Morgan, who had followed, and knelt down to pass
a rope through the shackle and make it fast to a ring-bolt used for
mooring the boat, and driven into one of the tree-trunks close to the
water.

"Not necessary," said my father.

"Begging your pardon, sir, he'll come to and be off while we're busy
perhaps.  Now about the man; I'm rather 'fraid about him."

"We must get him ashore," said my father; and after securing the boat
parallel with the log which formed the bottom of the landing-place, they
managed to get the poor creature, who was quite an inert mass, out upon
the bank, and then, after placing one of the bottom-boards of the boat
under his back, I joined in, and we dragged him right up to where the
boy lay insensible.

"I'm afraid we are too late," said my father, as he felt the black's
pulse.

"Yes, sir, you've threw good money away here," said Morgan; "he'll never
do a stroke of work for us, but thank you kindly for meaning help all
the same, and I must try what I can do with the boy."

"Is he dead, father?"  I whispered, in an awe-stricken tone.

"No, but dying, I am afraid.  He has been starved and suffocated in that
vile schooner.  Good heavens!  How can men be such fiends?"

"Ay, that can't do no harm," said Morgan, as I filled the boat's baler
with water, and knelt down by the negro's side to begin trickling a few
drops from time to time between his cracked lips, and sprinkling his
face.

"I will fetch a few drops of spirit," said my father.  "Keep on giving
him a little water."

He went away toward the house while I continued my task, and Morgan kept
up a running commentary upon the man's appearance.

"Pity, too," he said.  "Master oughtn't to have let them cheat him
though, like this.  Fine working chap.  See what a broad, deep chest
he's got, Master George.  Don't think much of his legs, but he's got
wonderful arms.  My!  What a sight of hoeing I could have got him to do,
but it's a case of hoe dear me!  With him, I'm afraid."

"You don't think he'll die, Morgan, do you?"  I said, piteously.

"Ay, but I do, my dear lad.  They've 'bout killed him.  We want help,
but I'm 'fraid all that slave-dealing's 'bout as bad as bad can be.
Give him a few more drops o' water; those others trickled down."

I gave the man a few more drops, pouring them from my fingers almost at
minute intervals, but he made no sign.  Then, all at once, I felt half
startled, for a pair of eyes were watching me, and I saw that the boy
had recovered sufficiently to be noticing everything that was going on.

As our eyes met, he looked at me like a fierce dog who was watching for
an opportunity to make a successful snap; but as he saw me trickle a few
more drops of water between the man's lips, his face suddenly grew
eager, and he looked at me, found my eyes fixed upon him, and slowly
opened his mouth widely.

"Want some water?"  I said; and I was going to him when he jerked
himself fiercely away, and showed his beautiful white teeth at me.

"Wo ho!" cried Morgan.  "Mind, lad, or he'll have his teeth in you."

"He's thirsty," I said; and I held the tin baler half full of water to
him.

He looked at me, then at the water, and I could see his lips move and
his teeth part, showing his dry tongue quivering like that of a dog.
Then he fixed his eyes upon me again fiercely.

"Let me give it him," said Morgan, as the boy's mouth opened widely
again, and there was a pitiful, imploring look in his eyes.

Now I could not understand all that when I was so young, but I've often
thought about it since, and seemed to read it all, and how nature was
making him beg for water for his parched tongue, while his education
forced upon him the desire to fight me as a cruel enemy.

"There," I said, going a little nearer, pushing the baler close to his
hands, and drawing back.

He looked at me, then at the water, and back at me, fixing me with his
eyes, as one hand stole slowly from his side towards the baler, drawing
it nearer and nearer stealthily, as if in dread of my snatching it away;
and then it was at his lips, and he gulped down the contents.

"There, I'm not going to hurt you," I said, stretching out my hand for
the baler, and getting it, meaning to go and fill it once more; and as I
returned I saw that he was watching me so wildly that I walked up, with
him shrinking away as far as he could go, and offered the tin to him
again.

He took it in the same shrinking way, evidently expecting a blow, and
drank heavily once more.

"Well, he couldn't ha' swallowed much, Master George, else he wouldn't
be so thirsty," said Morgan.  "Now give this here one a dose, though it
seems to me labour in vain; only it may make him go off a bit easy."

He filled the baler, and I knelt down again to sprinkle the poor
fellow's temples, and trickle a few drops once more between his lips,
the boy watching me the while, and then giving me the first notice of my
father's return by shuffling away in another direction.

"Poor wretch!"  I heard my father mutter, as he gave me a piece of
bread-cake, and pointed to the boy, before taking the cork from a
bottle, and slowly dropping a spoonful or two of spirit between the
man's teeth.

After this he waited, and I saw that the boy was watching him wildly.
Then he poured in a little more, without apparently the slightest
effect, and after looking on for a few minutes, I advanced toward the
boy, holding out the cake.  But I stopped short, with my hand extended,
looking at him, and then, as he took no notice of the cake, but stared
wildly at me, I broke off a few crumbs, and began to eat before him,
treating him as I would have treated some savage creature I wished to
tame, and breaking off a piece and throwing it within his reach.

Then I went on eating again, and after a time I saw his hand steal
slowly to the bread, his eyes fixed on mine, and he snatched the piece
and conveyed it to his mouth with a motion that was wonderful from its
rapidity.

This I repeated two or three times before feeling that I ought now to
have won his confidence a little, when I went close to him, put down the
cake, and went back to kneel by my father, whose hand was upon the man's
throat.

"Is he getting better?"  I said.

There was a shake of the head, and I looked then with a feeling of awe
at the black face before me, with the eyes so close that there was just
a gleam of the white eyeballs visible; but as I gazed, I fancied I saw a
jerking motion in the throat, and I whispered to my father to look.

"A good sign, or a bad one, my boy," he whispered.  "You had better go
now, back to the house."

"Yes, father," I said, unwillingly; "but don't you think you can cure
him like you did me when I was so ill?"

"I would to heaven I could, boy!" he said, so earnestly that I was
startled, and the more so that at the same moment the man slowly opened
his eyes, and stared at us vacantly.

"It is a hopeful sign," said my father, and he took the baler, poured
out all but a few drops of water, added some spirit, and placed it to
the man's lips, with the result that he managed to drink a little, and
then lay perfectly still, gazing at my father with a strange look which
I know now was one full of vindictive hate, for the poor wretch must
have read all this attention to mean an attempt to keep him alive for
more ill-treatment, or until he was sold.

"Take a little more," said my father, offering the vessel again, and the
man drank and once more lay still, glaring at us all in turn.

"Why, you'll save him after all, sir," said Morgan, eagerly.  "Hurrah!"

But no one paid heed to his remark, for at that moment there was a sort
of bound, and we saw that the boy had contrived to force himself so near
that he could lay his hand on the man's cheek, uttering as he did so a
few words incomprehensible to us, but their effect on the man was
magical: his features softened, and two great tears stole slowly from
his eyes as we watched the pair, the boy glaring at us defiantly, as if
to protect his companion, and I heard my father say softly--

"Thank God!"



CHAPTER TWELVE.

After a time, with the boy seeming to watch defiantly beside the great
fellow, the black revived sufficiently to swallow some bread soaked in
wine-and-water; the dull, filmy look left his eyes; and at last he
dropped off into a heavy sleep.

"Shall we try and carry him up to one of the sheds, sir?" said Morgan.

"No; the poor fellow has had a very narrow escape from death," replied
my father; "and I do not know even now that he will recover.  Fetch a
few boards to lay against that bough, and tie the boat-mast up there,
and fasten the sail against it, so as to act as a bit of shelter to keep
off the sun.  George, put some dry grass in a sack, and it will do for a
pillow."

We set about our task at once.

"Lor' ha' mussy!" grumbled Morgan, "what a fuss we are making about a
nigger.  Pillows for him!  Why don't master say, `Get the best bedroom
ready, and put on clean sheets'?  I say, Master George, think he'd come
off black?"

But all the same Morgan worked hard, with the great drops of
perspiration running off his face, till he had rigged up the shelter,
the black sleeping heavily the while, but the boy watching every act of
ours in a suspicious way, his eyes rolling about, and his lips twitching
as if he were ready to fly at us and bite.

"I know," said Morgan, all at once with a broad grin, as he was sloping
some boards lately cut from a tree over the sleeping negro.

"Know what?"  I said.

"What young sooty's a thinking.  He's a young canny ball, and he
believes we're going to make a fire and roast 'em for a feast."

Whatever the boy thought, he had ceased to struggle to get away, but lay
quite still with his arm stretched-out, so that he could touch the big
negro, and he was in this attitude when my father came back from the
house.

"Yes, that will do," he said, approvingly.

"Yes, sir, there won't be no sun get at him now.  Think he'll come
right?"

"Yes, I hope so.  Poor fellow!--if he has managed to live through the
horrors of that slaver's hold, now that he has taken a turn for the
better he may recover.  He must have been a splendidly healthy fellow,
and--"

"Well, he arn't now, sir, anyhow," said Morgan.  "What'll I do with
young coal-box, sir?  Better chain him up in the shed, hadn't I, or
he'll be off?"

My father did not reply for some moments, but stood watching the boy, as
he lay with his bright eyes fixed on first one and then the other, like
a wild creature ready to act on its defence.

"He must have known a good deal of this negro," said my father,
thoughtfully.  "Go and slacken that rope."

"If I do, sir, he'll go off like a 'coon, and we shall never see him
again," said Morgan.

"Did you hear my orders?" said my father, in the sharp military way in
which he spoke sometimes.

Morgan went to the ring-bolt, and began to unfasten the rope, when at
the first quiver the boy half started up and remained crouching, ready
to spring away.

"Shall I go on, sir?" said Morgan.

"Yes; slacken the rope sufficiently to let him reach the man."

"He'll make a dash for it, Master George," grumbled Morgan.

He was right, for the boy did make a dash as soon as he saw that the
rope which tethered him to the tree was loosened, but only to creep
close up to the negro, thrust his arm under his neck, and press close to
his side.

"I thought so," said my father.  "Draw that rope from the shackles."

"What, undo him altogether, sir?"

"Yes."

"Oh, all right, Master George," grumbled Morgan to me.  "I could have
leathered the young imp into shape, and made a labourer of him in time;
but if your father likes to waste his money it is no business of mine."

My father's back was towards us, and he was standing at some little
distance so as not to startle the boy, who rose again, crouched, and
looked wildly at us, as the rope which had been simply passed through
the iron shackles began to run through a link till the end was drawn
out, and run over the ground to where Morgan stood grumbling and coiling
up the rope.

"No, he will not," said my father, gravely.  "There is something
stronger than hempen rope to hold him, George, evidently.  Unless I am
much mistaken, he will not leave the poor fellow's side."

"Ah, well, sir," said Morgan, as he hung the rope on the stump of a
branch, "they're your niggers, and niggers _is_ niggers.  I shouldn't
trust 'em, and they'll cut and run."

"If they do, my man, I shall be sorry," said my father, gravely, "for
they may fall into worse hands than ours.  We have no key to those
shackles; could you turn them with a file?"

"Little screwdriver may do it, sir?" said Morgan, thoughtfully.

"Fetch it from the tool-chest," said my father, shortly; and Morgan went
off grumbling something about waste of money.

He was back in a short time, during which the black still slept, and the
boy crouched by him watching us eagerly.

"Now," said my father, "see if you can open those ankle-rings.  No, no;
I mean the man's."

"But s'pose he's only shamming, sir, and jumps up, half kills me, and
runs?"

"I'll forgive him if he does," said my father, dryly, "for you are
getting to be a very dictatorial, meddling, insolent servant, Morgan."

"Well!" exclaimed Morgan.  "Hear that, Master George, and after me
following faithful all the way to these here wild shores.  Ah, master, I
didn't think you'd ha' said--Hi!  Keep back, you young warmint!"

For at the first movement of Morgan toward the sleeping black's feet,
the boy sprang up and showed his teeth like a dog.

"Stop!  Keep back," said my father, and Morgan drew away, muttering
something about a savage young tom wolf.

"It is quite natural," said my father, "and strengthens my ideas.  He
thought his companion was going to be hurt."  As my father spoke, he
moved toward the boy.

"Don't go anigh him without a stick, sir," said Morgan, hastily.

My father did not notice the remark, but turned to me.

"Be on your guard, George," he said; "but be firm, and I think the poor
fellow will understand what you are going to do.  Take the screwdriver,
and try if you can unfasten the boy's anklets first."

I obeyed, and advanced to the boy, whose aspect was rather startling;
but I went down on my knees, and before he could fly at me I caught
quickly hold of the chain which connected his legs.

That made him pause for a moment, and look down sharply to see what I
was going to do.  He seemed to have some idea directly; and as luck
would have it, the little square hole that was used to turn the screw
was toward me, the screwdriver went in, and it turned so easily that I
was able to open the filthy, rusty shackle, and set one leg free.

The boy's head moved like that of a bird, as he looked first at his foot
and then at me, and he stood quite still now, as I unscrewed the second
anklet and took it off.

"Throw the chains into the river," said my father.

"No, no," cried Morgan; "they may come in handy."

"For you?" said my father, with a curious smile.

Splash!  Went the iron rings and links, and the boy looked puzzled, but
made no opposition as I knelt down hard by the sleeping negro's feet,
and using the screwdriver as a key, opened both the anklets in turn, and
pointed to them as they lay on the grass, looking hard at the lad the
while.

He stared at me stupidly for a few moments, and then in a curiously
sullen manner stooped down, knelt down, and began to replace them on the
sleeping man's legs.

"No, no," I shouted; and the boy started away, flinching as if expecting
a blow; but as I stood pointing down at the irons, he stooped once more
and picked them up, looking at me wonderingly again, but as I pointed to
the river a flash of intelligence came from his eyes, and he whisked the
irons over his head, and cast them right out into the stream.

"Now fetch him something to eat," said my father, as the boy crouched
down by the man's head again under the shelter.

I went for some bread, and after a long time managed to make the boy
take it; but he only snatched it up after the fashion of a wild animal,
and ate it voraciously.

"There," said my father at last; "leave them now.  I dare say the poor
fellow will sleep for hours, and it will be the best thing for him.
Don't go far away, George; and if you find that he wakes, try and give
him some bread soaked in that thin French wine."

"Well," said Morgan, as soon as my father had gone back into the house,
"you don't catch me saying any more about it; but your father gave a lot
o' money for them two, and they might ha' been useful on the plantation;
but you mark my word, Master George, that there big nigger 'll begin to
open first one eye and then the other when we aren't looking; then him
and the boy 'll slip into the boat, and a'most afore we know it, look
you, they'll be gone."

"Nonsense, Morgan!"  I said.

"Nonsense!  Why, no, my boy, I reckon it's madness.  If master didn't
mean to have slaves why did he buy them?"

"To save them from being ill-treated."

"Ill-treated?" said Morgan, scornfully; "why, they're only niggers."

"Well, they're men, Morgan."

"Dunno so much about that, Master George.  They're blacks, that's what
they are, and everybody but master buys 'em to work on the plantations.
I did think master was going to be sensible at last.  Only slaves!"

"How would you like to be a slave, Morgan?"

"Me, Master George?  Well, you see I couldn't be.  I aren't a black.
There, I've got lots to do, and can't stand talking here.  These weeds
'll be all over my garden again directly.  You're going to stop, I
s'pose?"

"Yes."

"Well, call me if they seize the boat.  We can't let 'em have that.
When they do go, they'll have to swim."

So Morgan went off to his hoeing, and I stopped under the shade of the
big magnolia to keep my long watch.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

I kept about near the rough shelter rigged up for the two blacks,
wondering how my father would set about giving them their freedom, for I
seemed fully to understand that this was what he intended to do.  Every
now and then I glanced toward the place, where everything was
wonderfully still, and at such times I found myself thinking about
Morgan's words; and it appeared only natural that the poor fellows
should try to escape, being quite in ignorance of the hands into which
they had fallen; but if they did, I was fully determined to put a stop
to their taking our boat, for I did not mean to lose that, and have my
fishing expeditions spoiled.

After a time my task began to grow tedious, and I wanted to go and peep
in to see if they were asleep; but somehow I shrank from doing this, and
I began to wander about, now up to the house, and now back to the river,
thinking, as I stood there gazing down into the clear water, that it
would not be safe for the two blacks to lie there after dark, when the
great alligators came crawling out of the pools in search of food.  For
there were plenty of accounts current among the settlers of how people
had been attacked by the great reptiles, and I meant to suggest to my
father that the two should be sheltered in the great shed, which had a
strong door.

I glanced toward the canvas which hung from the spar, and suddenly awoke
to the fact that there was something black at one end; seeing directly
after that a bright eye was watching me, but only to be carefully
withdrawn as soon as its owner realised that he was seen.

I smiled to myself at this, and went off into the garden, where I could
hear Morgan's great hoe with its regular chop-chop, as he battled away
with the weeds which refused to acknowledge the difference between wild
waste and cultivated ground.

"Hullo!" cried Morgan, as soon as he saw me.  "What, have they slipped
off?"

"Slipped off?  No," I said, indignantly.  "I want a peach."

"Right, my lad," said Morgan; "and, look you, get one off the further
tree; they're not the best to look at, but they're the sweetest and the
best to taste, I can tell you."

Peaches grew easily and plentifully in the hot sunshine of our garden,
and securing a sample of the best, I went back toward the landing-place,
where I saw the boy's head pop back out of sight as soon as I appeared.
Then laying down the fruit just within reach of the corner from which I
had seen the boy watching me, I was in the act of turning away, when I
saw that I was being watched from the other side.

"Hullo, Morgan!"  I said.  "You there?"

"Yes, Master George, I'm here, and it's time I was," he cried, sourly.
"Do you think your father and me grafted them peach trees, and coaxed
'em on into bearing, for you to feed niggers with them?"

"I've a right to do what I like with the fruit, if I don't eat it," I
said, angrily.

"Oh, very well; I've done.  Seems to me that if master's to be always
bullying me on one side, and you on the other, the sooner I make up my
bundle and go home to Carnarvon, the better."

"That's what you always say, Morgan," I replied, laughing; "but you
never do go."

"Ah, but you'll see some day; and then you'll be sorry," he grumbled,
and away he went.

"I don't want to hurt his feelings," I thought; "but he needn't be so
disagreeable about the poor black fellows."

After a time I went to the shelter and looked in, to see that the man
was lying with his eyes opened; and, recalling what my father had said,
I gave him some bread and wine, which he ate as it was put to his lips,
in a dull, forbidding way which took all the pleasure out of what I had
thought was an act of kindness.

The peaches had disappeared, and I was saying to myself, "You might have
given him one!" when I found that both of them were lying close to the
black's head untouched.

About sunset my father came and looked at his purchase in a very grave
way, and then apparently satisfied he drew back.

"The man is recovering," he said.  "We saved his life, my boy, but they
must not stay there to-night.  I hardly believe that an alligator would
attack them; but one great fellow has been travelling through the garden
in the night, and if he came near them, there would be a terrible scare
if nothing worse."

"Where are they to go then, father?"

"In the large shed.  There are plenty of bundles of corn straw, and they
must make shift with that until we can build them a hut."

"Build them a hut?"  I said, in wondering tones.  "Are they going to
stop?"

"Stop?  Where else can they go, my lad?"

"I did not think of that, father," I said.

"No, poor fellows, when they have been sold into slavery, there is no
going back.  Even if we could put them ashore in Africa, it would only
be for them to be slain or sold again."

"Then--" I stopped short, afraid to finish my speech.

"Well, what were you going to say?"

"I was going to ask you if--if--"

"I was going to keep slaves like my neighbours, eh?"

"Yes, father," I said, bluntly.

"Yes, my boy.  It is forced upon me to do so; but it will be an easy
slavery, George.  We have thrown their chains away, and they are free to
go wherever they like.  Now call Morgan, and let's have them up here."

I called our man, and the sail was dragged aside, for the boy to crouch
menacingly by the man, who lay gazing at us in a dull, heavy way.

"How are we to make them understand?" said my father, who advanced, bent
down, and took hold of the negro's wrist and felt his pulse.

The boy bared his teeth, but the man said a word or two in his own
language, and the boy drew back.

"Stronger, decidedly," said my father; and he stood watching his
patient, while I fetched some more bread and soaked it in wine.

He ate it slowly and mechanically, like some beast of burden, and when
it was finished my father signed to him to get up, saying the words at
the same time.

He evidently understood, and tried to raise himself, nearly reaching to
a sitting position, but falling back from sheer weakness, and gazing
shrinkingly at us as if expecting a blow.

But as no blow came he spoke to the boy, who at once took his hands and
pulled him into a sitting position, but the man could do no more, and
uttered a low groan in his abject weakness as he gazed up in his eyes.

My father thought for a moment and then turned to Morgan.

"Get the sail," he said; and the triangular piece of canvas was spread
beside the man on the ground.

"Now," said my father, "creep on to that, and we'll carry you."

The man looked up at him with his brow puckered over with lines, but he
did not comprehend.

"Show him what I mean," said my father; and I lay down on the canvas,
and then rose up, and my father pointed.

The negro understood him, spoke to the boy, and with his help and
Morgan's half rolled, half dragged himself on to the sail.

"Now," said my father; "he's big and heavy; Morgan and I will take the
top, you take the bottom, George.  If you could get that boy to
understand, it would be easy."

I took hold of the bottom of the sail and made signs to the boy, but he
could not or would not understand, till the black uttered a guttural
word or two, when he came shrinkingly to my side, and took hold,
watching me the while as if to be aware of danger.

"Now then," said my father, "I don't suppose you two can lift; but if
you ease the load up a little from the ground, that will be all that is
necessary.  Now together, Morgan."

They turned their backs on us as they took a good hold of the sail, and
began to drag our load toward the great barn-like shed at the end of the
house, reaching it without much difficulty, and drawing the sail right
over a quantity of dry corn-stalks.

Here, after giving them some food to eat if they desired it, we left
them and closed the door.

"There, Morgan," said my father, with a smile, as we crossed the garden,
"I am a slave-owner now like my neighbours, and as soon as that man is
well and strong, you will have no excuse for grumbling about the want of
help."



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

I was so curious the next morning to see whether the slaves had run
away, that I crept down soon after daybreak, and a curious feeling of
vexation came over me as I saw that the door of the big shed was open.

"They're gone," I said, and ran back and down to the landing-place, to
see if they had taken to the boat.

But there it was, all safe, and I drew back and stood watching as I
caught sight of a droll-looking object, so busy that he had not noticed
me; for about forty yards away there was the boy, coating himself all
over with the soft yellow mud he scooped up from the stream, where he
stood about up to his knees, rubbing it well, and not forgetting his
woolly head, just as I might have used soap.

The appearance of the boy was so comical that I could hardly keep back a
laugh.  But I refrained, and watched him earnestly at work for a few
minutes, before throwing himself down, and sluicing off the thin mud,
his black skin appearing once more, and ending by diving out into deep
water, and beginning to swim with an ease that I envied.

This went on for about ten minutes, when he came out dripping, gave
himself a shake, and then catching sight of me, ran up the bank and as
hard as he could go for the shed.

I followed, and on reaching it found that the boy was not visible,
having probably hidden himself among the corn-stalks, while his
companion lay sleeping heavily--a great savage-looking black.

I came away without closing the door, thinking of my father's words; and
I'm afraid with something of the same thoughts as I should have had
about some of the wild creatures I had before tried to tame, I began to
long for the coming down of Mrs Morgan to prepare breakfast, meaning to
get from her a good bowl of the Indian corn porridge that she regularly
prepared.

As it happened she was extra early that morning; and as soon as I had
proffered my request, she informed me rather tartly that she knew all
about it, for the master had given her orders the night before.

By the time it was ready and cooling, my father was down.

"That for the blacks?" he said, as he saw the bowl I was taking to the
shed.

"Yes," I said; and I told him about what I had seen.

"Poor fellow!  I am not surprised," he said.  "What can be more horrible
than the way in which they were confined?"

The man was awake, and on our entering the dim shed he made an effort to
rise, but fell back helplessly, and lay gazing at us in a half fierce,
half sullen way, not changing his aspect as my father felt his pulse,
and laid his hand upon his head.

"Hah!  That's better," said my father; "less fever.  If he can eat, it
is only a question of time.  Where is the boy?"

We looked round, but he was invisible.

"Call the boy," said my father, looking hard at the man, and pointing to
the food; but there was no sign of being understood, and my father
turned to me.  "Set the bowl down," he said.  "They will get used to us
in time."

I followed him out, and we went in to our breakfast, where the position
was pretty well discussed.

"Let them be, poor wretches," said my father at last.  "By and by,
perhaps, they will find out that all white people do not mean evil by
them.  It is very unfortunate, and I had made a vow that I would never
have a slave, and here I am with two of my own purchasing."

As soon as I could get away, I hurried off to the shed to hear a quick
rustling sound as I neared the door, and I got to the opening time
enough to see some of the corn-stalks in motion, betraying where the boy
had rushed off to on hearing my steps.

I did not make a rush after him, for fear of making him more wild, but
took up the bowl to find it empty, and I looked at our invalid and
laughed.  But he made no sign, only gazed at me with the same weary
sullen look, and I went away feeling a little disheartened.

"Hullo, Master George, been to see my deppyties?" said Morgan.  "I was
just going to look at 'em.  That big black isn't going to die, is he?"

I turned back with him to the door of the shed, and he stood gazing in.

"No; he won't die this time.  But I don't much like his looks, Master
George.  Seems the sort of fellow to turn ugly and knock me down with
the big hoe, and I shan't like that, nor my wife neither.  Where's young
smutty?"

"Under the corn-stalks in the corner."

"What, hiding?"

"Yes."

"Here, stop a minute till I get the pitchfork; I'll soon turn him out."

"No, no," I cried; "they're to be treated gently."

"And as if they were human beings," said my father's stern voice, for he
had come silently behind us.  "Have the goodness to remember that,
Morgan.  If I am to be a slave-owner, my people shall meet with
consideration, and not be treated as if they were the beasts of the
field.  Do you understand?"

"Oh yes, sir, I understand," said Morgan, good-humouredly; "you can
count on me doing what's right by them.  They can't help the colour of
their skins."

"I am satisfied," said my father, quietly, and he left us staring in
that heavy, sombre face before us--a face full of despair, but one to
which we could not address words of sympathy.

The change that took place in the man day by day was wonderful, as far
as health was concerned.  In three days he was walking slowly about; in
a week he was ready to take the tool in hand which Morgan gave him, and
he went on clumsily with the work he was set to do, but displaying
strength that was the admiration of us all.  But he was moody,
shrinking, and suspicious, and the boy was precisely the same.  For it
always seemed to me that the boy was constantly on the look-out to avoid
a blow or some ill-usage on my part, and his companion to be expecting
it from my father.  The treatment they had been receiving for months had
utterly cowed them, but when they began to realise that they had fallen
among friends, the change was rapid indeed.

Of course they could not understand us, and when they spoke, which was
very seldom, their language was utterly beyond our comprehension; but we
got on pretty well by signs, after a few weeks when the change came.

It was one glorious afternoon, when, after worrying Morgan into getting
me some bait, I prepared my rough lines for fishing, and while I was
disentangling the hooks which had been thrown carelessly together, the
boy who was passing nodded and looked on.

"Going fishing," I said.  "Come with me?"

He looked at me without comprehension, and when I took hold of him by
the arm, he shrank away.

"Oh, I say," I said, "I wish you wouldn't.  Who's going to hit you?
Carry this basket."

I placed one in his hand, and gave him the pot containing the bait in
the other, signed to him to follow, and in a dull, sad way he came
behind to where the boat was moored; but as soon as he saw me step in,
he began to look wildly out into the stream, and to shrink away.

"It's all right," I said, "there's no slaver out there.  Come along."

But he shrank away more and more, with his eyes dilating, and he said a
few words quite fiercely in his own tongue.

"Don't be so stupid," I said, jumping out and securing him just in time
to stop him from running off with my bait and lines.

He struggled for a moment, but ceased, and in a drooping, dejected way
allowed me to lead him to the boat, into which he stepped sadly, and
dropped down in a sitting position, with his legs under him, and his
head bent upon his breast.

"Oh, I say," I cried, "don't do that.  Look here; we are going fishing.
Here, take an oar and row."

I had cast off the boat, and we were floating down the stream as I
placed the oar in his hands, took the other, and in a sad, depressed,
obedient way, he clumsily imitated my actions, rowing steadily if not
ably on.

"There," I said, when we were as far out as I wished to be; "that will
do.  Lay your oar in like that," and I laid down my own.

He obeyed me, and then sat looking at me as mournfully as if I were
going to drown him.

"Oh, I do wish you'd try and take it differently," I said, looking
pleasantly at him the while.  "Now, look here, I'm going to catch a
fish."

As I spoke, I put a large bait on the strong hook I had ready, threw it
over the side, and twisted the stout cord round my hand, while the boy
sat watching me.

"Well, you have got a bit better," I said to him; "the other day you
always wanted to bite.  Do try and come round, because you're not a
slave, after all.  Oh!"

I uttered a yell, as I started up to pay out line, for, as we floated
gently down stream, there was a tremendous tug which cut my hand, and
seemed ready to jerk my arm from out its socket.

But I had so twisted the line that I could not pay it out, and as I
stood, there came another so fierce a tug that I lost my balance, caught
at the boy to save myself, and the light boat careened over, and seemed
to shoot us both out into the river.

For a few moments the water thundered in my ears; the great fish, which
must have been a gar pike, tugged at my hand, broke away, and I was
swimming with the black head of the boy close by me, as we struggled as
quickly as we could to the bank, reached it together, climbed out, and I
dropped down into a sitting position, with my companion staring
wonderingly at me.

His aspect was so comical, and his eyes sought mine in such a wondering
way, as if asking me whether this was the way I went fishing, that I
burst out into an uncontrollable roar of laughter, when, to my utter
astonishment, the sad black face before me began to expand, the eyes to
twinkle, the white teeth to show, and for the first time perhaps for
months the boy laughed as merrily as I did.

Then, all at once, I remembered the boat, which was floating steadily
away down stream toward the big river, and pointing to it, I ran as far
as I could along the bank, and plunged in to swim out and secure it.

There was another plunge and the boy was by my side, and we swam on, he
being ready to leave me behind, being far more active in the water than
I.  But he kept waiting for me, till I pointed on at the boat, and he
seemed to understand, and went on.

The boat had gone into a swift current, and it was a long way from where
I swam, and by degrees I began to find that I had rather miscalculated
my strength.  I was only lightly clad, but my clothes began to feel
heavy, the banks to look a long way off, and the boat as far; while all
at once the thought struck me, after I had been swimming some time, that
I should never be able to reach the boat or the shore.

I tried to get rid of the fancy, but it would not go, and one effect of
that thought was to make me swim more quickly than I should have done,
or, as I should express it, use my limbs more rapidly than I ought, so
that I was quickly growing tired, and at last so utterly worn out that a
cold chill came over me.  I looked despairingly to right and left at the
beautiful tree-hung river-side, and then forward to where the boy had
just reached the boat, and saw him climb in, the sun shining upon his
wet back.

"Hi!  Boy!"  I shouted, "take the oars, and row."

I might as well have held my tongue, for he could not understand a word;
and as I shouted again and again I looked at him despairingly, for he
was sitting on the thwart laughing, with the boat gliding downstream
faster than I seemed to be able to swim, while I knew that I should
never be able to overtake it, and that I was getting deeper in the
water.

"Oh, if I could only make him understand!--if I could only make him
understand!"  I kept thinking, as I shouted again hoarsely; and this
time he did seem to comprehend that something was wrong, for I saw him
jump up and begin making signs to me.  Then he shouted something, and I
saw that he was about to jump in again as if to come to me.

But he stopped, and took up one of the oars, to begin rowing, but of
course only to send the boat round.  Then, as if puzzled, he put the oar
over the other side, and rowed hard like that, to send the boat's head
in the other direction, repeating this again and again, and now standing
up to shout to me.

I could not shout in return, only stare at him wildly, as he kept on
making ineffective efforts to row to me, till all seemed to be over; the
bright water and the beautiful green banks began to grow misty; and I
knew that though I might keep struggling on for a few minutes, I should
never reach the boat, and that he would never be able to row it to me.

I did not feel in much trouble nor get in any great alarm, for I suppose
the severe exertion dulled everything, and robbed my sufferings of their
poignancy as I still swam on more and more slowly, with my starting eyes
fixed upon the boat still many yards away from me, and growing more and
more dim as the water began to bubble about my lips.

All at once in front of me I saw the boy's black figure rise up in the
boat like a shadow.  Then there was a splash and the water flashed up,
and I knew he must be swimming toward me to help me; but I could not see
that he had taken the rope in his teeth, after finding himself unable to
row in my direction, and had essayed to swim to me and tug the boat in
his wake.

This in so swift a stream was impossible, but his brave act saved my
life, for he was able to hold his own by swimming hard till the current
bore me down to him just as I was sinking; and my next recollection is
of feeling myself clutched and my hand being raised to the edge of the
boat, while one arm was about my waist.

The feeling of comparative security brought back my fleeting senses, and
I made a convulsive clutch with the other hand at the gunwale; while the
next thing I remember is feeling myself helped over the side by the boy,
who had climbed in, and lying in the bottom with the sun beating down
upon me--sick almost to death.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

By a wonderfully kindly arrangement of nature we recover very rapidly
when we are young; and before half an hour had passed I was seated on
the thwart, using one of the oars, while the boy was using the other,
but he kept leaving off rowing to gaze earnestly in my face; and when I
smiled at him to show him that I was better, he showed his white teeth,
and even then I could not help thinking what a bright, chubby-looking
face he had, as he plunged his oar in again, and tugged at it, rowing
very clumsily, of course, but helping me to get the boat along till we
reached the rough logs and the stumps which formed our landing-place,
where I was very glad to get ashore and make the boat fast.

"Well, George, how many fish?" cried my father, as I went up to the
house, to find him in the garden trying to direct the big black how to
use his hoe.

"None, father," I said, half hysterically, for I was quite broken down.

"Why, what's the matter?" he said.  "Hallo!  Been in?"

"Yes--been drowned--that boy."

"What!" cried my father, furiously.

"No, no!  He jumped in--saved me--I was going down."

I saw my father close his eyes, and his lips moved as he stood holding
my hand in his, evidently struggling with his emotion.  Then he said
quietly--

"Better go in and get some dry clothes, and--"

He stopped and stood listening and gazing in wonder at the great negro
and my companion, for the boy had gone up to him, and gesticulating
rapidly and with animated face he seemed to be relating what had passed.

The change that came over the big fellow's face was wonderful.  The
minute before it wore its old, hard, darkening look of misery, with the
eyes wild and the forehead all wrinkled and creased; but now as he stood
listening, his eyes lit up, his forehead grew smooth, and his face
seemed to have grown younger; his tightly-drawn-together lips parted,
showing his white teeth.  So that as my father took a step or two
forward, seized the boy's arm, and then laid his hand upon his head, it
was a completely transformed countenance that looked in my father's.
For the man caught his hand, bent down and held it against his forehead,
saying a few words in a low tone, and then drew respectfully away.

"You have had a narrow escape, my boy," said my father, huskily; "but
out of evil sometimes comes good; and it looks as if your accident has
broken the ice.  Those two are completely transformed.  It is just as if
we had been doing them good, instead of their doing good to us.  But
there, get in.  I don't want to have you down with a fever."

My father was right; our two servants--I will not call them slaves, for
they never were that to us--appeared indeed to be quite transformed, and
from that day they always greeted me with a smile, and seemed to be
struggling hard to pick up the words of our language, making, too, the
most rapid progress.  The heavy, hard look had gone from the black's
face, and the boy was always showing his white teeth, and on the
look-out either to do something for me, or to go with me on my
excursions.

In a week it was "Mass' George," and in a month, in a blundering way, he
could begin to express what he had to say, but only to break down and
stamp, ending by bursting into a hearty laugh.

It was my doing that the pair were called Pompey and Hannibal, and day
after day, as I used to be out in the garden, watching the big black,
who had entirely recovered his strength, display how great that strength
was, I wondered how it was possible that the great happy-looking fellow
could be the same dull, morose savage that we had brought dying ashore.

At the end of another couple of months, I went in one day full of a new
discovery.

"Do you know who Pomp is, father?"  I exclaimed.

"Yes; an unfortunate young negro from the west coast of Africa."

"Yes, father, but more than that.  Hannibal has been telling me, and I
think I understand him, though it's rather hard.  They lived in a
village up the country, and the enemy came in the night, and killed
some, and took the rest prisoners to march them down to the coast, and
sell them for slaves.  Pomp's mother was one of them, and she fell down
and died on the march."

"Did Hannibal tell you this?"

"Yes, father, and sat and cried as he told me; and Pompey's his son."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, yes.  He always calls Pompey `my boy,' and Pomp called him `fader'
to-day."

"Ah, but that may merely be imitation."

"I don't think it is," I said, eagerly; and I proved to be right, for
they certainly were father and son.

The winter came and passed rapidly away, and it was never cold to
signify, and with the coming spring all thoughts of the Indians and the
Spaniards died away.

My father would talk about the Indians' visitation sometimes, but he
considered that it was only to see if we were disposed to be enemies,
and likely to attack them; but finding we did not interfere in the
least, and were the most peaceable of neighbours, they were content to
leave us alone.

"And the Spaniards only tried to frighten us away, Morgan," I said one
day.

"Well, I s'pose so, Master George; but you see we're so shut up here we
never know what's going to take place unless a ship puts in.  It's a
very beautiful place, but there isn't a road, you see, that's worth
calling a road.  Ah, there were roads in Carnarvon!"

"I don't believe you'd care to go back to them though, Morgan," I said.

"Well, I hardly know, Master George; you see this place don't 'pear to
agree with our Sarah's temper.  It gets very trying sometimes when it's
hot.  It was very hot this morning, and she was so put out that when
young Pomp put his black head in at the door she threw the big wooden
shovel at him."

"But what for?"

"That's what I said to her, Master George.  `Sarah,' I says, `what had
the poor black boy done to make you throw things at him?'

"`Done,' she says; `didn't you see him put his head round the door and
grin at me?'

"`Well,' I says, `Sarah, my girl, that's only his way of showing that he
likes you.'

"`Then I don't want him to like me, and he's more trouble than he's
worth.'  And there's a lot of truth in that, Master George."

"Why he works hard, Morgan," I said.

"Yes, just so long as you are watching him.  Then he's off to play some
prank or another.  That boy always seems to me as if he must be doing
something he ought not to do."

"Oh, he's a very good boy."

"Never make such a man as his father, my lad.  Humph!  Here he is."

I turned, and there, sure enough, was Pomp making a large display of his
white teeth, and holding something behind so that we should not see.

"What have you got?"  I said.

He drew a basket forward and displayed four good-sized terrapins, and
offered them to Morgan for a present.

"No, no," grumbled the man, "I don't want them, and I'm sure that the
missus would find fault if I took them in.  She hates them; besides, I'm
not going to be sugared over like that, to keep me from speaking out.
Now, look here, you've been fishing."

"Yes, sah.  Kedge de terrupum."

"And I told you to hoe down between those yams, didn't I?"

"Yes, Mass' Morgan, I going to hoe down de yam-yam."

"But why isn't it done?"

"I d'know," said Pomp, innocently.

"You don't know?"

"No, sah, don't know 'tall."

"But I told you to do them," said Morgan, angrily.  "Didn't I?"

"Yes, sah."

"Then why didn't you do them?"

"Wanted to go and kedge terrupum."

"Now, look here, sir, you've got to do what you're told."

"What you tell me, den?"

"I told you to go and hoe those yams, and you neglected the duty to go
fishing."

"Yes, sir, go fishing; kedge terrupum."

"Instead of doing your work."

"Mass' Morgan, sah," began Pomp, in a tone of protest, but Morgan
interrupted him.

"Now then, how is it those yams are not hoed?"

"Don't know, sah.  Tell Hannibal hoe them."

"You told Hannibal to hoe them--your father?"

"Yes, tell um fader hoe um; Mass' Morgan want um done."

"Yes, but I wanted you to do them."

"Yes, sah, and I want um fader to hoe um yam while I go kedge terrupum.
You make big holler at um for not do um."

"Now then, look you, Master George, oughtn't this fellow to be flogged?"

"You say no, Mass' George, and--"

Morgan darted out a hand to catch Pomp's arm, but the boy was too quick,
and dodged behind me.

"Let him be," I said; "he doesn't know any better."

"But I want to teach him better," grumbled Morgan.

"Hist!  Mass' George.  I find great 'gator."

"Where?"  I asked, eagerly, for I had long had an idea that I should
like to see another of the monsters.

"Down by de ribber.  All lay long so, out in de hot sun."

Pomp threw himself on the ground, and wallowed along a little way.  "All
along so, sah, while I done kedge de terrupum, and then all along tell
Mass' George come and shoot um."

"How big was it?"  I said, eagerly.

"Big as ebber so much.  Come on, see um, Mass' George."

"It's only some little one, half as big as the one we pulled out of the
hole," said Morgan.  "You never want to go on them games now you've got
that black chap."

"Oh, I'll go with you any time, if you'll come."

"Too busy, sir, too busy.  Going to get a gun?"

"Yes, I'll go and see.  It may be a big one.  Colonel Preston's man told
me there are some very big ones up the river on the mud-banks."

"Yes, sir, but nobody ever sees them."

"Well, I'll try this time, and if my father asks for me, say where I've
gone."

I heard Morgan mutter something, but paid no heed, knowing that it was
something about being careful with the gun, for I was not without my
share of conceit and belief in my capacity of taking care of a gun.  For
my father had rather encouraged me to practise with his fowling-piece,
as also with one of the heavy fire-locks we had in the house.

"An emergency might come," he said; and what with his instructions and
those of Morgan, I was, if not a good marksman, as fairly expert as
could be expected from a boy of my years.

I soon had the gun from its slings, and, providing myself with powder
and ball, rejoined Pomp, whose eyes rolled with excitement at the sight
of the piece.

"Me carry de powder shot bag," he cried, eagerly; and I let him sling
the pouches over his shoulder, and followed behind him, as he marched
off with head erect, and a look of pride that was ludicrous.  He was, as
a rule, a creature apparently made up of springs, which were always
setting him in motion; but when bound upon any shooting or fishing
excursion the natural pride in his brain rose above everything else, and
I was often turned into quite a secondary personage, and had to obey.

It was so upon this occasion, for just as we reached the edge of the
forest he stopped short, and in a stern whisper said--

"'Top here and load um gun, or wake ole 'gator where um sleep."

I obeyed, of course, ramming home a bullet, and as I was in the act of
removing the rod from the barrel, Pomp suddenly exclaimed--

"Top um bit."

He ran off at full speed, and came back with his eyes flashing, and
flourishing a small axe which he had fetched from the shed.  This he
directly after thrust into his belt, and holding up his hand,
whispered--

"Now, no make noise.  I go first."

He went on, leading me through the drier part of the swamp, and right
away from the river, to my great wonderment; but after walking silently
about half an hour he stopped, again held up his hand, and then with the
greatest of caution crept on through the bushes, and in and out among
the swamp-trees, never making the slightest sound, and I followed as
well as I could for about a quarter of an hour, when he signed to me to
stop, and I knew by the bright light a little farther on that the river
was pretty near.

The next moment he was down flat, crawling slowly over the mossy ground,
looking back to see if I was watching him, and pausing at last close to
a gnarled old tree, which he tried to keep between him and the water.

I had been watching him lying there for about five minutes, when I
became aware of the fact that he was returning as silently as he had
gone, and as he reached me he put his lips to my ear.

"'Gator sleep in de mud.  Mass' George, crawl up to de big tree, look
'long gun, and shoot um."

I was skilled enough then in the huntsman's craft to know what to do,
and divesting myself of hat and boots, I went down and crawled
cautiously in the trail made by the boy, trying hard to go as silently
and with as little effort, but the nervous excitement set my heart
beating, and by the time I reached the great gnarled tree I felt
breathless, and my hands trembled exceedingly.

I lay quite still for a few minutes before venturing to do more, and
then inch by inch I drew myself sidewise, and peered round the rugged
trunk of the tree.

The next moment I was quite paralysed by the surprise I felt, for there,
not twenty feet away from the spot where I lay, was a monstrous
alligator, evidently fast asleep on a glistening mud-bank, his trail
from the water being distinctly marked in the soft mud.  There were the
prints of his paws, and of his long tapering tail, and I could do
nothing but gaze at his great proportions.

As far as I could judge he was about fourteen feet long, but evidently
of great age, from his bulk, his horny hide banded and barred and
corrugated, while the strength of such a beast must be, I knew,
tremendous.

How long I watched the sleeping monster I cannot tell, but it was some
time before I woke up to the fact that I had come on purpose to put an
end to its destructive career, and that I had a gun ready charged in my
hand lying close alongside.

Then with my heart beating fast I slowly pushed the barrel forward,
resting it upon one of the mossy buttresses at the tree-trunk, my eyes
fixed all the time upon the great closed and smiling mouth, and the
peculiar heavily-browed eyes.

As if I were moved by something that was not myself, I gradually got the
gun into position, grasping it firmly and pressing the butt home, while
I carefully sighted the monster, wondering a little what the
consequences would be if I missed, whether I should be attacked, and
whether I should have time to get away.  But directly after every sense
was concentrated upon the task I had in hand, and just as I was about to
draw trigger the creature quickly raised its head, as if suspecting the
nearness of danger.

I was well ready though now, and raised the barrel of my gun slightly,
pressed it against the tree, and fired.

There was the roar of the gun, a tremendous kick on the shoulder, and
beyond the heavy sour-smelling smoke by which I was surrounded I heard a
tremendous splashing and thrashing noise, accompanied by heavy blows, as
if the monster was striking hard at something near.

But I lay perfectly still, feeling that the wounded monster would on
seeing me make a spring, and if it did I knew that my life was at an
end.

The splashings and the dull beating sound continued, but I kept behind
the sheltering tree, now wondering whether the creature would have
strength to get back into the river, or whether it would be there
waiting for its assailant.  At last, fascinated as it were by the desire
to peep round the tree-trunk which sheltered me from my victim, I gently
peered out, and stared in astonishment, for there was Pomp busy at work
with his axe cutting off the reptile's head, while the tail kept
writhing and lashing the stream, alongside which it had nearly crawled.

"Dat's got um," cried Pomp.  "Hi!  Ohey!  Mass' George."

I was already on my legs, and, gun in hand, I parted the bushes, and
joined the boy just as the monster gave a tremendous heave and a writhe,
and rolled off the bank with a tremendous splash in the water.

"Ah, you no kedge fish and eat um no more, eh, Mass' George?" he cried.
"'Gator no good widout um head, eh?"

I looked down on the mud, and there, sure enough, lay the creature's
head.

"Why, Pomp!"  I exclaimed; "what have you been doing?"

"Cut off um head, Mass' George.  He no like dat."

Pomp broke out with one of his laughs, hooked hold of the grinning head,
and dragged it out of the mud up to the side of a clear pool, a little
way back in the swamp.

"Stop a bit," I said; "I want to have a good look at it."

"Wait till I wash um, Mass' George.  No; must wash umself fus.  Here a
mess."

Pomp was about to jump into the pool to wash the mud from his legs, when
he suddenly clapped his hands.

"Oh, here's game, Mass' George; only look.  Dat's ole 'gator's house a
water, where he keep all 'um lil pickaninny.  Look at 'um."

Sure enough, there were five or six small alligators at the far end--
little fellows not very long out of the shell.

"Oh dear!" cried Pomp, "I very sorry for you poor fellows.  Poor old
fader got um head cut off.  What, you no b'lieve um?  Den look dah."

He threw the great head into the pool with a splash, and then jumped in
to stand up to his knees, washing it about till it was free from mud,
and his legs too, when he dragged it out again on to the green moss, and
we proceeded to examine the horrible jaws.

"Him much worse den Pomp."

"What do you mean?"

"Mass' Morgan and de capen say Pomp do lot o' mischuff.  Dat do more
mischuff den Pomp."

"Yes, I should think so," I said, as I examined the dripping head, and
saw plainly that my bullet must have gone right through the monster's
brain, probably only stunning it for the time being, and enough to give
the boy time to hack off its head.  For these creatures have an amount
of vitality that is wonderful, and after injuries that are certain in
the end to prove fatal, contrive to get back into the water and swim
away.

It was a long time before I was satisfied with gazing at the grinning
head, with its great teeth and holes in the upper jaw into which they
seemed to fit as into a sheath.  At last though I turned to the boy.

"We must take it home, Pomp," I said.

"No," he said, with a look of disgust.  "Um quite dead now.  Frow um
into de ribber."

"Oh no!  I want my father to see it, and Morgan."

"We go an' fess um den."

"No, no.  You must carry it home."

"No, too heaby, Mass' George, and um begin to 'tink."

I laughed, for Pomp was beginning to show his natural disinclination for
work, though certainly the hideous head did send forth an unpleasant,
musky odour.  So long as an exciting task was on hand which interested
him, Pomp would work most industriously; but over anything plodding and
approaching drudgery he was laziness itself.

"I frow um in de ribber, or you frow um in, Mass' George."

"Neither," I said.  "It must be carried home."

"What, dat great heaby head?"

"Yes."

"What, all de way fro' de tree?"

"Yes."

"No, no, Mass' George, um too heaby.  Dat kill a poor nigger all dead,
oh!"

"Nonsense!  It is not so heavy as all that."

"Oh, yes; um drefful heaby.  Frow um in."

"But I want my father to see it, and Morgan would like to."

"Eh?  I see."

He ducked down quickly, and lifted the head on to an old stump.  Then,
breaking off a bough of dead wood, he chopped a short piece off and
propped open the huge jaws.

"Dah!" he exclaimed, gleefully.  "Dat make um laugh, and de fly come in
an' out, an' um no snap at um no more."

"But don't I tell you that I want them to see it at home.  Sarah would
like to see it too."

"Eh?  Oh, no, Mass' George," cried Pomp, excitedly, and beginning to
imitate poor Sarah's sharp acid way so accurately that I roared with
laughter.  For every tone of her voice--every gesticulation--was exactly
true to nature.

"`What!'" he cried; "`what you mean, you nast' black young rascal, bring
dat ting in my clean kitchun?  I get hold ob you, I box your ears.  How
dah you--how dah you!  Take um away--take um away!'  Dat what Misses
Sarah say."

"But we will not take it into her clean kitchen, Pomp.  We'll put it on
that pine-stump at the bottom of the garden."

"Oh, no, Mass' George.  Sun shine on um, and de fly come on.  Make um
'mell horrid."

"Oh, that will soon go off," I said.  "Come, let's get back.  Wait till
I've loaded again though.  Here, give me the powder and a bullet.  We
might see something else."

"Eh?"

"I said give me the powder and a bullet.  Halloa!  Where's the
ammunition?"

"Eh?  Now where I put dat amnisham, Mass' George?  I dunno."

"Why, you must have laid it down on the ground when we came after the
alligator."

"Sure I did, Mass' George.  Ah, you are clebber boy.  Come 'long, we
find um we go back."

"No, no, stop.  I want that head carried home."

"But um so heaby, Mass' George, and poor Pomp drefful hot an' tire."

"Dreadful lazy you mean," I cried, angrily.  "Come, sir."

"Now, Mass' George cross again, and goin' break poor lil nigger heart,"
he whimpered.

"Stuff!  Sham!  Lay hold of that head."

"Break um back den, carry dat great heaby thing."

"It will not.  You didn't think it heavy when you dragged it along with
the axe."

"Head all hot den, Mass' George; got cold now."

"Why, you lazy, cunning young rascal!"  I cried; "if you don't pick that
head up directly, and bring it along!"

"Ugh!" ejaculated Pomp, with a shudder; "um so dreffel ugly, Pomp
frighten to deff."

I could not help laughing heartily at his faces, and the excuses he kept
inventing, and he went on--

"Pomp wouldn't mind a bit if de head dry, but um so dreffel wet an'
nasty.  An' you come close here, Mass' George, an' 'mell um.  Ugh!"

He pinched his nose between his fingers, and turned his back on the
monster.

"Now, no nonsense, sir," I said, severely.  "I will have that carried
home."

"For de massa see um, an' Mass' Morgan?"

"Yes," I said.

"Oh!" exclaimed the boy, in a tone which suggested that he at last
understood me; "for de massa and Mass' Morgan see um.  I run home fess
um here."

He was off like a shot, but my voice checked him.

"Stop, sir."

"You call, Mass' George?"

"Come here, you young rascal!"

"Come dah, Mass' George?  No fess um here?" he said, coming slowly
cringing up.

"No, sir.  Now then, no nonsense; take hold of that head."

Pomp stuck the handle of the axe into the band of his short cotton
drawers, wiped a tear out of each eye, and took the hideous great head
off the stump, looking at me reproachfully, as he bent with its weight.

"Is it very heavy?"  I said.

"Kill poor boy carry um all dat way, Mass' George."

I stood the gun up against the nearest tree, and went to him and lifted
the head, to find that it really was a pretty good weight.

"Yes," I said, replacing it on the stump; "it is heavy, Pomp."

"Den I go fess Mass' Bruton here," he cried, joyfully.

"No.  Give me that axe."

He took the little chopper out of his belt, and slowly and shrinkingly
gave me the handle; then dropped on his knees, crossed his hands on his
breast, and lowered his head.

"Don' kill um dis time, Mass' George.  Pomp berry sorry such a lazy
rascal."

"Get up, and don't to stupid," I said, roughly.  "Who's going to kill
you?" and looking round, I had soon found and cut down a stout young
sapling, which I trimmed into a pole, Pomp watching me the while with a
piteous expression on his countenance.

"There," I said, when I had done, and provided myself with a stout pole
about ten feet long.

"Oh!  Ow!" burst forth Pomp in a terrified howl.

"What's the matter now?"  I cried in astonishment.

"Nebber tink Mass' George such coward."

"Eh?  What do you mean?"

"Lil bit do, Mass' George."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Off!"

"Here, what's the matter?  What do you mean?"  I cried, as he threw
himself down on the moss, and kept on drawing up his legs as if in
agony, and kicking them out again like a frog.

"Nebber tink Mass' George such coward."

"I'm not, sir.  Why?"

"Cut great big 'tick like dat to beat poor lil nigger like Pomp."

"Lil nigger like Pomp!"  I cried, mockingly; "why, you're as big as I
am.  Get up, you great tar-coloured stupid."

"No, no, Mass' George; hit um lyem down, please; not hurt so much."

"Get up!"  I shouted; and I poked him in the ribs with the end of the
pole.

"Ow!  Ow!" yelled Pomp at every touch, and the more he shouted the more
I laughed and stirred him up, till he suddenly sat up, drew his knees to
his chest, put his arms round them, and wrinkling his forehead into
lines, he looked up at me pitifully.

"Arn't done nuff yet, Mass' George?" he whimpered.

"Enough?"  I cried.  "Did you think I cut this great pole to whop you?"

"Yes, Mass' George."

"Why, it was to carry the head on, one at each end."

"Oh!" cried Pomp, jumping up as if made of springs, and showing his
teeth; "I knew dat a hall de time."

"You wicked young story-teller," I cried, raising the pole quarter-staff
fashion, and making an offer at him, when Pomp dropped on his knees
again, and raised his hands for mercy.

"Ah, you deserve it," I said; "telling a fib like that."

"Was dat a fib, Mass' George?"

"Yes; you didn't know it all the time."

"No, Mass' George; not till you tell um.  I tought you cut de big 'tick
to whop poor nigger all black and blue."

"Why, how could I?" and I roared with laughter as I looked at his shiny,
ebony skin.

"Dunno, Mass' George.  Hit berry hard, make um bruisum all ober de body,
same as you say when you tumble down--you say make um all black and
blue."

"There, come along," I said; "let's get the thing home.  Phew!  Look at
the flies already."

"Whish--whoosh--whoosh!" cried Pomp, breaking off a bough and sweeping
it round.  "Nebber mind, Mass' George; fly keep on eat lit bit all de
way home; not hab so much a carry."

"But how are we to manage?  Here, you must find some tough cane to lay
the head on."

"I know now," cried Pomp, taking the pole.

"What are you going to do?"  I said.

"Put um down um troat.  So."

As he spoke, he ran the pole through the open jaws and out at the neck,
so that the head was safely swinging in the middle.

"Dah," he said, "now you carry dat end, I carry dis end.  Dat end nice
an' tin for Mass' George."

"Why, you cunning young rascal," I said, "you want me to carry the dirty
wet end, do you?"

Pomp grinned, and broke off some thick leaves to carefully clean the
sullied end, chuckling merrily the while.

"Um was horrid nassy, Mass' George," he said.  "Now all right."

I took up and shouldered the gun, and then seizing one end of the pole,
we marched triumphantly back with our grisly trophy, accompanied by
quite a cloud of flies which kept up a tremendous humming noise.

I went first, and easily found the spot where the ammunition had been
set down by Pomp in his excitement; and after he had thrown the
pouch-straps over his shoulder and I had decided not to load again, as
we were going straight home, we prepared for a fresh start.

"Mass' George like to come dis end?" said Pomp.

"No," I said; "I'll go first;" and we went on till Pomp began to grunt
and shudder.

"What's the matter?"  I said, looking back.

"Poor Pomp get all de 'mell ob de head dis end."

"All right," I said; "it won't hurt you."

"But um do 'tink horrid, Mass' George."

"We'll carry it the other way, side by side, as soon as we get out of
the trees," I said; and we went on a little further, when the boy
uttered a shout.

"What's the matter now?"  I said.

"De fly, Mass' George."

"Never mind the flies," I said; "they will not hurt you."

"But dey do, Mass' George.  Dey keep tink Pomp am de head, and sit on um
and bite lil bit out ob um arm and neck.  Poor nigger hardly got a bit
ob clothes on."

"And a good job too, Pomp," I cried.  "I wish I hadn't.  Phew!  It is
hot!"

After divers changes about, in which I got my fair share of the
nuisance, we reached the house, to find my father at home; and he,
Morgan, and Hannibal came on to meet our triumphant procession.

"Bravo, George!" said my father; "why, that's quite a patriarch.  How
did you manage to kill him?"

"Mass' George shoot um, and Pomp cut um head off," cried the boy,
proudly.

"Yes," I said; "Pomp found him asleep, and fetched me.  Morgan, I want
it on that stump."

"No, no, sir," said Morgan.  "I'll get the hammer and a big spike-nail,
and drive it through the back of the skin into that big tree at the
bottom."

"Capital!"  I cried.

"But it will be a nuisance," said my father.

"Oh no, sir.  It's full in the hot sun, and the flies will clean it.
Before a week's out it will be dry."

Hannibal fetched the short ladder, and held the head, while Morgan drove
in the nail so that the great head with its propped open jaws hung there
grinning at the bottom of the garden; the skin soon shrinking away so
that the head hung as it were by a skin loop; and before a month was
past it was perfectly inoffensive, and had preserved in drying its
natural appearance in a wonderful way.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

Recollections of sunny days in the cotton-fields, with the men and women
cramming the white bursting pods into baskets as they laughed and
chattered together, and every now and then burst into some song or
chorus, their natural light-heartedness making them, if well treated,
forget the bonds from which they suffered.  Of those many days in the
hot glow, where the men were busy with great chopping-knives cutting
down the tall, towering canes ready to be piled high in the mule-carts
and borne off to the crushing-mills.

For as time went on the visit of the slave schooner was repeated again
and again, and the settlers brought more land under cultivation, and the
place grew more busy week by week.

But at home all remained the same, only that by the help of Hannibal our
garden increased in beauty and productiveness to a wonderful extent, and
Pomp and I revelled in the abundance of the fruit.

I used to look at the boy and his father, and wonder how it was possible
for them to have settled down so contentedly.  But they had, and it did
not seem to me that they had a single thought of the past, so light and
easy-going they were.

But I misjudged them, as time proved.

I was merry and lively enough in those days, never happier than when
playing Morgan some trick to arouse his wrath; but I was the perfection
of quietness compared to Pomp, who was more like a monkey in his antics
than a boy; and his father, the morose-looking, gloomy slave that he had
been, seemed to have grown as full of life and fun as his son.

I don't think that there was anything I could have asked that pair that
they would not have done.  If I expressed a wish to have a pair of young
squirrels for pets, they were sure to be obtained, just as the raccoon
was, and the woodchuck.  If I wished to fish, the baits were ready and
the boat cleaned out; while if I told Hannibal I wanted him to come and
row for me, his black face shone with pleasure, and he would toil on in
the hot sun, hour after hour, with the oars, evidently sharing my
delight whenever I caught a fish.

I remember one day when my father had gone across to the settlement on
some business, taking Morgan with him--I think it was to see and select
from some fruit-trees and seeds which had been brought over from the old
country--that I sat in our room, busy over the study which I had
promised to have done by the time of my father's return.

As I sat there I glanced out of the window from time to time to see
Hannibal toiling away with his hoe, in a great perspiration which
glistened in the sun, but evidently supremely happy, as he chattered
away to Pomp, who was also supposed to be working hard, but only at
preserving his position as he squatted on the top of a post with his
arms about his knees, and his hoe laid across his head, perfectly
balanced.

I laughed to myself, and then went on with my work, a piece of Latin
translation, for my father used to say, "There is nothing to prevent you
being a gentleman, my boy, even if we do live out in the wilds."

All at once I heard Sarah's quick step, as she went out of the place,
and directly after she was busy over something.

Carelessly enough I looked up, and saw that she was beating and brushing
my father's uniform, previous to hanging it over a rail, so as to guard
it from decay by exposure to the sun.

I sat looking at the bright scarlet and gold lace, and saw that she had
brought out the cap too.  Then I went on with my work again, finished
it, and with a sigh of satisfaction put all away, thinking that I would
go down to the pool and have a bathe.

The idea seemed good, and I stepped out, thinking what a patient,
industrious, careful woman Sarah was, and seeing that she must have
fetched is the uniform again, and put it away.

I went through the fence into the garden, meaning to make Pomp go with
me, but he was no longer perched on the stump, one of the many left when
the garden was made; and on looking round for Hannibal to ask where the
boy had gone, I found he too had left his work.

"Hasn't finished," I said to myself, for the man's hoe was leaning
against the tree.

Carelessly enough, I strolled on down to the bottom of the garden,
looking at the alligator's great grinning jaws as I went by, and out at
the end, to see if the pair were in the little hut that had been built
for their use, and a laugh which I heard as I drew nearer told me that I
was right as far as Hannibal was concerned, while a few excited words
which I could not make out proved that Pomp was there as well.

"What are they doing?"  I thought to myself; and with the idea of giving
them a surprise, I did not go up to the door, but turned off, walked
round to the back, and parting the trees by whose leaves the place was
shadowed, I reached the little square window at the rear of the house,
and stood looking in, hardly knowing which to do--be furiously angry, or
burst out laughing.

For the moment I did neither, but stood gazing in unseen.  There to my
left was Pomp, both his eyes twinkling with delight, squatting on the
floor, and holding his knees, his favourite attitude, while his thick
lips were drawn back from his milky-white teeth, from between which came
a low, half-hissing, half-humming noise evidently indicative of his
satisfaction, and in its way resembling the purring of a cat.

To my right, slowly walking up and down, with a grave display of dignity
that was most ludicrous, was Hannibal, his head erect, eyes very wide
open, and arms held firmly to his sides, a position that he must have
imitated from seeing some of the drilling preparations going on at the
settlement, and kept up ever since the scare produced by the coming of
the Indians and the Spaniards.

The reason for this attitudinising and parading was plain the moment I
appeared at the window and grasped the situation; for it was clear
enough--Pomp had seen the gay uniform airing upon the rail, had annexed
it, and carried it off to the hut, probably with his father as an
abettor, in what could only have been meant for a loan; and he had
followed the boy in, and possibly with his assistance put on the
clothes, which fitted him fairly well; but his appearance was not
perfect.

For there over the white-faced scarlet coat was the shiny black face,
surmounted by the military cap worn wrong way foremost, while the
breeches were unbuttoned at the knee, and the leggings were not there,
only Hannibal's black legs, and below them his dusty toes, which spread
out far from each other, and worked about in a way most absurd.

But the most absurd thing of all was the aspect of satisfied dignity in
the man's countenance.  It was as if he were supremely happy and
contented with himself, the clothes having evidently raised him
enormously in his own estimation.

"Now what shall I do?"  I thought; "go in and scold them both, or wait
and see if they put the things back?"

I was still hesitating and thinking how angry my father would be, when I
found suddenly that there would be no need for me to speak and upset the
equanimity of the happy pair, for all at once I heard a loud exclamation
from the direction of the house, where Sarah had just come out to fetch
in the uniform; and directly after, she jumped at the right conclusion,
and made the place echo with the cry of "Pompey!"

The effect was wondrous.

The boy seemed for the moment turned to stone; his jaw fell, and he
stared at his father, whose face seemed to grow ashy, and from whose
aspect all the dignity had vanished in an instant.

Then, quick as some wild animal, Pomp sprang at his father, the shock
with which he struck him in the chest causing the hat to fall off back
on to the floor as he tore at the buttons to get the coat off.

Hannibal, with his fingers shaking and twitching, helped all he could,
and hindered more, while I stood smothering my laughter and waiting to
see the end of the comedy.

Those garments were dragged off doubtlessly much more quickly than they
were put on, and as soon as they were huddled together, father and son
stood listening to Sarah's voice, their eyes starting, and the
perspiration standing in great drops upon their faces.

"What will they do next?"  I said to myself.

Apparently they had no plans, for Hannibal looked reproachfully at his
son and shook his head at him, his lips moving, and in a low, husky
voice he said--

"Whatebber will I do!"

A way out of the difficulty seemed to come to the younger black, for he
suddenly darted at the hat, picked it up, and dabbed it down on the
bundle of white and scarlet clothes.  Then, whispering a few words to
his father--who seemed to be hanging back but to give way at last--the
boy ran to the door, dropped down on all fours so as to be hidden by the
trees from the house, and glided off almost as rapidly as some
four-legged animal.

"The young coward, to run away like that," I said to myself, as another
loud cry of "Pompey, Pompey!  Where are you?" came from the front of the
house.

"Poor old Hannibal!"  I thought to myself, as I saw the utterly cowed
object before me, so strangely contrasted with the dignified being a
short time back in uniform, that I could hardly restrain my merriment.

But I did not laugh out, for I was sorry for the poor fellow, and tried
to think of some way of extricating him from his difficulty, as he stood
there with the uniform huddled up in his arms.

Somehow no idea came, only a feeling of anger against the cowardly young
scoundrel of a boy, who had left his father in the lurch.

"If it was only he," I said to myself, "I'd glory in seeing old Sarah
pull his ears, a mischievous young dog!"

But there was Hannibal before me, and whenever I looked in the poor
fellow's face I never could help a feeling of respectful liking for the
unhappy slave whom I had seen lying half dead upon the bank of the
stream when we first brought him ashore.

Then with Sarah's voice still heard at intervals raging and storming, I
strove to think of a plan to get the poor fellow out of his hobble,
while at the same time, in a confused way, the scene on the bank kept
coming back, and with it thoughts of how the boy had been ready to fight
for his father then, while now he had taken to his heels and fled.

"I don't know what to do," I said at last to myself, as I felt that our
civilising had spoiled Pomp.  "To go and talk to her, and tell her not
to make a fuss."

"Pompey!  Pompey!" rang out from close by now, and Hannibal let fall the
uniform, and clasped his hands.

It was evident that Sarah was coming to see if the boy was in the hut,
and there was nothing for it but to bear the blame.

"Pompey!  Do you hear me?"

"A--y--ou," came from right the other side of the house.  "You call a
me, missie Sarah?"

"Oh, there you are, are you?" she cried; and as I peeped through the
trees, I saw her turn sharply round and hurry back, talking volubly the
while.  Then she called again--

"Pompey!"

"Yes, missie."

"Come here, sir."

"You call a me, missie?"

"Yes, you know I called you.  Where are you?"

"Hey--oh--hi--ho!  Hey oh--hi oh!  Ally olly hi--oh--olly olly hi!" came
in musical tones from the other side of the house; and as I peeped once
more through the windows I saw Hannibal's bent back, as he stooped and
picked up the clothes, brushed off some dust, and then with them held
all ready and his face working with excitement, he crept to the door.

"Pompey, do you hear me?" cried Sarah, who was gone up now to the house.

"Hey--oh--hi--oh!  Yes, missie, you call a me?" came from a little
farther away.

"Do you hear what I say, sir?"

"Yes, missie."

"Then come here directly."

"Ole massa go along, an' Massa George a 'top alonga."

"Pompey!"

"Yes, missie; you call a me?"

"Oh!" cried Sarah, fiercely, "just wait till I get hold of you, sir;"
and she ran off down the path at the other side of the house, shouting
for the boy, who kept on answering, and, as I realised now, purposely
leading her farther and farther away to give his father time.

For, stooping low down, and with wonderful speed and agility, Hannibal,
who had crept out of the hut, suddenly darted into and down the garden,
and as I followed, keeping well hidden among the trees, I saw him reach
the front of the house, shake out the uniform, hang coat and breeches on
the rail, stick the cap on the end, and dart off away in another
direction, so to reach the path leading into the forest on the way to
the stream.

I ached with my efforts to keep down my laughter, as I saw him scud off,
glad at heart though, all the same, for, poor fellow, he had escaped.
Then all at once my admiration for Pomp increased to a wonderful degree,
for I heard a howl from the other side of the house, the sound of blows,
heavy ones too; and as Pomp shrieked and howled, it was evident that
Sarah was cuffing him tremendously.

Her voice grew louder every moment, so did Pomp's cries and
protestations, till I could hear every word from my hiding-place,
thoroughly enjoying of course the punishment that had fallen on the boy,
while delighted by his ruse to get the clothes back and save his father.

"Oh don't, missie; don't whop a poor lil nigger," came loudly.

"You mischievous--(_bang_!)--young--(_bang_!)--Where are those clothes?"

"No, haven't got 'em, missie; no, haven't got 'em.  Oh! _oh_!  Oh!"

"Don't tell me your wicked stories, sir.  Tell me this moment, or master
shall know, and you shall be flogged.  You have stolen them away."

"No, no, missie, Pompey nebber 'teal, no, nebber; wouldn't 'teal
notin'."

"You--(_bang_!)--have taken--(_bang_!)--those clothes away.  Where are
they, sir?"

"Oh, don't whip lil nigger, missie.  No got no clothes on'y lil cotton
drawers, an' lil shirtums," howled Pomp, as he was dragged into sight
now, Sarah holding on tightly by one of his ears.

"And I say you have got them, sir.  Nobody else could have taken them,"
cried Sarah.  "You wicked black magpie, you!  Show me this instant where
you have put them, or I don't know what I won't do."

I knew what was coming; it was all plain enough.  But no, not quite all;
but I did see the _denouement_ to some extent, for, as Sarah dragged the
boy forward, I could contain myself no longer.

"Oh don't, missie!" howled the young dog.

"Oh, but I will," cried Sarah.  "I put poor master's uniform on that
rail to air, and--_Well_!"

"Ha--ha--ha--ha--ha!"

I never laughed louder in my life, as I burst forth into quite a yell,
for there stood poor Sarah, with her mouth wide open, staring at the
uniform hanging on the rail, and then at Pomp, who looked up at her with
his face screwed up in mock agony, but his eyes twinkling with delight.

"Was dem a clothes you gone lose, missie?" he said, innocently; and
Sarah panted and looked is my direction.  "Dat Massa George brass out
alarfin for you whip poor lil nigger nuffin tall."

"Oh--oh--oh!" burst forth Sarah at last, hysterically; "it's a shame--a
cruel shame, Master George, to play me such a good-for-nothing trick."

I ceased laughing directly, and my mouth opened now with astonishment at
the turn things had taken.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, sir," cried Sarah; "and here have
I been ill-using this poor boy because--Oh, Pompey, Pompey, Pompey!"

She caught him in her arms and gave him a motherly hug, while I stood
amongst the trees speechless.

"Missie cry her eyes cos she whip Pompey?"

"Yes, my poor boy," cried Sarah.  "But his father shall know.  Ah, you
may well stop in hiding, sir; it's a shame."  Then, ever so much louder,
"It's a shame!"

"Don't 'cold Massa George, missie," said Pompey.  "Him nebber do
nuffin."

"Do nothing, indeed!" cried Sarah.  "You come along in with me, and I'm
very, very sorry I whipped you."

"Pompey done mind, missie," said the boy, showing his teeth.

"There, you're a very good, forgiving boy," said Sarah, as she caught up
the uniform to take it in; "and I wish I could forgive myself."

Then, catching Pomp by the arm, she led him into the house, from which
he soon after returned with a corn-cake and half a pot of prime jam of
Sarah's own make.

And there I stood all the time thinking seriously among the trees, and
unable to make up my mind what to do.  If I did not speak, I should bear
the blame, and Sarah would remain angry with me.  If I told all, poor
Hannibal, who had been led into the indulgence in a bit of vanity by his
boy, would be in disgrace, and I knew that the poor fellow would feel it
keenly.  If I did not tell all, that young rascal would triumph in his
cunning and deceit, and enjoy letting me have the credit of playing the
trick on Sarah.

"I will tell," I said, sharply, as I saw Pomp come out licking his thick
lips, and enjoying the jam.

Then I thought of how patiently he had borne Sarah's blows, so as to
save his father from getting into disgrace, and that disarmed me again;
so that my mind see-sawed about in the most tiresome way, till I gave up
in despair, coming to no conclusion, and leaving the matter to settle
itself, but determined to give Master Pomp a good thrashing soon, so as
to get some satisfaction out of the affair.

"Pomp," I said, half aloud, "Pomp.  Yes, I called him Pomp; and after
what I saw in the hut I ought to call old Hannibal Vanity.  So I will--
Pomp and Vanity.  I wish I could make up my mind what to do."

I had something else to think of the next moment, for I heard a shout,
and Hannibal himself came running along the path from the stream.

"Hi--hi--Mass' George!" he shouted, breathlessly.

"What's the matter?"  I said, running towards the house to get a gun.
"Here, quick, come in here."

I strained my eyes as I ran, expecting to see Indians in pursuit of him,
but he alone was visible, and he pointed, breathless and panting, in the
direction from which he came.

"What is it?"  I cried.  "What's the matter?"

The answer came in a peculiar, low, hissing, rushing sound, as if a
storm were coming through the forest.  It ceased directly, and died away
in a low, dull roar.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

"Here, what's the matter?"  I cried; and at that moment Sarah came
running out again, looking inquiringly from one to the other.

"What was that noise?" she said.

"De ribber--de ribber," panted Hannibal.  Then he tried to say more, but
he was so excited that his command of English failed him, and he turned
to Pomp, who had just come back from the hut, and said something to him
volubly in his own tongue.  Pomp's mouth opened wide, and he stared
wildly at his father.  Then turning to me, he caught hold of my arm.

"Come, get up the tree, Mass' George.  Pull missie up the tree."

"What for?  What's the matter?"  I said, as the dull roaring seemed to
be coming back.

"Ribber run all ober; water take away de boat, and all gone."

"River running over?  What do you mean--a flood?"

"Yes, dat's flood.  Come, get up a tree."

"Oh, nonsense!  Come and see."

"No, no, Mass' George, mustn't go," cried Pomp, seizing my arm, and I
was making for the path leading to the stream.  "Hark!  Hear dat?"

I certainly did hear a low, ominous roar rising and falling in the air,
but it sounded like distant thunder dying away.  I began to be startled
now, for the look of dread in Hannibal's features was not without its
effect upon me.  Just then Pomp began to drag Sarah toward the biggest
cypress about the place, chattering to her excitedly the while.

"No, no, I can't; my good boy, no," she cried.  "What!  Get up the tree?
Oh, nonsense!  Here, Master George, my dear boy, what does it all
mean?"

"I don't know.  I'm as puzzled as you are, but it means that we're going
to have a flood.  I wish my father was here."

"Look here, Pomp," I said; "we need not climb a tree; it's a great
chance if the water reaches as high as the garden;" and I looked round,
thinking how wise my father had been to select this spot, which was the
only rising bit of ground near, though he had not chosen it on account
of fears of flood, but so as to be well above the swamp damp and mists.

Hannibal said something excitedly to his son.

"Yes; climb up a tree, Mass' George.  Big water come roll down, wash um
all away.  Ah!  Make um hase, Mass' George."  He seized me by the arm,
and pushed me toward the tree, which was about a hundred feet away down
the slope at the back, but almost instantaneously a wave of water came
washing and sighing through the forest slowly but surely, and lapped
onward as it swept out from the forest line at a rate which, deliberate
as it seemed, was sufficient for it to reach the big cypress before we
could; and I stopped short appalled and looked round for a place of
refuge.

The water came on, and in another minute would have been up to where we
stood, but it shrank back again toward the forest, and I felt that the
danger was over, when to my great delight I heard a shout, the splashing
of some one running through water, and my father came into sight to run
up the slope to the place where we stood, closely followed by Morgan,
and both at first too much exhausted to speak.

"Thank God!" he cried at last.  "Don't speak.  Flood.  The settlement
deep in water.  Rising fast.  The boat?"

"Wash away, massa," cried Pomp.

"Ah!" cried my father, despairingly.  "Quick, all of you.  It is coming
now."

As he spoke I heard the deep roar increasing, and after a glance round,
my father pointed to the tree.

"We must get up into that.  No: too late."

For the flood came in a great, smooth, swelling wave out from the edge
of the forest, and then glided toward us, rising rapidly up the slope.

"I'm with you," cried my father, and catching Sarah by the hand, he
dragged her into the house, seized the rough ladder, and made her climb
up silent and trembling into the loft, where, before we could join her,
the water was over the doorsteps and had risen to our knees.

But the moment Sarah was in the loft, my father ordered Pomp and me to
follow, then Hannibal and Morgan, coming up last himself, by which time
the water was up to his waist.

As soon as he was in the little low loft, my father forced out the
wooden bars across one of the windows and looked out, to take in the
extent of our danger, and I pressed close to his side.

"Is there any danger?"  I said, rather huskily.

"I hope not, my boy," he said, sadly.  "The question is whether the
house will be swept right away.  Everything depends upon whether it
comes with a fierce rash, or rises slowly."

I looked round and could see that the flood kept coming in little swells
or waves from the edge of the forest, the water rushing out from among
the tall trunks, and then seeming to undulate gently toward the house.
The garden was covered deeply, and where I had been accustomed to look
at the pleasant sand-walks, and the young fruit-trees, all was now
water, out of which rose the tops of trees here and there.

The thatched roof of the blacks' hut was just visible as a grey point
seen amongst the tree-tops, and all at once I saw it rise up high out of
the water and then settle down again and float slowly away.

At that moment my father uttered a low sigh, and then there was another
loud dull roar, and a great wave came rolling out of the edge of the
forest, swelling onward, the tops of the trees bending towards us as it
came on and on slowly, but with a force that bore all before it, and I
felt my father's hand clasp mine in his.

"Quick!" he whispered; "climb out, and get on the ridge of the roof."

"Are you coming too, father?"  I said.

"Out, quick!" he answered, but before I was clear of the window, he had
hold of me and half drew me back, holding to me tightly, and not without
need, for there was a dull thud, the house quivered from the tremendous
blow, and I felt the water leap over me, deluging me from head to foot,
and making me gasp for breath as I struggled to get back.

"Quiet!" said my father, sternly, and I remained still, expecting to
feel the house swept away, to go floating like the roof of the hut,
right away.

But it stood firm, the wave gliding off, but leaving the water now
rippling up between the boards, telling that the lower floor was filled,
and the flood rising through the ceiling.

An anxious ten minutes ensued, during which wave after wave came rolling
out of the forest, each to deliver a heavy blow at our house, making the
roof crack, but never yield, and with the last came so great an influx
of water that our position rapidly began to grow untenable.

My father made no effort to induce me to climb up after the first wave
struck us, till the water had risen well up into the loft, when he said
quietly--

"Up with you, Morgan, on to the ridge."

"Begging your pardon, sir, I--"

"Silence, sir!  Out and up with you, and be ready to take your wife's
hands."

It was the officer spoke then, and Morgan crept out through the rough
dormer window, and directly after shouted briefly--

"Ready."

"Now, Sarah, my good woman, be brave and firm; creep out here," said my
father.  "Don't think about the water, and grasp your husband's hands at
once."

I heard Sarah give a deep sigh, and she caught at and pressed my
shoulder as she passed; then with an activity I should not have expected
of her, she crept out of the window, my father holding her dress
tightly; there was a loud scrambling sound heard above the hissing and
roaring of the water, and my father spoke again.

"Safe!" he muttered.  Then aloud, "Now, boys--both of you--up, and on to
the ridge."

"You first, Pomp," I said; and the boy scrambled out, and I followed,
the task being, of course, mere play to us as we crept up the
well-timbered roof, and got outside of the ridge-pole.

We had not been there a minute before Hannibal and my father were beside
us, and the waste of water all around.

"Not much too soon," said my father, cheerfully.  "Do you see, George?"

"Yes, father," I said, feeling rather white, or as I suppose any one
would feel if he were white, for the water was level now with the bottom
of the window; "will it rise higher?"

"I am afraid so," he said, gravely, as he looked sharply round at the
various trees standing out of the water.  "Yes," he continued, with the
firmness of one who has made his decision; "Morgan, you swim well, and
the current sets in the right direction.  If the house gives way--"

"Oh, but it won't, sir; we made it too strong for that."

"Then if the water compels us to leave here, do you think you can
support your wife to that tree, if I swim beside and help you?"

"I will support her there, sir," said Morgan, firmly.

"That's right.  Hannibal, you can easily reach there?"

"Yes, sah."

"And you boys can, of course.  We may have to take to that tree, for I
think it will stand."

We all declared our ability to reach the new refuge, and Pomp gave me a
nod and a smile, for it was the tree we had before meant to reach; and
then we sat there awe-struck, and wondering whether the house would give
way, and be swept from its position.

But now no fresh waves came rolling out of the forest, only a current
swept gently past, and after a long silence my father said--

"Yes, that must be it.  A terrible series of storms must have been
occurring, hundreds, perhaps a thousand miles away up in the highlands
and mountains, gathering force, till a flood has swept down to here like
a series of huge waves passing down the rivers, and flooding all their
banks.  The first violence has passed, and I think we may hope that the
waters will go down as rapidly as they rose."

But his words did not seem likely to prove correct, for as we sat there,
with evening creeping on, it was plain to see that the water was still
rising--very slowly, but creeping steadily on.  At first it was only
level with the dormer window; then by slow degrees it was half way up;
and as darkness was coming on, the top of the window was nearly reached.

The roof was high in pitch, so that we were well out of the reach of the
cold current as yet; but calculating by the rate of advance, it was
plain that before many hours had passed the water would have risen to
us; and the question my father had to ask us all was, whether we should
stay there in the hope that at any time the highest point of the flood
might have been reached, or try and swim at once to the great cypress,
and take refuge among its boughs.

"What do you say, Morgan?" said my father at last.  "Shall we go or
stay?"

"Don't know what to say, sir.  We are dry now, but if we swim to the
tree we shall all be drenched, except these two blacks, and they can
easily wring out their things.  Then it means sitting in our wet clothes
half perished through the night.  I don't so much mind, but it would be
terrible for her."

"Don't study me, sir, please," said Sarah, firmly.  "Do what is for the
best."

"I think what you say is right, Morgan.  We can but swim to the tree
when the water rises too high for us to stay here longer."

"But you don't really think it'll get any higher, sir, do you?"

"I am afraid to say what I think," replied my father.  "We are in a vast
continent whose rivers are enormous.  You see the water is still
rising."

"Oh yes, sir, it's still rising," grumbled Morgan; "but I wish it would
keep still.  Going to stop or go, sir?  If we go it had better be at
once."

"We will stay," said my father; and as terrible a vigil as ever poor
creatures kept commenced.

Fortunately for us the night was glorious, and as the last gleam of
daylight passed away, the great stars came out rapidly, till the
darkened heavens were one blaze of splendour, while the scene was made
more grand by the glittering being reflected from the calm surface of
the waters all around, till we seemed to be sitting there in the midst
of a sea of gold, with blackened figures standing up dotted here and
there, and beyond them the dark line of the forest.

The silence for a time was awful, for the current now ran very slowly,
and the rise of the water was so insidious that it could hardly be
perceived.

From time to time my father tried to raise our spirits by speaking
hopefully and prayerfully of our position, but it was hard work to raise
the spirits of poor creatures in so perilous a strait, and after a time
he became silent, and we all sat wondering, and bending down to feel if
the water was still rising.

Then all at once a curious thrill of horror ran through me, for the
hideous bellow of an alligator was heard, and Morgan's hand went
involuntarily to his pocket.

"Got knives, everybody?" he said.  "Don't want them cowardly beasts to
tackle us now."

"It is hardly likely," said my father, but at that moment as he spoke
Pomp touched my arm.

"Dah 'gator!" he said, pointing.

I could see nothing, only that there was a broken lustre of the stars
reflected on the water; and if it was one of the monsters it slowly
glided away.

Then it began to grow colder and colder, and as I sat and gazed before
me, the dark trees standing above the flood grew misty, and a pleasant
sensation was stealing over me, when I felt my arm grasped tightly, and
I gave quite a jump.

"No, no, my boy!" said my father, sternly.  "You must not give way to
that."

"I--I--" I faltered.

"You were dropping off to sleep," said my father, firmly.  "You must
master the desire.  Hannibal, take care that Pomp does not go to sleep."

"Him sleep long time, sah," said the black.  "Wake um up?"

"No; let him sleep; only keep watch over him, or he may slide into the
water."

There was silence again, only broken by a low sigh or two from Sarah, to
whom Morgan muttered something again and again as the time crawled
slowly on and the waters still rose higher and higher toward our feet.

Never did the night seem so long before, and the only relief I had in my
wearisome position was derived from the efforts I had to make from time
to time to master the terrible feeling of drowsiness which would keep
coming on.

Every now and then there was a little buzz of conversation, and I made
out that my father asked every one's opinion, and made all try to make
out how much higher the water had risen, so as to excite their interest,
though it was all plain enough.

And so the night wore on, with the flood gliding up and up, and strange
splashings and bellowings heard from time to time, now far off, now
nearer, and every eye was strained to see if the creatures that made
these noises were appearing.

Then all was silent again, and we waited, with the water still rising.

All at once I caught at my father's arm.

"What's that?"  I whispered, in awe-stricken tones, for there was a
curious quivering thrill in the timbers of the house, and it felt to me
as if it was at last yielding to the presence of the water, and
preparing to break up and float away.

My father did not answer for a few moments, and I knew that he was
listening intently.

"I am not sure," he said at last.  "I think--and hope--that it was
something heavy swept against the house, and that it has passed on."

The alarm died out, and we sat either in silence or talking together of
the state of affairs at the settlement, and the possibility of help
coming in the shape of boats at daybreak, when Pomp's sharp voice
suddenly rang out--

"Hi!  Who did dat?  Who pour cole water on nigger leg?"

In spite of the cold and misery and peril of my position, I could not
help laughing heartily as I heard Hannibal speaking angrily.

Pomp retorted just as sharply, but though his father spoke in their West
African tongue the boy replied in his broken English, to which he was
daily becoming more accustomed, while his father acquired it far more
slowly.

"How I know?" cried Pomp, irritably.  "I tought Mass' George play trick.
Hi!  Mass' George, you dah?"

"Yes," I said.  "What is it?"

"You got anyfing to eat?  I so dreffle hungry."

"No, Pomp," I replied, sadly; "nothing at all."

"You been sleep, sah?" he continued, turning to my father.

"No, my lad, no," replied my father, good-humouredly, and I heard the
boy yawn loudly.

There was no need to measure the water now, or to be in doubt as to
whether it was rising, for it had wetted our feet as we sat astride, or
eased the position by sitting in the ordinary way.  But the stars still
shone, and the night dragged its slow way on.

"Will morning never come?"  I said, despairingly to my father at last.
"Oh, I am so--so sleepy."

He took my hand and pressed it.  "Try and bear it all like a man, my
boy," he whispered.  "There is a woman with us, and you have not heard
her make a single complaint."

"No; it was very selfish and cowardly of me, father," I whispered back,
"and I will try."

I did, and I conquered, for I know that not a single complaint
afterwards escaped my lips.

And higher still rose the black, gold-spangled water over our ankles,
creeping chilly and numbing up our legs, and we knew that before long
the effort would have to be made to reach the great black mound of
boughs which we could dimly see a short distance away.

"How far do you think it is from daybreak, Morgan?" said my father
suddenly, after what seemed to me a terrible time of suspense.

"Don't know, sir.  Daren't guess at it," said Morgan, despondently.
"Time has gone so slowly that it may be hours off yet."

"No," said my father, "it cannot be very far away.  If I could feel sure
I would still wait before making our attempt, but I am afraid to wait
long.  We are getting chilled and numb."

"Just so, sir," said Morgan, sadly.  "You think for us all, sir, and
give your orders.  I'll do my best."

There was another pause, and I heard my father draw a deep breath, and
then speak sharply--

"Well, George," he said; "how do you feel for your swim?"

I tried to answer, but a feeling of despair choked me, as I looked
across at the dark boughs, thought of the depth of water between, and
that I could not swim there now.

"Oh, come, come, lad, pick up," cried my father.  "The distance is
nothing.  I shall want you to help me."

"Yes, father," I said, despondently; and I heard him draw a deep,
catching breath.

But he knew that on him lay the task of saving us all, and he said
cheerfully--

"You can easily swim that, Hannibal?"

"Yes, sah," said the black, quietly.

"And you, Pompey?"

"Eh, massa?  Swim dat?  Yes, Pomp swim all dat, sah."

"We shall be forced to start directly," said my father.  "Do you hear,
Morgan?  We must not wait to be floated off."

"No, sir," replied Morgan; and his voice sounded sad and grave, and a
low sigh came from by his side.  Then arose in a low voice--

"Master George, dear, could you get here?"

"Yes," I said, trying to stir myself; and, catching hold of my father's
hand, I stood up with a foot on each side of the ridge, stiff, cramped,
and with the water streaming from me.

"That's right," said my father, cheerfully.  "Mind how you go, my lad.
It will stretch your legs.  Take hold of Hannibal; don't slip and get a
ducking."

He said all this cheerily, and I knew it was to encourage us all; but as
I passed by him, stepping right over his legs, he whispered, "Speak
cheerily to the poor woman."

"Yes, father," I whispered back.

"Don't keep him, Sarah," said my father.  "I want to come there myself;
I shall swim by your other side."

She did not answer, and I crept by Hannibal and then over Pomp, who gave
me a hug, his teeth chattering as he said--

"Oh, I say, Mass' George, I so dreffle cold.  Water right up a-top."

The next moment I was seated again on the ridge, feeling that the water
really was right up to the top, as Sarah's cold arms closed round me,
and her wet face was pressed to mine as she kissed me.

"Good-bye; God bless you, my darling!"

"Don't, don't talk like that," I said.  "We'll all mount the tree, and
the water will go down."

A piteous, despairing sigh came into my ear, and I felt Morgan's hand
seek mine, and give me what I knew was meant for a farewell grip.

A bad preparation for a swim to save one's life, and the chill of the
rising water began now to increase as I fancied it made a leap at us, as
if to snatch us off and bear us away to the far-off dark shores beyond
which there was a newer life.

"Come, George, my lad.  Back with you," cried my father; "I want to come
there.  Be ready every one; we must start in a few minutes."

"Yes, father," I said; and I was on my way back, passing Pomp, who began
to follow me, and together we crept, splashing through the water,
holding tight by Hannibal, and then by my father.

"You too, my lad?" he said, kindly.

"Yes, massa," replied Pomp.

"Swim steadily, both of you.  The distance is very short, and there is
nothing to mind."  Then as if to himself--"Oh, if I could only tell when
morning would come!"

"Massa want know when time to get up to go to work?" said Pomp, sharply.

"Yes."

"Oh, quite soon, sah.  Sun come up dreckly, and warm poor little nigger;
I so dreffle cold."

"How do you know?" cried my father, clinging as it were like a drowning
man to a straw of hope.

"Oh, Pomp know, sah.  Dah!  You ope bofe ear, and listum to lil bird.
Dat him.  Lil blackum yallow bird, go _pinkum-winkum-wee_."

A dead silence fell upon us, and what had been inaudible to me, but
quite plain to the boy, came faintly from the distance--the twittering
cry of a bird in one of the trees at the edge of the forest; and
directly after it was answered from far away, and I felt my father's
cold wet hand grasp mine as he exclaimed hoarsely--"Thank God."

I could hear him breathing hard, and the tears ran down my cheeks as my
head rested on his breast, and I clung to him for a few seconds.

Then he drew another deep breath, and his voice and manner were entirely
changed, as he cried out--

"Do you hear, Morgan?  Daybreak in a few minutes, and the sun before
long.  I think we could hold out here for an hour at a pinch.  We shall
have our swim long before that, and with heaven's good light to help us
safely there."

"Hurrah!" shouted Morgan, hoarsely.  And then we all joined in a hearty
cheer, while the cry of the bird rang out directly after from close at
hand.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

Black night comes quickly down there in the south, with but little of
the twilight of the north, and after the night's dark reign there is but
a short dawn before the sun springs up to shed hope and light, and the
bright thoughts of a new day.

And now, with the blood seeming to flow more swiftly through our chilled
frames, came the pipings and twitterings of the birds at the edge of the
forest; there was a misty light, then a roseate flush overhead which
rapidly changed to orange above and below.  The black mirror spangled
with diamonds and gold had gone, and as we sat there with the water
lapping now over the ridge, which was quite invisible, the sun's edge
rose over the forest, glorifying the tops of the trees, and the great
green cypress stood up with golden gleams darting through it, and
offering us an inviting refuge from the peril in which we were placed.

"Now, Morgan, ready?" said my father, as he stood up and shook his
limbs.

"Yes, sir, ready.  Cheer up, old lass; we'll soon get you there."

I caught a glimpse of Sarah's white despairing face, but my attention
was taken up directly by my father's words.

"Come, Pompey, brave lad, jump in and swim across to the big tree, and
show us the way."

"Iss, massa," cried the boy; and he started up and dived in plump, to
disappear, and then his black head popped up.  "Come 'long, Mass'
George," he cried; "so lubbly warm."

"Yes; in with you!" cried my father; and I rose, hesitated a moment, and
then plunged in, to find that by comparison with the air the water was
quite warm.

"I dab fuss," cried Pompey, and he swam on to soon reach one of the
boughs, and turn round to wait for me.

I did not keep him long; and as soon as we had seated ourselves astride
of the great branch just level with the water, we stayed to watch the
coming of the rest.

That little swim after the effort required to make the first plunge was
simplicity itself to us boys; and consequently I looked almost
wonderingly at the effort it caused my father and Morgan to get across
with Sarah, whom they supported between them.

They started well, swimming of course abreast, and with Hannibal coming
behind, but after a time they began to get deeper in the water, and to
be swimming with more effort, fighting so fiercely at last that if it
had not been for Hannibal lending them a helping hand, they would have
been swept away.

I could not understand the reason for some time, but at last made out
that they had drifted into a spot where two little currents met, and
were striving against a force which I had not encountered, and were
being carried away.

At last, by making a desperate effort, they swam on up the swift little
current, and were nearing the tree fast, getting well toward the bough
on which we two boys were seated, when all at once they stopped and
began struggling again.

They were so near the end of the bough, that had we been there I could
almost have reached them, and yet, so close to safety, they were, as I
at last realised, completely helpless.

"What is it?  What's the matter, father?"  I cried, excitedly.

"Caught--caught among the boughs underneath," he panted, hoarsely; and I
knew now that they had swum into and become entangled among the
submerged boughs.

Just then I heard Sarah say piteously--

"It's of no use.  Try and save yourselves."

I looked at Pomp, and he nodded his head, as if he fully comprehended
me, beginning at once to creep along the bough we were on, like a
monkey, and I followed as well as I could, pretty quickly, but not with
his agility.

The bough was thick where we sat, about a couple of feet above the
water, and rose up at the end to about ten feet above.  But as I hoped,
when we were some distance along, it began to bend more and more, and
the thinner branch we now reached bent so rapidly that we were soon only
five feet, after climbing to six, then four, three--two--then one, and
then touching the water into which we sank now, going along hand over
hand, making the rough bough act as a natural rope, till Pomp was at the
full extent of the thinnest twigs and nearly within reach of the
helpless group.

"Now, Mass' George, come," he said.

I grasped his meaning and passed on abreast of him, took a good hold
with one hand grasping quite a bunch of twigs, while the boy took the
other and reached out toward where Morgan was just able to keep himself
afloat, with the others beyond him, and all growing weaker minute by
minute.

Pomp got out as far as he could and stretched out his hand, but he was a
full yard off still, and in a despairing way I looked at Morgan's
upturned face.

"No catch hold, massa?" cried Pomp; and then he said something in his
own tongue, whose effect was to make Hannibal swim rapidly towards him
from where he had been supporting my father, he being the only one not
entangled by the boughs.

The peril taught the man how to act, and catching his son's hand, he
bridged the space and extended his other hand to Morgan, so that we
formed a human chain in the water, dependent upon the strength of my
wrist and the bunch of twigs and leaves I held.

"Now, father," I said; "can you get clear?"

He struggled feebly, and I began to tremble for my hold.

"No," he said; "my foot is caught in a fork among the boughs, and if you
draw, it only tightens it."

A dead silence ensued.  What was to be done?  I could not answer the
question, and I knew that everything depended upon how long I could hold
on.  Was all our effort to result in failure after all?  It seemed so,
and I tried to say something about kicking free, but no words would
come, and once more I began to feel a horrible sensation of fear.  The
difficulty was solved by my father, who roused himself to a final effort
just in the height of our despair.

"Get her into the tree," he said, hoarsely.  "Never mind me."

What followed seems to me now like part of a confused dream.  Nearly all
my early adventures stand out, when I go back, brightly vivid and
distinct, but a mist comes over my brain when I try to recall that
scene.

I can remember though how Pomp changed his grasp of my hand after a
struggle, by getting his teeth well into the skirt of the loose black
garment I wore, thus setting both my hands at liberty, so that I was
able to get a double hold upon the boughs, and drag and draw with such
good effect that Pomp was soon within reach of another.

He seized this, and together we managed to draw Hannibal and then Morgan
within reach, so that they too got a good grip of the bended twigs, and
were in comparative safety.

But my father?

I looked from where I held on, up to my chin in the water, outward
toward the spot in which I had seen him last.  But he was not there.  He
had really been the only one entangled, and as soon as he had loosened
his hold of poor Sarah, a good struggle in the outward direction had set
him free, and I saw him now striking out feebly and floating helplessly
away.

My first thought was to swim to his help, but I was utterly unnerved and
overdone.  A few strokes would have been all that I could have taken,
and then I might have gone down, but a hand was stretched-out and caught
me by the collar, and Morgan's voice whispered--

"No, no, my lad, leave it to them."

And now for the first time, in a confused way, I understood that
Hannibal and Pompey were swimming to my father's help, while I remained
clinging there.

More misty than ever all that follows seems, but I have a recollection
of seeing the two black heads nearing where my father was still
struggling to keep afloat, drifting farther and farther away, and next
of his being close up to the great fork of the tree some dozen yards
from where we clung.

It was no easy task to join them, but the danger was past now, and after
a rest we three--Morgan, Sarah, and myself--managed to get along the
bough to where we could reach another, lower down, and level with the
water.

The rest was simple, and before many more minutes had elapsed, we were
all gathered together in the great fork among the huge branches,
wringing away part of the water that drenched us, and mentally thankful
for our narrow escape from death as we revelled in the warm beams of the
sun.



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

Very little was said for some time, every one being glad of the calm and
silence, and drawing in the genial warmth which was delicious to our
cramped and thoroughly weary limbs.

And as I sat there, gazing out over the waters at what seemed to be a
vast lake, it did not appear like a scene of desolation, for the
sunbeams danced on the rippled water, or turned it to a glittering
mirror, where it flowed calm and still; the trees stood out at intervals
all green and beautiful; and the forest beyond the clearings, though
dwarfed, was unchanged.  Now and then a fish flashed out like a bar of
silver, and the birds twittered, piped, and sang as if nothing had
happened.  It was only the poor human beings who were helpless, and
beginning to feel, now that the excitement had passed, the pangs of a
trouble that it was impossible to meet.

One of my first acts, as soon as I began to grow dry and warm, was to
take my knife from my pocket and cut a notch in the tree just on a level
with the water.

Pomp looked at me and then shook his head.

"No," he said; "no, Mass' George, no get sug gum dah, an' Pomp dreffle
hungry."

"I know that," I said, rather surlily, for my notch was not meant for
the purpose he thought, and I knew the difference between a cypress and
a sugar maple.

"Den what for cut um tree?"

"To see whether the water is rising or going down."

"Not do nuffum," said the boy, eagerly.  "'Top so."

"Yes, he is right," said my father, who had been higher up the tree,
trying to get a glimpse in the direction of the settlement, in the hope
of help in the shape of a boat being on the way.  "The flood seems to
have reached its highest point, and we may begin to hope that it will go
down now."

But the hours glided by and there was no help, and no sign of the flood
sinking.  Pomp was quite right; it did "'top so," and we began to suffer
keenly from hunger.

We had long got well warm in the sunshine, and the thirst we felt was
easily assuaged, though there was very little temptation to partake of
the turbid water; but our sensations of hunger grew apace, and I saw
that while we white people sat there about the fork of the tree, trying
to bear our sufferings stoically, both the blacks were in constant
movement, and they had always something to say, Hannibal confining his
remarks however to his son.

"Look, look!" cried Pomp, excitedly; "dah um fis.  No got hookum line,
no got net."

He shook his head despondently, evidently quite oblivious of the fact
that even with hook and line he had no bait, and that it was impossible
to use a net.

Then he was off up the tree, first ascending one great bough and then
another, to lean out, staring away between the twigs in search of
something, but he always came down again looking quite disconsolate.

"What have you been looking for?"  I said on one of these occasions.

"Simmon tree, Mass' George.  No see one nowhere 'bout."

"But you couldn't get there if you could see them."

"No get um?" he said with a laugh.  "Pomp no get um?  Wait a bit."

"Why, how could you manage?"

"No manage 'tall.  'Wim dah, and 'wim back."

Then we scanned the waste of waters in the hope that we might see
something, even if it was only some drowned animal, but nothing came in
sight till well on in the afternoon, when Hannibal made some remark
which sent Pompey into a tremendous state of excitement.

"What is it?"  I cried, eagerly rising from where I had been down to
examine my notch, to find that the water remained nearly unchanged.

"Pomp and um fader see some fis' good to eat," said the boy.  "Come
see."

I climbed up to where he was, and he pointed; but for some time I could
make out nothing but driftwood, a tree floating roots upward, and some
great patches of grass that seemed to have been scooped out of a bank,
roots and all.

"I can't see anything," I said at last.

"What, not dah?" cried Pomp.

"No."

"All 'long side dat tree?"

"Oh, yes," I cried; "what is it--a big fish?"

"No; dat nice lil 'gator, sah."

"What?  Why, we couldn't eat alligator."

"Oh, yes; eat um, got nuffum else," cried Pomp, to my great disgust.

"But even if you would eat the nasty wretch, you can't catch it."

"No," said Pomp.  "Tell um fader can't catch.  Pomp wish dat, but lil
'gator, see um come on, cock um tail up and go right to de bottom.  Oh,
oh, Mass' George, I so dreffle hungry.  Feel as if um eatum own fader."

There was something so comic in the poor fellow's trouble that I could
not forbear smiling as I went along to where Morgan was seated quietly
enough by Sarah, and I felt something like anger and disgust as I saw
that the former was eating something.

"Oh, Morgan!"  I said, sharply; "if I had had something to eat I would
have shared it."

"Isn't much, but you shall have some if you like, sir.  Sarah here won't
touch it."

He took a flat brass box out of his pocket, opened it, and held it to
me.

"Tobacco!"  I said, looking with disgust at the black, twisted leaf.

"Yes, sir, 'bacco keeps off the hunger."

"I'd rather have the hunger," I said; and he shut the box with a snap.

Restless as Pomp now, and growing more and more miserable, I climbed to
where my father was sitting watching one break among the trees in the
direction of the settlement, and he turned to me with a smile.

"Tired and hungry?" he said.  "Yes, I know.  But patience, my boy,
patience.  Our lives have been spared, and help may come at any moment."

"But do you think we shall escape?"

"Why not?" he said, calmly.  "We were in much greater peril last night."

"Yes, father," I said; "but we weren't half so hungry."

My remark brought the first smile I had seen to his lip for hours.

"Yes, yes; I know," he said; "but patience.  I think we shall soon see
the water begin to fall, for when I was at the settlement yesterday, the
tide was turning and going down about this time.  If it does not take
with it the inundation, we must divide ourselves into two parties, one
to sit and watch while the other sleeps.  By to-morrow the flood will
either have fallen, or help will have come."

"Sleep, father!"  I said, dolefully; "who can sleep at a time like
this?"

"All of us, I hope," he said.  "We shall easily drop off after our past
night's watch."

"But who could go to sleep feeling so hungry as this?"  I protested.

"You," he said, smiling; "and recollect the French proverb, _Qui dort
dine_.  You know what that means."

"No, father," I said, dolefully.

"Shame!  You should not forget your French.  He who sleeps dines, my
boy."

"Perhaps that's so in France, father, but it isn't so here, in the midst
of a flood, and I don't think any Frenchman would say so if he were up
in this tree like we are now."

I climbed down again to look at the notch I had made, and see if there
was any difference, then sent up a shout of delight, for the water had
sunk a foot, and was going down so rapidly that I could almost trace its
descent.

It was as my father had hoped; the flood was running out with the tide;
and as the cause was over we had every prospect of being set at liberty
before many hours had passed.

It was the apparent certainty of this hope which enabled us to bear
patiently the rest of our imprisonment, and the pangs of hunger.  For
night came with the water still falling; but the fact was plainly before
us--we should have to pass one night in the tree.

I looked forward to the long, dreary hours with horror, but after
getting astride of one branch, and putting my arms round another,
feeling half ready to groan with misery, the present dropped away all at
once, and I was conscious of nothing till the sun was brightly shining
again, when I awoke to find that my wrists were tightly bound together
on the other side of the great bough I had embraced; and on recovering
my senses sufficiently to look down, I saw that the water had not all
drained away, there being several feet in the lower part of the
clearings, but the house was so nearly standing out clear that there
could not have been more than a couple of feet in depth on the floor.

Morgan and Hannibal were already down, wading breast-high towards the
house; and as my father set free my hands, we prepared to follow.

It was no easy task, for the branches were far apart, and covered with
slimy mud, but we descended cautiously, promising to come back with
ropes to lower poor Sarah and Pomp.

The latter looked gloomy and discontented on being told that he was to
stay and keep Sarah company; but he proceeded to walk along to her as we
lowered ourselves down, and then contrived to be first, for his bare
feet slipped on the muddy bough, and he went headlong down splash into
five feet of water and mud, to rise again looking the most pitiable
object imaginable.

"Pomp come up again?" he asked, dolefully.

"No; go and have a good wash," said my father, and as the boy went off
swimming and wading, we two descended into the thin mud and water, and
made our way toward the house.

I looked up at my father to see what he would say to the desolation, as
I saw the change that had taken place in so short a time, and then,
miserably weak and half-hysterical as I was--perhaps that was the
cause--I burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.  For Pomp had
come close up behind us, after an expedition to the hut that had been
made for his home, and his sharp voice rose suddenly just in the midst
of our sad thoughts, with--

"Oh!  Here a mess!"

Even my father could not help laughing as he looked at the boy.

But there was nothing humorous in the scene to Pomp, who looked up at my
father with his brow knit, and continued--

"Place all gone--wash away, and can't find my tick."

"The hut washed away?" asked my father.

"Iss; all agone."

"Never mind!  We must build another.  Well, Morgan, can you find
anything to eat?"

For Morgan had just waded out of the house again with a basket in his
hand, and he hastened to open it and produce a couple of roast fowls and
a couple of loaves of bread, the latter all swollen up into a great sop,
while the former were covered with a thin coating of mud.

"Quick!" said my father, seizing one of the fowls and cutting it in two;
"get a rope from the shed, and the little ladder.  Take this to your
wife at once.  No; stop a minute.  Here, you go, George; there is some
wine in the cupboard."

I went splashing through the door, and fetched the bottle, for I knew
exactly where it stood; and on my return this was given to Morgan, who
was sent at once to the tree, while we four stood there in the water
eating the remains of the fowls ravenously, both Hannibal and Pomp
evidently enjoying the well-soaked bread, which was not bad to one so
hungry as I, after I had cut away the muddy outside.

"Yes," said my father, smiling at Pomp, after we had relieved the
terrible cravings of hunger from which we had suffered; "it is a mess.
But look, George, the water is still sinking fast."

That was plain enough to see now, and as it went lower and lower, the
damage done, though of course great, was not what might have been
expected.  We had been saved from utter destruction by the fact that
only a moderate-sized clearing had been made in the virgin forest, whose
mighty trunks had formed a natural fence round our house, and checked
the rush of the flood, which, instead of reaching us in an overwhelming
wave, had been broken up, and its force destroyed before it could reach
us.

Even the open fences about the garden had escaped, the water having
played freely in and out; and though Hannibal's hut had been lifted up
and floated right away, the fence-top was now appearing above the water,
and seemed to be quite unharmed.

The water sank so fast now that my father shouted to Morgan to let Sarah
stay where she was till there was solid earth for her to descend to, and
consequently he came down to see what he could do to help.  That
amounted to nothing, for until the water had passed away nothing could
be done, save splash here and there, looking at the fruit-trees
bestrewed with moss and muddy reeds and grass, while Morgan uttered
groan after groan, as he at last saw the bushes and the tops of his
vegetables appear covered with slime.

"The place is ruined, sir," he groaned.  "Whatever is to be done?  Go
back to the old country?"

"Get to work as soon as the place is dry," replied my father.  "A few
showers of rain after the sun has dried and cracked the mud will soon
wash your garden clean."

Morgan shook his head.  "And I don't know what my poor wife will say to
her kitchen."

"Ah, now you are touching upon the more serious part, my man," said my
father.  "Come, Morgan, you and I have got the better of worse troubles
than this, so set to work, and by some means contrive to get fires going
in each of the rooms."

"With wet wood," said Morgan, grumpily.

"Why, it's only wet outside," I cried.  "Here, Pomp, try and find the
little chopper.  Know where it is?"

"Ise know where chopper, but de hut all gone away."

The wood-shed was standing though, and before very long, with Hannibal's
help, a good basketful of dry wood was cut; and after a long struggle
and several dryings in the hot sun, the tinder and matches acted, and
big fires were blazing in the house, whose floors were now only covered
with mud.

Already the thatch and shingle roof had ceased to drip, and was rapidly
drying, while by midday Sarah was busy at work with brush and pail
cleansing the floors, and keeping the two blacks and myself busy
bringing things out to dry, while Morgan was removing mud from the
various objects within the house.

The main difficulty we had to encounter was how to find a dry
resting-place for the night.  Sheets and blankets promised to be quite
fit for use by sundown, but the question was where to lay them.  Every
one naturally objected to the trees, and the ridge of the roof was no
more inviting than on the first night.  But a little ingenuity soon put
all right.  Timber was so plentiful with us that poles and planks lay
piled up at the back of the house, and after a number of these had been
hunted up, from where they had floated among the trees, and laid in the
full sunshine, a platform was built up high above the muddy earth, and
then another upon which pine boughs were laid, and good, dry
resting-places contrived for our weary bones.



CHAPTER TWENTY.

It is needless to relate the shifts and plans adopted to restore the
place to its former state, but we were favoured by the weather, a long
spell of hot sunshine working wonders, and the rapid drying and the work
of many hands soon produced a change.  In two days we could go about on
dry ground.  In four, mud was scaling over everything in cakes, and
being cracked into dust it regularly powdered off the trees, and a
couple of tremendous tropical showers sufficed to clear off the
remainder from twig and leaf, so that what with the rapid vegetation,
and the clearing effects of rain and dew, a month had hardly passed
before the place began to look very much as it did before the
misfortune, Morgan informing me smilingly that the soft mud was as good
for the garden as a great dressing of manure.

Our furniture in the house was of the simplest, and though Sarah
declared that the place would never be the same again, I very soon began
to forget all about our trouble, and was only reminded of it by the
wisps of dry grass and muddy, woody twigs that clung here and there
among some of the trees.

On one occasion I found Pomp busy with a bucket of water and a brush
down at the bottom of the garden, where he was scrubbing away at
something black.

"Hallo!"  I exclaimed.  "What's that?"

"'Gator head, Mass' George.  Pomp find um 'tuck in dah 'tween um two
trees."

He illustrated his meaning by showing me how the head had been washed
from its place, and swept between a couple of tree-stumps, where it had
remained covered with mud and rubbish, till it had caught his eye, such
a trophy being too valuable to lie there in neglect.

I stopped till he had done, and then, all wet and glistening, the great
dried head with its gaping jaws was replaced on the spike-nail Morgan
had driven in the tree.

"Dah, you 'top till water come and wash um down again, and den Pomp come
and wash um up."

These words of the boy set me thinking; and that night I asked my father
about the probabilities of another flood.

"It is impossible to say how long it may be before we have another
visitation," he replied.  "From what I can gather, it seems that they
are so rare that a generation may go by without such a flood occurring,
and I hardly like to give up so satisfactory a home on the chance of a
fresh one coming during our lives."

"Oh no, father, don't give it up," I said.  "Everything at the
settlement seems to be straight again."

"They suffered more than we did too," he continued.

"But don't you think some one ought to have come in a boat to help us?"

"Yes, if the poor things had thought of it; but I fully believe that in
their trouble and excitement, trying to save life as they were, they did
not even give a thought to us."

Then the flood was set aside with the troubles from the Indians and the
Spaniards, my father saying quietly enough that people who came out to
an entirely new country must do so bearing in mind that they have to
take the risks with the pleasures.  Some of which Sarah heard, for she
took up the subject next time I saw her alone, and she shook her head at
me as she said--

"Yes, my dear, there's a lot to put up with for those who come to live
in new lands, and a couple more of my chickens gone; but I don't know
what you and your poor father would have done if me and Morgan had not
made up our minds to come too."

I'm afraid I was playing the impostor a little, for I said to her, "We
couldn't have got on at all without you, Sarah;" but all the time I was
thinking how much more easily we could have managed during the night of
peril if we had not had Sarah with us, and how it was in trying to save
her that my father nearly lost his life.

But I did not let her see it, and said quietly--

"Lost two more of the chickens?"

"Yes, my dear; and it seems so strange that the birds that could take
such care of themselves all through that dreadful flood should be lost
now."

"It does seem strange," I said, as my thoughts went back to the flood,
and I recalled how the fowls took refuge in the pine-trees, and kept
going higher and higher as the water rose, hopping calmly enough from
branch to branch, and roosting high up at the top, to stop picking about
till the flood was sinking, and then slowly descend with the falling
waters, to find quite a feast in the mud.

"You don't think, do you, that those two blacks, Master George--"

"What, like chickens?"

"Yes, my dear."

"The people up at the settlement say they do, and that they can't keep
any fowls at all."

"Then that's it," cried Sarah, triumphantly; "and I was right about that
smell a few nights ago."

"What smell?"

"Of something roasting in the lean-to shed where those two sleep."

"Nonsense, Sarah!  It was squirrel or something of that kind that they
had knocked down and cooked."

"No, my dear; it was exactly like roast chicken, and I'm very much
afraid--"

"So am I, Sarah, that you are going to make a mistake.  I don't believe
either of them would steal.  Ah!  Here comes Pomp all in a hurry about
something.--What is it?"

"Hi!  Find um, Mass' George," cried the boy, who was in a high state of
excitement.

"Find what?"  I cried.

"Oh, yes, Pomp find um; come and see."

"Yes, I'll come," I said.  "But, I say, Pomp, there are two chickens
gone.  Do you know anything about them?"

"Yes.  Such big bird come and take um, Mass' George.  Big bird fly ober
de tree, _whish_--_whoosh_!  And 'tick um foot into de chickum."

Sarah shook her head in a peculiar severe way; but I guessed that she
had the question of the uniform upon her mind, and she held her tongue,
while Pomp dragged me off to see his discovery.

He led me into a part of the forest where I had not been since the
flood, and there, sure enough, twenty feet above the ground, and
preserving its perpendicular position, was the greater part of the hut,
Pomp climbing up to it in triumph, and then on to the top, with the
result that his weight was just sufficient to dislodge it, and the whole
affair came down with a crash, and with the boy seated in the ruins.

"What do dat for?" he cried in a whimpering tone as he sat rubbing
himself.

"Do what?"  I cried, laughing.

"Pull um down down an' break up.  How we get um back now?"

"I didn't touch it."

"Not touch um!  How um tumble down den?  Oh my leg--my leg!"

"No, no; you're not hurt much, Pomp.  There, get up, we can't get the
hut back; and you know father said a new and better one was to be built.
We'll set this one up here and make a summer-house of it, to come to
when I'm shooting."

"Eh!  What a summer-house?"

"That will be."

"No; dat hut; massa say dat hut."

"But we'll make it into a summer-house."

Pomp shook his head and looked puzzled.

"Pomp find de hut, and Massa George say um summer-house.  'Pose um find
de boat 'ticking in tree, dat be summer-house too?"

"No, no, you old stupid," I cried.  "But, I say, Pomp," I continued, as
the thought occurred to me that this might be possible, and that the
boat had not gone down the stream to the river, and from thence out to
sea.

"What Mass' George say?" cried the boy, for I had stopped to think.

"Wait a minute," I cried.  Then, after a few moments' thought--

"Why, yes, it is possible; the flood came from the big river, up ours,
and the boat must be somewhere in the forest after all."

Pomp shook his head.

"Done know what um mean," he said.

"I mean that perhaps our boat was washed up somewhere."

"Iss, Pomp wash um up two-tree-day 'fore took away wif de mop."

"I mean the flood carried the boat up into the forest among the trees,
like it did the hut."

"Mass' George fink so?"

"Yes."

"Come 'long find um."

Willingly enough I started with the boy, but stopped directly, for I
remembered that Hannibal had come running up to announce the loss of the
boat, and that he might have some recollection of the direction in which
it was carried.

"Let's ask your father," I said; and we went to where he was in the
garden.

To my great delight, his description tallied with my idea.  The boat had
been carried up stream, and full of eagerness we set out, but it was too
late to do much that day, and we soon returned, after planning to start
at daybreak the next morning, Pomp having undertaken to awaken me, while
I arranged with Sarah for a basketful of provisions, so that we might be
able to spend a good long day.

In the course of the evening I related the finding of the hut to my
father, and my hope that the boat might be discovered too, but he shook
his head.

"Extremely doubtful, my boy.  But wait a bit and then go and search,
though, if you like; and even if you do not find it, you will have a
glorious ramble along the river-bank."

"Will you come too, father?"  I said.

"I should like to, but I have promised for several days to go over to
the settlement to meet the General and Colonel Preston.  Take Morgan or
Hannibal with you, if you like."

"Oh no, father," I said, "Pomp will be guide enough; I believe he often
steals off to go long distances into the forest after woodchucks and
squirrels."

"You will take a gun, I suppose.  Any game will be welcome."

"Yes, father."

"And take care not to get into danger."

"What danger?"

"Snakes and other reptiles may be in abundance."

"I'll take care."

"And for aught we know Indians may be hunting in the neighbourhood."

"Should not we have heard them or seen them, if they were?"  I said, for
I did not like the idea of giving up my trip.

"Well, perhaps so," said my father.  "There, I will not stop you; I only
say again, be careful when you do go."

"Can't I go to-morrow?"  I said.

"No, I would rather that you did not go right away while I am from home.
Wait a few days, and then have your trip."

I said no more, but of course felt disappointed, and a strange
temptation came over me next day, on finding how bright it was, to go
and explore a little, the more especially that Pomp came up with his
face shining and full of excitement.

"Now," he cried, "go and find summer-house."

"No, no," I said; "the boat."

"Mass' George call him summer-house yesterday."

"We'll go soon," I said, "but not for a few days."

"What Mass' George going do, then?"

"Stop about at home and take care of the house."

"Mass' George tink water come 'gain, wash um away?"

"No, no, I hope not," I said, laughing.  "But I'm not going far away."

"Mass' George come fish terrapum?"

"No, Pomp, I'm going to stop about here.  Perhaps I shall go and have a
bathe at the pool by and by, but I'm not sure."

"Pomp go wif Mass' George have 'wim."

"No, no," I said, pettishly, for I was out of temper, hot and
disappointed at not being able to go and hunt for the boat.  Then I felt
annoyed at having to stop at home when my father had gone to the
settlement, and somehow that place had never seemed to attract me so
much before.

"Father might have taken me," I said to myself, as I thought of how
beautiful the sugar-canes must be now, after the soaking and dressing
they had had with the mud.  Then, too, the Indian corn must be waving
gloriously, and I longed to see slaves at work in the cotton-field.

"Father will be seeing all that," I thought, "and it's all nonsense
about stopping and taking care of the place.  I couldn't do anything if
there was a flood, or if the Indians came.  I should have liked to go."

All of which was very absurd and stupid, but I have known other boys
think and talk in a similar way.

I went to the fence, and stood leaning over it, feeling more out of
humour than ever, and I hit viciously at a fly or two which settled upon
me.

Pomp was watching me all the time in a half puzzled way, and at last he
broke out with--

"Mass' George."

"Don't bother!"

Pomp drew back, took out the knife I had given him, picked up a piece of
wood and began to cut it, while I stood kicking at the fence, and
watching Morgan and old Vanity, as I mentally called him, busy at work
cutting down the former's deadly enemies, the weeds.

"Say, Mass' George."

"Don't bother, I tell you," I cried viciously; and there was another
pause, during which Pomp made a low whistling noise, which was not such
a very bad imitation of the bobolink.

But Pomp could not be quiet long, and he broke out again with--

"Mass' George."

I turned fiercely round to see that his black face was full of
animation, and eyes and lips bright with mischievous glee, all of which
annoyed me the more, for what business had he to be happy when I was so
disappointed, out of humour, and miserable?

"Be off!  Why don't you go to work, sir?"

"Won't Mass' George come in de wood?"

"No.  Be off!"

"Pomp come and have a 'wim 'long o' Mass' George?"

"No, you won't.  Be off; I don't want you."

The boy looked at me aghast, and his thick lower lip worked.

"Mass' George get tire poor old Pomp?"

"Yes.  Be off!"

"Mass' George send poor old Pomp 'way?"

"Yes.  Don't bother.  Can't you see I don't want you?"

"Wugh!"  Pomp threw himself down on his face, and rested his forehead on
his crossed arms.

"Don't do that," I said.  "Get up, and be off, or I shall kick you."

The boy sprang up with his eyes flashing, but they were full of tears,
and this gave me satisfaction, for I was in that absurd state of mind
when one likes to make others feel as uncomfortable as oneself.

"Mass' George want poor ole Pomp to go away?"

"Yes," I cried; "and don't be so idiotic, you miserable little nigger,
calling yourself `poor ole Pomp!'"

"Mass' George break poor ole Pomp heart."

"I'll break poor ole Pomp's head if he bothers me any more," I cried,
sulkily, as I once more leaned over the fence and began kicking off some
of the dry mud which still adhered, though the leafage above it was
clear and green.

I heard Pomp draw in his breath hard, and he gave his bare foot a stamp
on the ground.

"You want poor ole Pomp go drown self?"

"Yes," I said, sourly.

"Pomp go jump in de ribber."

"Go on then."

"You nebber see poor ole Pomp, nebber no more."

"Don't want to."

"Oh, Mass' George!--oh, Mass' George!"

These words came so piteously that all my ill-humour gave way to pity
for the boy, who was as affectionate as he was passionate by nature; but
his next words hardened me, and I stood fast, trying to hide my mirth as
he broke out in a lachrymose way, pitying himself.

"Poor lil nigger!  Oh dear, dear, poor lil black nigger slave!  Nobody
care dump poor ole Pomp!"

Then there was a long pause.

"You want Pomp go drown self, Mass' George?"

"Yes," I said.  "Mind you don't get wet."

"Eh?"

"I say, go and have a good dry drown."

"How you do dat all?"

"I don't know.  Be off."

"Poor ole Pomp!  De 'gators eat um all up like lil yam."

"Ha--ha--ha--ha--ha!"  I burst out, for I could contain myself no
longer.  The comparison to the "lil yam" was too much for me, and as I
faced round, good-humoured once more, and ready to go and bathe or do
anything with the boy who was my only companion, he showed his teeth at
me fiercely, made a run, jumped over the fence into the garden, and I
saw him dash down the middle path toward the forest as hard as he could
go.

I stood looking in the direction he had taken for a minute or two, and
felt disposed to go after him; but I had seen him get into a temper
before, and get out of it again, and I knew that next time we met all
this would have passed away from both of us like a cloud.

"No, I won't go after him," I said to myself; "it will make him vain and
conceited, and he's bad enough as it is.  Poor ole Pomp!  Poor lil
nigger!  What a rum fellow he can be when he likes!"

This little episode had quite carried off the sour feeling from which I
had suffered, and I began to look about me, enjoying the beauty of the
morning, forgetting all about Pomp, who had, no doubt, I thought, found
out a nice sunny spot and gone off to sleep.



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

No one would have thought there had been a flood to have seen the garden
and plantation so soon after the waters had gone down; for where the
slimy mud had lain in pools, it had cracked all over till it was creased
and marked like an alligator's back, through which cracks the tender
green growth soon thrust itself, to spring up at a wondrous rate, as if
glad to be fertilised by the soft alluvial soil.

Wherever the mud had lain thick on broad leaf or grass, it had, as I
have said, cracked and fallen off, or been washed away by the heavy
rains and dews, and our grounds and the country round were as beautiful
as ever--more beautiful, I ought to say, for everything was fresher and
greener, and where the swamps had been muddy and parched, and overhung
with dry growth, all was bright and glorious, with the pools full up,
and the water-ways overhung with mossy drapery, glittering and flashing
back the sun's rays wherever the sun pierced the trees.

"Going for a walk, Master George?" said Morgan that morning, as I
sauntered down the garden in the hot sunshine, wondering what I should
do with myself.

"Yes," I said, eagerly, for the question had given me the idea I wanted.
Yes, I would go for a walk.

"Better be careful, my lad.  I would not overheat myself.  After all
this flooding there may be fever in the air.  But there, you will take
care of yourself."

"Yes, Morgan," I said, "I'll try.  Seen Pomp anywhere?"

"No; not since breakfast.  A lazy young dog.  Make his father do all the
work.  What's that, sir?"

We both looked sharply round toward the forest, for there was the faint
rustle of something moving, but the sound ceased as he spoke.

"Only a squirrel," I said, at a guess.  "I think I shall go and have a
bathe."

"Where?" said Morgan; "not in the river; the stream is too swift, sir,
yet."

"No; in our big pool."

"Better take a pole and prod about well first.  After all this water
there may be a young alligator or two crept in."

"Oh, I'm not afraid of them," I said, laughing; and I listened again,
for there was another faint rustle among the leaves, but it ceased, and
I stood watching as Morgan tied up two or three of the great succulent
vine-shoots which were trailing over one of the trees, luxuriating in
the glowing sunshine, and showing goodly-sized bunches of grapes, such
as would in another two months be so many little amber bags of luscious
sweetness.

"Yes, I haven't had a swim since the flood," I thought to myself, as I
went on, leaped over the rough, moss-grown fence, and was soon after
making my way along past the edge of the sugar-cane plantation, where
the weeds were growing like mad, and then through the great, tall-leaved
rows of tobacco in the new clearing, where the stumps of the trees so
laboriously cut down still stood.

In another ten minutes I was out of the glowing sunshine beneath the
oaks with their flowing drapery of moss, now peering up to see if
anything alive was moving among the branches, now noticing how far up
the flood had risen, as shown by the mark of dried mud and the patches
of withered reed, which still clung here and there.

But there was no sign of living thing, and I walked on for a time in and
out among the great trunks in the deep shade towards where there was a
broad patch of sunshine, and all therein looked to be of green and gold.
It was the clearing where the trees had been cut down for building and
fencing when we first came.

I was not long in placing myself upon a stump out here in the broad
sunshine, to watch what was going on, for this was a favourite old place
of mine, where I generally found something to interest me.

So it was on this day, for a great crane flew up and went off with a
great deal of wing-flapping before it was clear of the trees; and as I
was eagerly watching the spot where it had disappeared, there was one
bright flash, and one only, as a humming-bird darted across the sunny
clearing, to poise itself first here and then there, before the open
flowers of the great creepers, its wings vibrating so rapidly that they
were invisible, and the lovely little creature looked more like some
great moth than a bird.

I knew him and his kind well enough, and that if I had had it in my
hand, I should have seen his head and crest all of a bright ruby tint,
and the scale-like feathers of its throat glowing almost like fire; but
as it flew rapidly here and there, it seemed all of a dull, warm brown,
surrounded by a transparency formed by its rapidly-beating wings.

I sat watching the humming-bird till another and another came to disturb
the first, and begin chasing it, darting here and there like
dragon-flies, now up, and now down; round and round, and sometimes
coming so close that I could have beaten one to the ground with a bough.
Then, all at once, they soared up and up, passed over the trees, and
were gone, leaving me swinging my legs and whistling softly, as my eyes
now wandered about in search of something else.

Oaks draped with moss, a great cypress at the edge of the clearing,
which had grown up and up till it was higher than some of the trees, and
spread its boughs over them like an umbrella to keep off the rain, and
keeping off the sunshine as well, so that they had grown up so many
tall, thin trunks, with tops quite hidden by the dark green cypress, and
looking like upright props to keep its great top spread.

I knew that in all probability there was more than one 'possum in the
great trees surrounding the opening, but Pomp was not there to find
them, and I had no dog.  I felt, too, that in all probability more than
one bright pair of eyes were watching me from some bough, and their
owners' bushy tails twitching and whisking about; but I could see
nothing, and after a time, as a sudden thought struck me, I got down
softly, and looked round for a stick.  This was soon found, for whenever
I cut one I generally left it thrust in somewhere among the dense
growth.

Thus armed, I went cautiously across the clearing toward the farther
side, where the gravelly bank was crowned by a tuft of pines, beneath
which, in the full sunshine, the ground was almost bare, and dotted with
stones, ashy, and dark, and dull, and grey.

I had committed more than one murder there, but they were murders in
which I exulted, for they meant death to the horrible rattlesnake or
deadly moccasin, as they lay sunning their cold blood in the hot rays,
ready to deal death to the passer-by, whose inadvertent foot should
disturb their sleep.

I went very cautiously, with my eyes scanning the spot eagerly, for at
very little distance the reptiles would be invisible from the way in
which their scales assimilated with the earth.  But, though I used every
caution, I saw no wavy or coiled up serpent asleep, nor caught sight of
a tail rapidly following its owner in amongst the stunted herbage and
stones.

"Getting scarcer," I said to myself, as I turned off again, and made for
a faint track between the trees--a seldom-used path, leading on to the
edge of the swamp that bordered the little river running down to the
great tidal stream, which came from far away to the north-west among the
mountains.

For a time, as I went on peering here and there, I forgot all about my
first intention, but it came back strongly as I reached a natural
opening, and once more passed out of the shade, which seemed streaked
with threads of silver where the sun-rays darted through, and stood
looking down at the broad, glistening, shallow pool, where we boys had
often bathed.

The place looked beautiful as ever; the water wonderfully clear.  Small
fish darted away at my approach, and took refuge in the reeds and grass
at the side, or in the broad patch of water-growth in one corner some
twenty yards across.

There was the dead tree on my side of the pool, which was about sixty
yards in length, and looked as tempting a spot for a bath as can be
imagined.

The heat was growing oppressive, but the air was beautifully pure and
clear; and the insects which darted about flashed in the sunshine, and
kept up a continuous hum that was soothing and pleasant, as I began to
take off my clothes, enjoying the sensation of the hot sun pouring its
heat down upon my skin.

"I wish Pomp was here," I said to myself; and as I said those words, I
burst out into a hearty fit of laughter, as in imagination I saw his
black face shining in the water, and the great drops standing like
pearls in his woolly head.

My thoughts did not promise him much enjoyment in his bath, for divers
ideas connected with ducking, splashing, and the like occurred to me,
the more forcibly from the fact, that though Pomp swam admirably, it was
after the fashion of a duck, and not of a fish, for he never, if he
could possibly help it, put his head under water.

I was half undressed, when I caught a glimpse of a good-sized pike,
slowly rising to the surface to bask, and stooping down, and picking up
the stick I had brought with me--a good stout piece of hickory nearly
six feet long--I drew back a little, stole gently along the edge of the
pool till I deemed myself about opposite, and then raising the stick
with both hands, stole forward, to deal a heavy blow at the fish,
trusting that if I missed it the stroke on the water might paralyse it,
until I had had time to hook it ashore.

"Don't see why a crack with a stick should not do as well as an
alligator's tail," I said to myself.

That blow was not delivered, for before I could gather myself up and
bring my muscles to bear, the water flashed as a little wave rose, and
the fish was far out of reach.

"Better luck next time," I said, as I went back to the tree, finished
undressing, stood for a moment or two on the edge of the pool, and then
dived in, sending the water flying up sparkling in the light.

It was deliciously invigorating, though the water was too much warmed by
the sun to give me a swift electric shock; and as I rose to the surface,
shook the drops from my eyes, and began to swim slowly along, I felt as
if I had never enjoyed a bath so well before.  For the water felt soft,
and yielding, and elastic, and as if no effort was required to keep
myself afloat.

"Pity old Pomp isn't here," I said, as I lazily swam to one end, where
there were tufts of water weeds, and a kind of natural ditch took off
the surplus water into a pool of similar size, a hundred yards away
among the trees--a black-looking, overhung place, suggestive of
reptiles, and depth, and dead tree-trunks with snaggy boughs ready to
remove a swimmer's skin, though possibly if the trees had all been
cleared away, and the bright sunshine had flooded it with light, it
might have looked attractive enough.

As it was, I should have thought it madness to venture into such a spot,
not knowing what danger might lurk therein, and I turned and swam back
toward the other end, but stopped in the middle opposite my clothes
lying on the fallen tree, and turned over to float and gaze up at the
blue sky and the glorious hues of green upon the trees which surrounded
the pool.

"I wonder where Pomp is," I said to myself, and then, satisfied that if
he saw Morgan he would learn where I had gone, and follow, I turned over
on my breast and began to swim lazily toward the end where the reeds
grew.

"I dare say all the fish have taken refuge in there," I said to myself.
"If one had a net to spread round, and then send Pomp in there with a
pole to beat and thrash about, one might get, a good haul."

I swam on, driven by I don't know what attraction toward the great patch
of reeds standing up out of the clear water, when all at once Morgan's
words concerning alligators came to my mind, and for a moment I
hesitated and ceased swimming, gazing straight before me at the large
patch of aquatic growth, and then at another, a dozen yards away to my
right.

"They'd only he little ones and scuttle off as hard as they could," I
thought directly, and continued swimming toward the great patch before
me, when, just as I was about a dozen feet from the thickest part, I
felt a chill of horror run through me, paralysing every nerve, and my
lips parted to utter a cry, for the reeds were suddenly agitated as by
the passage of something forcing its way out, and to my horror the
hideous open-mouthed snout of a great alligator was thrust forth, and
from its wide jaws there came a horrible bellowing roar which sounded to
me at the moment as if the monster had uttered the word _Houk_!

I could not for the moment stir nor utter a cry for help.  Then as the
reeds were more roughly agitated, and I saw that the brute was
struggling out from the tangle of matted roots below the surface, I
threw myself back, and splashing and beating the water with all my might
to scare the reptile, I made for the shore.

The distance was only short, but to me then it seemed interminable.

I had only glanced over my shoulder once, to see that the alligator was
in full pursuit, with its open jaws well above the surface, and
evidently gaining upon me fast, as I tore through the water, sending all
I could back over the monster's muzzle; but in those agonised moments
all seemed in vain, as in imagination I felt myself seized, dragged
under, and drowned.

The thought was far too horrible to bear; and, in spite of myself, I
felt that I must turn round and face the brute, to make one brave
struggle for life, and not let it seize me by the leg and drag me down,
when just as I was about to yield to this feeling, and in the act of
turning, my horror culminated, for there was a rush, and a great wave of
water rose from the open patch of reeds on my left, and I knew that a
second enemy had rushed out from its lair and was making for me.

I uttered a hoarse gasp, and began swimming again toward the shore, when
once more a strange sensation ran through me, mingled of horror,
despair, and wonder, as I heard in a hoarse, hollow voice I well knew,
though it sounded strange--

"Oh, oh, Mass' George!  Help!  Great 'gator, Mass' George--help!"

The cry did not come from the bank, nor from among the trees, but from
close behind me where the first alligator was in full pursuit, and as I
once more ceased swimming, paralysed by wonder, I saw my first pursuer
rise up in a peculiar way in the water, raise its two black paws to its
head, take it off, and dash it at the second alligator, which seized it
on the instant, a second head appearing just above the surface, closing
upon the first with a snap, and then there was a tremendous swirl in the
water, a tail appeared above the surface as the brute dived down, and as
I swam on panting, the surface of the water behind grew calm.

But I was not swimming alone.  Pomp's black head was close by me, and
his voice rose in a sobbing howl as, shivering with horror, he kept on--

"Oh, swim fass, Mass' George; swim fass, Mass' George, 'fore de 'gator
catch us.  Oh, swim fass, Mass' George; swim fass, Mass' George!  'Fore
de 'gator catch us," till we reached the shore and scrambled out, white
and black, in the blazing sun, the water streaming down us, and both
panting hard and trembling in every limb.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

"Oh--ho--ho--ho--ho!  What a lubbly bit fun!" cried Pomp, as soon as the
danger had passed away.

"Why, Pomp!"  I cried at last, fiercely, for I was too much astonished
to speak at first.

But he was off along the bank, to stop opposite the smaller batch of
reeds, where he stood with both his fists doubled, stamping his bare
feet, and shouting a perfect torrent of abuse at the invisible enemy.

I caught a word here and there, words full of threats of what he would
do to the "ugly 'gator, nex' time."  But I was too much upset to shout
till I had scrambled into my clothes, when I went sharply along the edge
of the pool to where the boy was still shaking his fists, and abusing
the reptile which had nearly scared him to death.

But there was another scare ready for Pomp.  Indignation was hot within
me, and I made my presence known by a smart kick with my bare foot which
nearly sent him into the pool again, and a cuff on the side of the head
which knocked him back.

"Oh--oh--oh!  Don't, Mass' George," he bellowed, as he dropped on his
knees and held up his hands; "don't flog um, Mass' George.  I nebber,
nebber do so no more."

"You rascal!"  I cried, catching him by the ear.  "How came you to play
me that trick?"

"On'y for bit ob fun, Mass' George; on'y for bit ob fun."

"You dog!"  I cried, shaking him.

"On'y lil bit o' fun, Mass' George; got de 'gator's head on to frighten
um.  Nebber tink no 'gator dah, or not nebber done it."

"No, I suppose not," I cried.  "How dare you try to frighten me like
that!"

"Say, Mass' George, you pull dat ear right off."

"Serve you right too, sir.  You insolent rascal.  But I'll tell my
father, and you shall be flogged."

"Oh no, don't do dat ah, Mass' George.  Kick um again and pull um oder
ear.  Pomp won't holler much.  Don't tell de massa."

"A blackguardly, cowardly trick with that nasty old alligator's head."

"But, Mass' George," cried Pomp, suddenly jumping up, "you no business
beat kick a boy."

"What, sir!"

"Why, if I no do dat, an de ole 'gator get hold ob de head, he get hold
ob you, an where you be now?"

My hand dropped to my side, and I stared in a puzzled way at Pomp, who
began to show his white teeth, as it seemed to me that what he said was
true, and that if the reptile had not dashed at the boy, and seized the
old head thrown at him, he might have seized me and dragged me down.

"Tink I sabe you, Mass' George, and you hab berry narrow scrape; and den
you say you tell de massa, and hab me flog."

"Yes," I said, half aloud, "he might have seized me."

"Oh, he hab you, sure 'nuff, Mass' George, and um be pickin' you bone
now down in de mud--iyah--iyah--iyah!" he roared, in a great burst of
laughter as he turned round to the water, rested his hands on his knees,
and shouted--

"How you like big 'gator head, eh?  You find um berry hard?  Hope you
like um, sah."

He faced round to me again, showing his teeth, and with his eyes
twinkling with merriment.

"Don't tell a massa," he said, pleadingly.

I was conquered, for it was clear enough to me now that the boy's prank
had in all probability saved my life.  But I still hesitated as I seized
him by both ears now, and gently swayed his head to and fro.

"Dat's right, Mass' George, pull um hard.  I no mine a bit."

"You rascal!"  I cried; "will you promise never to do it again?"

"Can't do it again, Mass' George; ugly great 'gator got de head."

"But will you play me such a trick again?"

"Dunno, Mass' George.  You pull hard bofe ears togedder, and kick um."

"Where are your clothes?"  I said, quite disarmed now.

"In de tree, Mass' George.  Hab noder pull."

"No," I said.  "Put on your clothes."

Pomp threw himself on the ground and began to howl.

"What's that for, sir?"

"You go tell de capen, and hab poor nigger flog.  Ah, Mass' George, you
bery cruel young massa."

"Get up, Pomp.  I'm not going to tell father, but you shouldn't have
played me such a trick."

The boy seemed as if made of india-rubber, for he sprang up, ducked
down, stood on his head, and then went over and over head over heels
three or four times before leaping up with a loud shout.

"Oh, Mass' George, pull um out; got big forn in um back."

It was quite true, and after I had relieved him of the spine, he ran to
the biggest tree near, climbed up into the fork, and descended directly
with his clothes, into which he slipped--not a long job, for he was by
this time dry, and his garments consisted only of a short-sleeved shirt
and a pair of cotton drawers, which came down to mid thigh.

"Now, look here, Mass' George," he cried, excitedly; "you'n me got to
kill dat 'gator."

"Yes," I said, "I must lie in wait and shoot him."

"I tink so.  What did he come in young mass' bath for?  I go fetch um
gun now."

"No, no," I said.  "It would be no use."

"No," said Pomp, thoughtfully, and then showing his teeth; "too busy
fryin' um dinner.  Oh, Mass' George, what a bit ob fun!"

Pompey threw himself down, and laughed till the tears rolled down his
cheeks.

"I ten times--hund times more frightum than you, Mass' George.  I tought
um catch dis nigger for sartum, an' I felt so sorry for you, Mass'
George, dat I holler out loud."

"Sorry for me?"

"Yes, sah.  What you do widout Pomp?"

"Come along," I said, half surlily, half amused at the easy-going,
light-hearted way in which the boy could forget the horrible peril in
which he had placed himself.

"You berry sorry too, Mass' George.--I know."

"Know what?"

"How catch um 'gator?"

"How?"

"Pompey know.  Show um a morrow.  Good-bye, sah.  Bring you 'noder
dinner morrow morning."

He made a mock salutation in the direction he believed the reptile to
have taken, and then together we began to thread our way through the
trees, back toward the clearing, and then after another cautious look
round for snakes made for the garden.  But before we were within a
hundred yards, Pomp stopped.

"Ole massa in big garden, Mass' George?"

"I don't know," I said.  "He was going to be back to dinner."

"I go round de oder way.  Mass' say I chop wood, and I was going to chop
wood till I hear you say Morgan you go for walk, and I know you go for
'wim."

"Well?"

"Pomp very hurt upon Mass' George."

"Oh, were you?"  I said.

"Mass' George say cruel fing to Pomp, so um go an' fess de ole 'gator
head, and undress umself, an' get in de water firs, an' fright um."

"Ah, well, you'll be flogged one of these days, Master Pomp, without my
telling tales of you."

"I 'pose I will," he said, thoughtfully.  "No like for Mass' George
tell, dough."

"Why not?"

"Cos dat hurt Pomp more dan de floggum."

"Nonsense!"

"Eh?  Dat nonsense, Mass' George?  I don't know.  If Mass' Morgan tell
and get Pomp flog, Pomp holler, `Oh don't, oh don't!' an' fro himself on
de ground, an' squiggle an' kick.  But soon as done flog um, Pomp rub um
back up gen tree, an' nebber mine a bit."

"I suppose so," I said.

"But if Mass' George tell an' get Pomp flog, dunno why, but no use rub
back gen de tree.  Hurt Pomp all de same."

So Pomp ran off to get round to the wood-shed, where I heard him as I
reached the house chopping away as hard as he could, and making the wood
fly; and I need hardly say I did not tell any tales about the boy's
trick, though I thought about it a great deal.

My ideas of punishment were not of the flogging kind, but connected with
some way of giving Master Pomp tit for tat by means of a scare; but my
invention was rather at fault, and idea after idea was dismissed as soon
as formed.  They were not pleasant ideas, some of them, and they were
all wanting in the element I wished to impart.

One of Sarah's wild-plum jam puffs, with a dose of medicine concealed
therein, was dismissed at once.  So was a snake in his bed, because
there were objections to the trick.  In all probability the snake would
not stop there; and if it did, as it must necessarily be a harmless one,
it would not frighten Pomp a bit, and might suggest the idea of playing
a similar trick on me.

I could push him into the water first time we were on the river-bank,
but he would only laugh and swim out.

I might lasso him suddenly some day, and tie him up to a tree, and leave
him in the forest without anything to eat for a few hours; but I knew
that I couldn't find the heart to torture the poor fellow like that; and
if I could, no knots that I contrived would ever hold him very long.

"Bah!  It's waste of time!"  I said; and I gave it up, not knowing that
I should soon have something far more serious to think about.  For just
as I was deep in my cogitations I heard a step, and my father came into
sight, looking very hot and tired.

That evening, as we sat together by the light of a candle, with the
forest insects humming round, he said suddenly--

"I'm afraid our troubles with the Spaniards are not over, George.  These
people are threatening again."

"But that does not matter, does it, father?"

"I don't know yet, my boy.  There is a great deal of braggadocio and
pride in your Spanish don, and they have plenty of enterprise and fight
in them sometimes, as we know by what they have done."

"But will they come and fight against us, father?"  I said, eagerly.

"I don't know that they will come and fight against _us_," he replied,
dryly.

I felt the blood come up into my temples, and I spoke quickly--

"I know I'm only a boy, father, and not big enough to fight for you, or
by your side like a soldier, but I could load."

He smiled and leaned toward me, and patted my shoulder.

"I beg your pardon, George," he said, kindly.  "I ought not to have
spoken as I did.  You are only a boy, and while you are a boy I pray
heaven that you may enjoy a boy's happy life, and that we may be free
from all the troubles that are threatening.  I am a soldier, and I have
fought in the service of my country."

"Yes," I said, proudly, "I know.  Morgan has often told me."

"Morgan ought to hold his tongue, and not put vain notions into your
head."

"But he said it was glorious, father."

He looked at me sadly, and sighed.

"I am a soldier, George," he said; "but I am afraid that I have very
little belief in what people call glory.  In too many cases the
brilliancy of the glory is dulled with blood and horror too terrible to
be spoken of without a shudder.  It is glorious to fight in defence of
your country, its women and children, or to fight here for our homes;
and while I have strength to lift a sword, or voice and knowledge to
lead and direct others in such a cause, I will, if it is necessary,
fight again.  But after what I have been through and seen, I am ready to
go down on my knees and pray the God of love and peace and mercy that
neither I nor you may ever see sword flashed or shot fired in anger
while we live."

He was silent for a few moments, and then he said, cheerfully--

"Come, what did the Latin writer say about a man defending his own
country?"

"`_Dulce et decorum est_--'" I said, promptly, and then stopped short.
"I forget the rest, father."

He laughed.

"Our life out here, as the pioneers of a new civilisation, is not
conducive to the study of the classics, my boy.  It's a rough school,
where we have to take care to avoid fevers, and meet Indians, and are
threatened with Spanish aggression, and have to fight for our lives
against a flood.  But there, we have drifted into a very serious talk."

"But I like it, father," I said eagerly, "though I am ashamed to have
forgotten my Latin."

"Ah, well, you will look that passage up in your Horace, and I venture
to say that it will be so impressed now upon your memory that it will
never slip away.  There, I mentioned the flood.  Flood suggests boat.
You said you thought the boat might have been carried up the stream into
the woods somewhere."

"Yes," I said; "the water did come out of the big river and rush up
ours."

"It is quite probable.  You may find it as you say you did the hut.
When are you going to search for it?"

"When you give me leave."

"Go when you like.  I did think I should have to go again to-morrow to
the settlement to confer with the General and the others, but messages
have again been sent back to the Spanish Governor of Florida, and it
must be many days, perhaps weeks, before we hear again, so you can go
to-morrow if you will."

I leaped up from my seat excitedly.

"Where are you going now?"

"To tell Pomp to call me, and ask Sarah to prepare a basket of something
to eat."

He nodded and took up a book, while after telling our housekeeper of my
wants, I ran across the clearing to the edge of the forest to call the
boy to get ready.

As I drew near I found Hannibal seated on a stump left by the cutting
down of one of the trees to make room for the new hut, with his chin
resting in his hands.

"Hallo, Han," I said; "anything the matter?"

"No, Mass' George," he said.  "I only look up at de 'tars and tink."

"What about?"

"I wonder wedder dey de 'tars I see in my own country."

"Yes," I said; "I do know that.  Do you ever want to go back again?"

"Back again, sah?"

"Yes--to your own country."

He shook his head.  "No, Mass' George.  Too much fight--too much kill--
too much sell for slave; nebber go back again."

"Then you are happy here?"

"Yes, sah.  Happy here wif Mass' George and de capen.  Can't talk.
Understand?"

"Oh, yes," I said; "I understand.  Where's Pomp?"

"Sleep.  Dah!  I call um."

"No, no; let me," I said, laughing.

I went into the hut, and there on the blanket in a corner, with his
mouth wide open, lay the boy fast asleep.

It was so dark inside that I should not have been able to make him out
but for the gleam of light from the window, which made his teeth just
visible.

I stood looking down at him and listening to his breathing for a few
moments, before slipping out of the hut, taking my knife from my pocket,
and cutting a long twig which I stripped, all but a few leaves at the
end.  As I came back, Hannibal rose.

"Don't whip, Mass' George," he said in a pleading whisper, as he laid
his hand upon my arm.

"I was not going to," I said, laughing, "only to tickle him."

I saw the big African's teeth gleam, and I stole back into the hut on
tip-toe, thinking the while how marvellous it was that a great fellow
like the black, who could have almost crushed me with one hand, should
be so patiently submissive, and give up to me as he did.

But that thought passed away as I stood over Pomp and gently tickled him
on one cheek.  He moved restlessly, and I tickled the other with the
leaves.  He turned back again, and the end of the twig began to play
about his neck.  There was a quick rustle, one hand struck at the twig
and Pomp rolled over upon his face.  This gave me a good opportunity to
titillate both sides of his neck, and he sprang round again.

"Bodder!"  I heard him mutter; but I persevered, making the twig play
well about him.

"Bodder de fly!" he cried, viciously; but the twig tickled away, and
Pomp's eyes were so tightly closed that he contented himself with
twisting and rubbing himself.

"Wait I get up, I mash all de ole fly eberywhere," he muttered.

Tickle--tickle--tickle.

_Slip slap_.  Pomp's hands delivered a couple of blows on his bare skin.

Tickle--tickle--tickle.

"You no like me come mash you, eh?"

Tickle--tickle--tickle.

"Yah!  You great ugly skeeter, you leave lil nigger go sleep."

"_Buzz_--_buzz_--_hum_."  Tickle--tickle--tickle.  I made as good an
imitation as I could of a gnat's hum, and kept up the tickling till he
made two or three vicious lounges out at where I stood in the darkness,
and this time he got hold of the twig.

"Eh?" he exclaimed.  "Dat not skeeter fly.  Dat you, fader?  You let lil
nigger go sleep.  Keep a 'tick 'till."

"Eh?  Who dat?  Ah, yah!  It you, Mass' George.  I know all de time."

"No, you didn't, old sleepy head."

"Eh?  Well, what head for at night but sleep um?  You want Pomp go after
'coon?"

"No; look here, Pomp; we're to go and try to find the boat in the
morning.  Come and call me as soon as it's day."

"Eh?  Why not go now, Mass' George?"

"No, no; I want to go and have a good sleep first.  Mind, as soon as
it's light; I'll take the gun."

"I call you, Mass' George, widout come an' ticklum wif lil 'tick, ha--
ha--ha!  I know."

"Good-night."

"Good-night, Mass' George; I come and climb up your window; and you look
out."

"I will," I said to myself as I went away, said good-night to Hannibal,
and hurried back to bed, but not till I had carefully fastened my window
ajar, so that Pomp could not get it open in the morning.  And there I
was, too much excited by the ideas of the trip to get to sleep.  For as
I lay there I could picture the little river winding in and out among
the great trees of the primeval forest, and see it here black as night
flowing sluggishly beneath the drooping moss-hung trees, there dancing
in the sunshine that rained down from above, and then on and on in
amongst the mysterious shades where in all probability the foot of man
had never trod.

"Oh," I said to myself at last, as I lay listening to the monotonous
piping insect hum, and the bellowings and croakings from the wood, "how
hot it is!  I do wish it was day."

But it seemed that many hours must elapse before day could come, and in
a curious dreamy way I was wandering on and on through the tangled wood
close to the river-bank, when Pomp said in a whisper--

"Hi!  Mass' George, you go 'top seep all day?"

I started up to find that I had slept for hours, and light in the shape
of the morning was at the window, in company with darkness in the form
of Pomp's black face.



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

I lost no time in dressing after opening my window wide, there being no
fear now of Pomp getting at me to have his revenge while I was asleep
for the tricks I had played upon him.

The boy thrust in his legs with an easy motion, as soon as the window
was thrown open, raising himself and dropping gently into a sitting
position to watch me wash and dress.

"Well, why are you looking on in that contemptuous way?"  I said at
last, as I noted the play of his face.

"Dat not temshus, Mass' George," he said.  "I only sit and fink what
long time you are wash and dress."

"That's not long," I said; "why, how long are you?"

"No time, Mass' George.  I go bed like am now, and get up like am now,
and come on."

"But do you mean to say you haven't washed this morning?"

"How I 'top go to ribber an' wash, when Mass' George wait to be called?
Hab good 'wim when we get to ribber."

I finished dressing, and took Pomp into Sarah's kitchen, where we both
made a hearty meal, which was interrupted by Pomp insisting upon having
the shot and powder pouches buckled on him at once, so that he might
make sure of them, and not be defrauded of the honour of carrying them
by any tricks on my part.

He did not look so pleased at having to carry the wallet which had been
well stored ready for our use, but he submitted to have the strap thrown
over his head, and passed one arm through.  Then full of eagerness I
shouldered the gun, and we started off into the forest, passing the
clearing where the rattlesnake had been killed, and next passing on to
the little river, up whose course we were to make our way, keeping a
good look-out for the boat the while.

The morning was glorious, the sun piercing the low-lying mist, which
rapidly grew more transparent, broke up, and seemed to dissolve away.
The birds were piping and screaming in the trees, and as we reached the
river, where all was light and sunshine, we started first a great white
crane, which rose from the shallows and flew off, then a kingfisher with
dazzling coat, and soon after came in sight of a little flock of
rosy-winged flamingoes, with their curious, long, snaky, writhing necks,
and quaintly-shaped bills, which always looked to me as if they were
made to use upside down.

"Well, I nebber see!" cried Pomp at last, after stepping back, and
preserving the most profound silence time after time.

"What's the matter?"

"Why Mass' George no shoot?"

"Because we don't want the birds.  You don't care to have to carry them,
do you?"

"No; dis wallet um so dreffle heabby."

We tramped on a little farther, now in the deep shade, now in the golden
sunshine when we could get close to the stream, and then Pomp sighed.

"Mass' George like to carry de walletum now?"

"No; I'm carrying the gun."

"Pomp carry de gun."

"Oh, no," I said, "I'll manage that;" and we went slowly on again.
There was no track, and near the river where the light and sunshine
played there was plenty of thick undergrowth, while a short distance
back in the forest the walking was easy among the trees, where scarcely
anything clothed the ground in the deep shadow.

Pomp kept trudging away toward the dark, shadowy forest, and I had to
stop him again and again, for the boat was not likely to be in there.
On the last occasion he said--

"Walletum dreffle heabby, Mass' George.  Don't think better carry um
inside?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mass' George eat half, and Pomp eat half.  Den we hab nuffum to carry."

I naturally enough burst out laughing.

"Why, we've only just had a good breakfast, and couldn't eat any more."

"Oh yes, Pomp could, big lots."

"And what are we to have to eat by and by, when we get hungry?"

"Mass' George shoot ducks; Pomp make fire an' roace um."

"No, no, no," I cried.  "Here, pass me the wallet, and I'll give you a
rest."

"And Pomp carry de gun," he cried, eagerly.

"No, sir.  If you can carry the gun, you can carry the wallet.  Here,
give me hold."

Pomp looked disappointed as he handed over the wallet very slowly, and
after slinging it on we once more progressed, looking carefully in all
directions in search of the lost boat, but seeing nothing; and I soon
had to come to the conclusion that the chances were very greatly against
our finding the object of our search.

It was slow work, but for some miles the place was familiar, my father
having brought me as far exploring, and Pomp and I having several times
over boated through the dark forest along that bright, winding highway--
the river; generally with some difficulty, on account of the fallen
trees, and snags, and dense overgrowth, beneath which we often had to
force our way, while at other times we had almost to cut a channel
through the lilies and other water plants which choked the stream.

It was plain enough to see though, now, how comparatively easy a journey
would have been in a boat, for the large flood-waves which had swept up
the river had scoured out its bed, throwing vast rotting heaps of the
succulent water-growths ashore to rot, fester, and dry in the hot sun.

High up too I could see the traces where the flood had reached, well
marked by the dry grass hanging among the boughs.

But we kept on forcing our way slowly, soon getting into a part of the
river that was entirely new, and growing more and more fascinating to me
at every step.

For there was, in addition to the glorious beauty of the bright, sunny
river, with its banks where in places the trees drooped down and dipped
their boughs in the smooth water, and the various growths were of the
most dazzling green, always something new--bird, quadruped, insect, or
fish taking my attention to such a degree that I often forgot the boat
and the object of our journey.

Pomp was just as excited as I, touching my arm every now and then to
point with a black finger at some grey heron standing thigh-deep,
watching for the fish that nearly made the waters alive; and perhaps
just as we were waiting to see him make the next dart with his beak at
some shoal of unfortunate fry, there would be what seemed to be a great
curved bar of silver flash out of the water, to plunge in again, giving
us just a glimpse of the fierce fish's glittering scales.  Every now and
then some big fellow would leap right out, to come down again with a
heavy splash, and send a whole shoal of tiny fish, invisible to us
before, flying out of the water to avoid their enemy, the river shark.

A little farther, and Pomp's lips would be close to my ear imploring me
to shoot as he indicated a bit of sandy or muddy shore where, just clear
of the water and looking like a piece of tree-stump, a great alligator
would lie basking in the hot sunshine.

But I invariably resisted his prayers, and as we went on, the reptile
would suddenly hear our coming and scuffle rapidly out of sight, making
a great swirl in the water as he disappeared.

"No, Pomp," I would say, "the first 'gator I shoot must be that one in
the bathing-pool.  Come along."

On we went, with the river winding in and out through the forest, and
there was always something fresh to see: humming-birds that were not so
big as some of the butterflies and beetles that swarmed in the sunshiny
parts; great lagoon-like pools where the running of the stream became
invisible, and we could see far down in the deep water where fish were
slowly gliding in and out among the roots of the trees, which in many
places clothed the bottom with masses of fibre.  Now Pomp's eyes would
be ready to start out of his head as we neared a corner, or starting off
into the forest to avoid some wild or swampy patch, we crept out to the
river's bank again, to startle a little flock of ducks which had been
preening themselves, and sent feathers like tiny boats floating down the
stream.

"Plenty of time," I would keep saying.  "We don't want them yet, and
I'll shoot them when we do."

"But 'pose dey not dah to shoot when you want um, Mass' George.  I
dreffle hungry now."

"Ah," I said at last, "our wallet is getting heavy.  Let's pick out a
place, and have some lunch."

Pomp pricked up his ears, as he generally did when he heard a new word,
and this was one ready for him to adopt.

"Iss," he said, eagerly, "I berry fond o' lunch.  I fought smell um
yesday when missie cook um."

"Cook what?"  I said.

"Dat lunch, Mass' George."

I laughed, and pressed on to look for a good spot, and soon found one
where a great tree, whose roots had been undermined by the river, had
fallen diagonally with its branches half in the water, and offering us a
good seat just nicely shaded from the burning sun, while we had only to
lie out on its great trunk and reach down to be able to fill the tin can
I had with the clear water.

The gun was leaned up against the tree-roots; we each sat astride facing
each other, the bigness of the tree making it rather an uneasy seat; I
slung the wallet round and placed it between us, and had just thrust in
my hand, while Pomp wrenched himself round to hang the ammunition
pouches close to the gun on a ragged root behind him, when, all at once,
the boy's left leg flew over and kicked the wallet out of my hands, and
he bounded a couple of yards away to stand grinning angrily and rubbing
himself.

"Too bad, Mass' George.  What do dat for?"

"Do what?"  I cried, roaring with laughter, as I stooped down and picked
up the wallet, out of which fortunately nothing had fallen.

"'Tick um pin in poor lil nigger."

"I didn't," I said; "and see what you've done."

"Yes, Mass' George did.  Pomp felt um.  You wait bit, I serb you out."

"But I tell you I did not, Pomp," I cried, as I wiped my eyes.  "Oh, you
ridiculous-looking little chap!  Come and sit down."

"No, won't.  You 'tick um pin in poor lil nigger behind leg 'gain."

"I will not, 'pon my honour," I cried.  "Oh, you did look comic."

"Made um feel comic dicklus," cried Pomp, catching up the two words I
had used.  "Did hurt."

"Come and sit down."

"You no 'tick um pin in 'gain?"

"I haven't got a pin," I said.

"Den I know; it was um big forn."

"It wasn't, Pomp.  Come and sit down and have some lunch."

"No.  Won't come.  Don't want no lunchum.  Hurt poor Pomp dreffle.  You
alway play um trick."

"I tell you I didn't do anything, Pomp.  There, come along."

He caught sight of the food I brought now from the wallet, and it was
irresistible.

"You no 'tick pin in nigger 'gain?"

"No."

"Nor yet um forn?"

"No.  Come along, you little unbeliever.  Come along."

"I serb you out fo dat, Mass' George, you see," he said, sidling back to
the tree, watching me cautiously the while.

"Oh, very well, I'll forgive you," I said, as he retook his place.  "I
say, Pomp, I am thirsty."

"So 'm I, Mass' George.  Dat lunchum?"

"Yes; that's lunch," I said, as I laid the neatly-done-up napkin
containing provision of some kind on the tree-trunk between us, and
taking out the tin can I leaned right back, gripping the tree with both
legs, and lowering my hand I dipped the vessel full of water.

I was just in the act of rising cautiously and very slowly, when a sharp
pain in the fleshy part of my leg made me spring forward in agony,
dashing the water in Pomp's face, knocking the wallet and its contents
over sidewise, and in my pain and rage I seized the boy to begin cuffing
him, while he wrestled with me to get away, as we hugged and struggled
like two fighting men in a _melee_ on the same horse.

"How dare you!"  I panted; "that was the point of your knife.  I'll
teach you to--Oh, murder!"

"Oh, Mass' George, don't!  _Oh_!  Oh!  Oh!"

We both made a bound together, went off the trunk sidewise, and Pomp
struggled up, tore off his shirt and drawers, and began to beat and
shake them, and then peep inside, pausing every moment to have a rub;
while I, without going to his extreme, was doing the best I could to rid
myself of my pain.

"Nas' lil fing!" cried Pomp, stamping on something in the grass.  "Look,
look, Mass' George, make hase; dey eat all de lunchum."

The mystery was out.  We had seated ourselves upon the home of a vicious
kind of ant, whose nest was under the rotten bark of the tree, and as
soon as Pomp realised the truth he danced about with delight.

"I fought you 'tick pin in lil nigger.  You fought I 'tick um knife in
Mass' George!  You catch um, too."

"Yes," I said, wriggling under my clothes, and rubbing myself.  "Oh!
Quick!  Back of my neck, Pomp, look.  Biting."

Pomp sprang to me in an instant.

"I got um, Mass' George.  Dah!" he cried, as he placed the vicious
little insect between his teeth, and bit it in two.  "You no bite young
massa 'gain.  How you like be bite, sah?  Make you feel dicklus, eh?
Oh!  Ugh!  Tiff!  Tiff!  Tiff!  Oh, um do tase nasty."

Pomp spat and shuddered and ended by washing out his mouth by running a
little way, lying flat with his head over the bank, and scooping up some
water with his hand.

Meanwhile I cautiously picked up the provisions, the napkin and wallet,
and carefully shook them clear of the vicious little things--no easy
job, by the way; after which, stinging and smarting still, I sought
another place where we could eat our meal in peace.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

"No, no, Pomp," I said, after a time, during which we had been
thoroughly enjoying our food, "you've had quite enough.  We shall want
to make this last till night."

"Mass' George no want to finish um all up?"

"No."

"So not hav' to carry walletum."

"Of course not.  We shall soon be hungry again."

"Catch fis; shoot de duck; Pomp fine plenty 'tick; and make a fire."

"I wish you'd find the boat," I said, packing up the remains of the meal
the while.  "Think it's any use to go any farther?"

"Yes; go right on, Mass' George; plenty time."

"Yes, we'll go on," I said, for I felt refreshed and rested, and as if I
should like to go journeying on for days--the beauty of the river and
the various things we saw exciting a desire to continue our trip.  "I
don't suppose any one ever came here before, but we mustn't lose our
way."

"Couldn't lose way, Mass' George.  Ony got to keep by ribber, and he
show de way back."

"Of course," I said; "I forgot that."

"No walk back."

"I hope not," I said.  "We are going to find the boat."

Pomp made a grimace and looked round, as if to say, "Not likely."

"No find a boat, put lot ob 'tick togedder and float down de ribber
home."

"Ah, well, we'll see," I said; and we continued our journey for hour
after hour, always finding some fresh beauty to entice me, or living
object for Pomp to stalk and beg me to shoot.  But though we looked here
and there as well as we could, there was no sign of the object of our
search; in fact, I soon began to feel that I had embarked upon an
enterprise that was almost an impossibility.

The river had now grown a little swifter, and though there was plenty of
swampy land down by its banks, it seemed as if we were getting into a
more elevated region, the margin being higher, and here and there quite
precipitous, but it was always more beautiful, and the objects of
natural history grew frequent every hour.

Now it was a squirrel, of which there seemed to be great numbers; then
all at once, as we were threading our way through the low bushes,
something sprang up from its lair and went bounding off among the trees,
giving me just a glimpse of a pretty head with large eyes and small
horns, before it was gone.

"Oh, Mass' George, you ought shoot dat," said Pomp, reproachfully.  "Dat
berry good to eat."

"If I had been on the look-out, I could not have hit it," I said.  "But
I say, Pomp," I continued, looking round as we came upon a high sandy
bluff through which the river had cut its way, and whose dry, sun-bathed
sides offered a pleasant resting-place, "aren't you tired?"

"No," said the boy, thoughtfully, "Pomp not bit tired, only one leg."

"Well, are you hungry then?"

"Dreffle, Mass' George.  You like emp de walletum now?"

"Yes, we'll sit down and have a good meal, and then we shall have to
make haste back."

"Top lil bit, Mass' George," said the boy, cautiously.

"Oh no, there are no pins and forns there to 'tick in us," I said.

"No, Mass' George, but dat sort o' place for rattle tailum 'nake.  I go
look fust."

I felt a shudder run through me at the mention of the noxious creature,
and brought the gun to bear as we advanced.

"No; no shoot," whispered the boy.  "Big 'tick bess for 'nake."

We advanced very cautiously, with our eyes searching the ground, but
there was nothing in sight, and after selecting a comfortable place
where the sand had slowly been washed down from the bluff till it lay
thick and dry as when it is drifted on the seashore, we sat down, the
fine grains feeling delightful to our limbs, and made a hearty meal of
the remains left in the wallet.

It was wonderfully still there, the trees being quite motionless, and
the only sounds heard being the hum of some insect and the ripple of the
water a dozen yards away.  High above us through the thin tracery of an
overhanging tree the sky looked of a brilliant blue, and away to left
and right extended the forest.

Pomp was lying face downwards, lazily scooping a hole in the sand, and
watching it trickle back as fast as he scraped it away, just as if it
were so much dry water in grains.  I was lying on my back where the sand
sloped up to the bank; and as I gazed at the trees, half expecting to
see our boat sticking somewhere up among the branches, it seemed to me
as if I had never felt so happy and contented before.  Perhaps it was
the soft, clear atmosphere, or the fact that I was resting, or that I
had just partaken of a pleasant meal.  I don't know.  All I can say is
that everything felt peaceful and restful; even Pomp, who as a rule was
like a piece of spring in motion.  There was a lovely pale blue haze in
the distance, and a warm golden glow nearer at hand; the sun was getting
well to the west; and I knew that we must soon start and walk fast, so
as to get back, but I did not feel disposed to move for a few minutes.

We should be able to walk so much better after a rest, I thought, and we
should not stop to look for the boat, or at anything, but keep steadily
walking on, so that it would not take us a quarter of the time; and if
night did come on, the moon would rise early, and we could easily get to
the house.

How deliriously faint and blue that looked right away there in the
distance, and how still it all was!  Even Pomp enjoyed the silence, and
I would not disturb him yet, but let him rest too.  No fear of any
snakes coming if we were there, and in a few minutes I'd jump up, tell
Pomp, and we'd go and have a delicious bathe, and dry ourselves in the
warm sand; that would make us walk splendidly.  But I would not wake him
yet--not just yet--I'd wake him presently, for he was so still that he
must have gone to sleep.  There he lay with his face to the sand, and
his fingers half buried in the hole he had been scraping.

"What a fellow he is to snooze!"  I thought to myself.  "Lucky I'm not
so ready to go to sleep.  How--how long shall I wait before I wake
him?--How long--how long--how--"



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

A jerk!  Then a hasty movement.  I must have left the window open, and a
fly or a beetle had got in and was tickling my ear.  Now it was on my
cheek--then on the other cheek--my neck again--my ear--my eyes--and
now--

"Ertchsshaw--ertchsshaw!"  It was right on my nose, and I start up to
brush it away, and in the gloom recognise the figure of Pomp, who burst
into a roar of laughter.

"Mass' George tiddle lil nigger; now lil nigger tiddle Mass' George."

"Why, Pomp," I said, sitting up and staring, "I--I thought I was at
home."

"No, Mass' George.  Home long a way.  Been sleep, and Pomp been sleep."

I shivered, got up, and stamped about.

"Yes, Mass' George, um dreffle cole."

"Here, get the powder and shot, and let's go back."

Pomp shook his head.

"No good go now.  Get 'tuck in de forn, or tumble in de ribber."

"But we must go."

"No see de way; an' all de big 'gator go out for walk now, Mass'
George."

"What time can it be?"

"Dunno, Mass' George, o'ny know not morrow mornin' yet."

I looked about me, and tried to make out the forest path by which we
should have to go; but all was dark as night could be, except overhead
where a faint gleam showed where the moon should have been giving her
light, had not the clouds and mist interposed.

I did not like the look of it, but on the other hand I was afraid to
give up; I knew that my father would be anxious, perhaps setting out in
search of me.

That last thought fixed me in my determination, and taking up the gun, I
said firmly--

"Come along."

"Mass' George go shoot somefin?"

"No; let's get back home."

"No get home now.  Too dark."

"But we must get home."

"Mass' George say muss get home, but de dark night say he no get home."

"Let's try," I said.

Pomp was obedience itself, and he followed me as I strode back to the
edge of the forest, entered the dense thicket close to the river, and
had not gone a hundred yards before just in front of me there was a
crashing, rustling noise, and a dull sullen plunge.

"I yah, ugly ole 'gator.  Take care, Mass' George, he don't hab you."

I felt my heart beat fast, but I tried to fix it upon my mind in the
foremost place that the reptiles fled from me, and were perhaps more
alarmed than I was; but as I pressed forward, Pomp suddenly said,
piteously--

"No got shoe like Mass' George.  Poor Pomp put him foot in 'gator mouf.
Oh!"

Pomp caught hold of me tightly, for from somewhere in front there came a
low snarling roar, which I had never before heard; but report had told
of different savage creatures which came down from the hills sometimes,
mountain lions, as the settlers called them, and to face one of these
creatures in the dark was too much for my nerves.

"It's unlucky," I said to Pomp; "but we can't get back to-night.  We had
better get out from among the trees."

Pomp wanted no second hint; he was behind, and he turned at once, and
led the way back to the sandy bluff, where he stood shivering.

"What was dat, Mass' George?"

"I don't know," I said.  "Some kind of great cat, I suppose."

"Pomp tink he know.  It great big monkey like in him country.  Great big
as fader, and big long arm, an um shout _ooooor_!  Like dat."

He uttered as deep-toned a roar as he could, and made a snatch at me
directly and held on, for from out of the forest came an answering roar
that sounded terrific to us, as we stood there shivering with cold and
fear.

"Mass' George!  Mass' George!" whispered Pomp, with his lips close to my
ear, "tell um I berry sorry.  I no do um no more."

"Hush!"  I said, and I stood ready with the gun presented, fully
expecting to see a dark shadowy form crawling over the light-coloured
sand, and trying to get within range for a spring.

But all was still once more, and we waited in expectancy for some
minutes before there was a great floundering splash in the water to our
right; and then away to the left where the river ran black and
mysterious in the night--where all was bright and beautiful by day--
there came evidently from three different parts as many bellows, such as
must have been given by alligators of great size.

"Come 'long, Mass' George," whispered Pomp.

"No," I said, "we must wait till day."

"Dey come and hab us bofe, Mass' George, we 'top here.  Come 'long."

"But it is impossible."

"Yes, Mass' George, um possible; come and get up dat big tree."

The proposition seemed so much in unison with my feelings that I
followed my companion at once, and he paused under a great oak a little
farther from the river, and beyond the bluff.

"Dah, Mass' George, make base up an' let me come.  I dreffle frighten."

"Then go first."

"No, Mass' George, you go firs', you de mas'r."

"Then I order you to go first, Pomp," I said.

"Den we bofe clime up togedder, Mass' George.  You go one way, and Pomp
go oder way."

There seemed to be no time for discussion on questions of precedent, so
we began to climb together, reaching a great branch about twenty feet
from the ground, no easy task for me, encumbered as I was by the gun.

"Ha ha!" cried Pomp, who seemed to have recovered his courage as soon as
he was up in the tree; "no 'gator catch um up here, Mass' George.
Nebber see 'gator, no, not eben lil 'gator, climb up tree."

"No," I said in a low tone, which impressed the boy so that he sat
speechless for some time; "no, but the panthers can, more easily than we
do, Pomp."

I don't know what sort of a shot I should have made; probably I should
have been too nervous to take good aim up there in the dark; but for
what seemed a terrible length of time I sat there gun in hand, ready to
fire at the first savage creature I could see, and a dozen times over I
conjured up something stealthily approaching.  But it was not until we
had been up there about an hour that I felt quite certain of some great
cat-like creature being beneath the tree.

It was not creeping forward, but crouched down as if watching us, ready
at our first movement to change its waiting attitude into one of
offence.

Pomp made no sign, but he was so still that I felt sure he could see it
too, and I was afraid to call his attention to it, lest it should bring
the creature on me so suddenly that it might disorder my aim.  So I sat
on with the piece directed at the object, my finger on the trigger,
hesitating, then determined to fire, when all at once it seemed to me
that the animal had grown plainer.

This, though I had not detected the movement, must mean that it was
getting nearer and about to spring, so casting all hesitancy to the
winds, I raised the gun to my shoulder, and then quite started, for Pomp
said aloud--

"Mass' George going shoot?"

"Yes," I said, in a husky whisper.  "Keep still; do you see it?"

"No.  Where be um?"

"There, there," I whispered; "down straight before us."

"What, dat?"

"Yes.  Be still, or you'll make it leap at us."

"Why, dat lil tree."

There was a tone of such astonishment in the boy's voice that I bent
lower and lower down, knowing how much better Pomp's eyes were than
mine; and as I looked, I saw that the object was clear, and that it was
indeed a low patch of shrub getting plainer and plainer rapidly now, for
it was morning once more.



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

"Now, Mass' George," said Pomp, as we stood at the foot of the tree, and
stamped about to get rid of the stiffness, and cold brought on by our
cramped position on the branch, "de fuss ting am breckfuss.  I so
dreffle hungry."

"But we ate everything last night," I said.

"Neb mind; plenty duck in de ribber.  You go shoot four lil duck, dat
two piece, while Pomp make fire to roace um."

"But how are we to get a light?"

"You see," he said, as he busily began to get together all the loose
sticks he could find lying about, at the same time showing me a stone
and his knife with a little bag full of tinder.  "I soon get light,
Mass' George; I get big fire much soon you get de duck."

The proposition was so sensible that I went off with the gun, and
following the course of the river beyond the bluff, I was not long
before I heard a familiar noise, and creeping forward in the grey dawn,
I was soon crouching behind the low growth by a wide pool of the river,
where quite a flock of ducks were disporting themselves, preening their
feathers, diving, making the bright drops run over their backs like
pearls, and ending by flapping and beating the water heavily with their
wings, exactly as I had seen them perform in the pond at home.

I waited my opportunity, lying flat now on my chest, and at last, after
nearly firing three or four times and always waiting for a better
chance, I drew trigger upon a knot of the ducks after getting several
well in a line.  There was a deafening report, a sensation as if my
shoulder was broken, and a thick film of smoke hid everything from my
sight.  But as the shot went echoing along the side of the forest, I
could hear the whistling and whirring of wings where the ducks flapped
along the water, rose, and swept away over the trees.  Then the smoke
rose, and to my great delight there lay five of the unfortunate ducks;
three perfectly still, and floating slowly to the shallow below the
pool, the other two flapping wildly and trying to reach the farther
shore.

To get the three was easy.  I had but to wait and then wade in over the
shallow to where I could see the sandy and pebbly bottom quite plain.
To get the wounded ducks meant a swim, and perhaps a long hunt.

"Better shoot at them again," I thought, when I shuddered, for something
dark appeared behind one; there was a snap, and it disappeared, while
almost at the same moment the other, which must have been nearly twenty
yards away, was suddenly struck down beneath the water by something
which puzzled me at first, but which the next minute I knew to be an
alligator's tail.

I turned to my three, now well over the shallows, and hesitated as to
whether I dared risk going after them, not knowing but that an alligator
might make a rush out of the deep black pool and seize them first, or
failing them perhaps seize me.

But I was hungry too, and leaping in, I secured all three birds after
splashing through the water a bit, and reached the shore again in
safety, but not without many an excited look round at the deep place
where I knew the monsters were lurking; and as I shook the water from my
legs, and stamped about on the bank, I found myself thinking what a pity
it was such a lovely country should be marred by dangerous beasts and
horrible reptiles like the rattlesnakes and alligators.

Then I thought of the ducks, and as I held them all three by their
orange legs, and looked down at their beautifully-coloured plumage, all
soft browns and chestnuts, and with wing-spots of lovely green, and
having a head of the same colour, my conscience smote me, and I found
myself wondering what the ducks thought that beautiful morning when they
were having their baths and preening themselves ready for a long flight
or a good swim.  And I seemed to see them all again playing about, and
passing their heads over their backs, and rubbing the points of their
beaks in the oil-gland to make their plumage keep off the water.  And
how soft and close it was!

"What must they have thought," I said to myself, "about a monster who
came with a horrible, fire-dealing weapon that strikes them down like a
flash of lightning?  Not much room for me to complain about the
alligators!"  I exclaimed.  "But if I had not killed the ducks they
would have killed all kinds of insects and little fishes, and if they
did not kill the insects and fishes, the insects and fishes would have
killed smaller ones.  Everything seems to be killing everything else,
and I suppose it's because we are all hungry, as I am now."

I walked sharply back along the river-bank with the sun now well up, and
before long came in sight of a little cloud of smoke rising softly above
the trees, and soon after I could hear the crackling of wood, and as I
drew near, there was Pomp dodging about in the smoke, piling up pieces
of dried stick, and making a roaring fire.

The sight of this took away all my feelings of compunction, and in
imagination I began to see the brown sides of the well-roasted ducks, to
smell their appetising odour, and to taste the juicy, tender bits about
the bones.

"I heard you shoot um, Mass' George," cried Pomp, excitedly.  "Got
lubbly fire.  How many?"

"Three," I said.

"Oh!"

"What's the matter?"

"On'y got flee.  Dat two Mass' George, and on'y one for Pomp, an' I so
dreffle hungly, I mose eat bit a 'gator."

"There'll be plenty," I said.  "I shall only eat one."

"Eh?  Mass' George on'y eat one duck-bird?"

"That's all."

"Mass' George sure?"

"Yes.  Let's cook them."

"But is Mass' George quite sure?"

"Yes--yes--yes!"

"Oh!  Den Mass' George hab dis bewfler one wid um green head.  Dat's
biggess and bess."

"Here, what are you going to do?"  I cried, as Pomp suddenly seized the
three ducks and threw them into the fire.  "That's not the way to roast
ducks."

"Pomp know dat, Mass' George," cried the boy, poking the birds about
with a long, sharp-pointed stick, one of several which he had cut ready.
"Pomp fader show um how to do ober dah."

"Ober dah" evidently meant Africa.

"Dat a way to get all de fedder off fuss.  Dah, see dat?" he cried, as
he turned one out scorched brown.  "Now Mass' George see."

As I watched him, he cleverly ran his sharp-pointed stick through this
first duck, stuck the point down into the sand, so that the bird was
close in to the glowing embers, and then deftly served the others the
same.

"Mass' George shoot um duck, Pomp cook um; same Pomp cook and make de
cake at home.  Pomp fader nebber cook.  Pomp cook de fis, and de yam,
and make um hominy.  Pomp berry clebber 'deed, Mass' George.  Ah, you
try burn you 'tick an' tummle in de fire, would you, sah?  No, you
don't!  You 'top dah an' get rock nice for Mass' George."

As he spoke he made a snatch at one of the sticks, and turned the bird,
as he stuck it afresh in the sand, closer to the glowing embers, for the
flame and smoke had nearly gone now, and the ducks were sputtering,
browning, and beginning to give forth a tempting odour.

As the boy was evidently, as he modestly said, so "clebber," I did not
interfere, but took off my shoes and stockings, wrung the latter well
out, and laid them and the shoes in the warm glow to dry, a little
rubbing about in the hot dry sand from the bluff soon drying my feet.
Then I carefully reloaded the gun, in accordance with Morgan's
instructions, making the ramrod leap well on the powder charge and wad,
while Pomp looked on eagerly, his fingers working, his lips moving, and
his eyes seeming to devour everything that was done.

"Pomp load um gun," he said all at once.

"You go on with your cooking," I replied; "that one's `burning um
'tick.'"

Pomp darted at the wooden spit, and drawing it out replaced it in a
better position.

"Dat duck lil rarksle," he said, showing his teeth.  "Dat free time try
to burn um 'tick and tummle in de fire, rock umself.  Dah, you 'tan
'till, will you?  Oh, I say, Mass' George, done um 'mell good?"

"Yes; they begin to smell nice."

"Dat de one hab green head.  He berry juicy 'deed; dat one for Mass'
George.  What Mass' George going to do?"

"Put the gun and powder and shot farther away from the fire."

"What for?"

"A spark might set the powder off."

"Oh!" ejaculated Pomp.  Then, "What powder do if 'park send um off?"

"Blow the fire out and send the ducks into the river."

"What?  An' de 'gator get um?  Pomp not cook de duck for 'gator.  'Gator
eat de duck raw, and no pick um fedder.  Take de gun away."

I was already doing so, and standing it up behind us against a patch of
low bushes, I hung the powder and shot pouches by their straps to the
iron ramrod.  Then going back to my place I sat watching the cooking, as
the boy turned and re-turned the birds, which grew browner and more
appetising every moment.

There were faults in that cooking, no doubt.  There was neither plate
nor dish, no bread, no salt or pepper, and no table-cloth.  But there
was something else--young, healthy appetite, as we sat at last in the
bright morning sunshine, drawn back now from the fire, Pomp and I, each
with a roasting-stick in one hand, his knife in the other, cutting off
the juicy brown bits, and eating them with the greatest of gusto, after
an incision had been made, and the whole of the hardened interior had
been allowed to fall out into the fire.

We hardly spoke, but went on eating, Pomp watching me and cutting the
bird exactly as I did mine; then picking each bone as it was detached
from the stick, and so on and on, till we had each finished his duck.
Our hands were not very clean, and we had no table napkins for our lips;
but as we ate that meal, I can safely say for myself that it was the
most delicious repast I ever had.

Then we sat perfectly still, after throwing our sticks into the remains
of the fire, reduced now to a few glowing embers.

But there is one thing more of which I must speak, that is the third
duck, which, certainly the best cooked and least burned of the three,
had been served to table; that is to say, its burnt stick had been stuck
in the sand between us, and there it was, nicely cooling down, and
looking tempting in the extreme.

Pomp looked at me, and I looked at Pomp.

"I dreffle glad we come an' 'top out all night," he said, showing his
white teeth.  "Mass' George, go an' shoot more duck, an' Pomp cook um."

"We haven't finished that one," I said.

"No, Mass' George, no hab finish dat oder duck."

"Well, go on; I've had quite enough."

"Pomp had quite nuff too."

"Then we'll wrap it up in the napkin, and we'll eat it by and by for
lunch."

"Yes; wrap um up an' eat um bime by."

I drew out the napkin, and Pomp shot the duck off the wooden spit on to
the cloth, which, with due care to avoid the addition of sand, was
folded up, and then I said--

"Now, Pomp, we must find the boat as we go back."

"Mass' George go back?" he said.

"Yes, of course; and get there as soon as we can."

"Yes, Mass' George," he said, sadly.  "Pomp wouldn't mind 'top if Mass'
George say 'top here."

"We'll come again," I said, laughing.  "Let's find the boat if we can,
but we must make haste back."

"Hi!  Ohey!" he shouted.

"What's the matter?"  I said.

"Wha dat all gun?"



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

I looked sharply round at the bush, hardly comprehending my black
companion's remark.

"What?"  I said, in a confused way.

"Wha dat gun?"

"I stood it up against that bush," I said; and then, shaking off the
dull stupid feeling which troubled me, darted to the bush, expecting to
see that it had slipped down among the little branches.

The gun was gone, and I looked round at the other bushes dotted about.

"I put it here, didn't I?"

"Yes; Mass' George put um gun dah.  Pomp know," he cried, running to me,
and dropping on his knees as he pointed to the impression left in the
dry sand by the butt.  "Gun gone down dah."

He began scratching up the sand for a few moments, and I watched him,
half hoping and believing that he might be right.

But the boy ceased as quickly as he had begun.

"I know, Mass' George," he cried, starting up and gazing toward the
river.  "'Gator 'fraid we come shoot um, and come out of de ribber and
'teal a gun."

"Nonsense!  An alligator wouldn't do that."

"Oh, I done know.  'Gator berry wicked ole rarksle."

"Where are the marks then?"  I said.

"Ah, Pomp find um foots and de mark of de tail."

He looked sharply round, so did I; but as he searched the sand I
examined the bushes, feeling that I must be mistaken, and that I must
have laid the gun somewhere else.

It was very stupid, but I knew people did make such mistakes sometimes;
and quite convinced now that this was a lapse of memory, began to cudgel
my brains to try and recall the last thing I had done with the gun.

Pomp settled that, for he came back to me suddenly, and said--

"See Mass' George put de gun dah!"

"You are sure, Pomp?"  I said, as he stood pointing his black finger at
the bush.

"Yes, Pomp ebber so sure."

"Did you find any alligator marks?"

"No, Mass' George, nowhere."

"Then some one must have come and stolen it while we were eating."

"How people come 'teal a gun wif Pomp and Mass' George eatin' um
breakfast here?"

"I don't know.  Come and look for footsteps."

"Did; and de 'gator not been."

"No, but perhaps a man has."

"Man?  No man lib here."

"Let's look," I whispered--"look for men's footsteps."

The boy glanced at me wonderingly for a moment or two, then nodded his
head and began to search.

Where we stood by the bush, saving that the ground had been trampled by
my feet, the task would have been easy enough, for everything showed in
the soft dry sand; but the bush was at the edge where the sand began
running from the foot of the bluff to the river, and everywhere on the
other side was dense growth; patches of shrubs, grass, dry reed and
rush, where hundreds of feet might have passed, and, save to the
carefully-trained eye of an Indian, nothing would have been seen.

Certainly nothing was visible to me, but the fact that it was quite
possible for a man to have crawled from the forest, keeping the patches
of shrubby growth between him and us, till he reached the bushes,
through which he could have cautiously stolen, and passing a hand over
softly, lifted the gun and its pouches from where I had stood them, and
then stolen away as he had come.

One thing was evident, we had an enemy not far away; and, unarmed as we
were, saving that we had our knives, the sooner we took flight the
better.

All this was plain to me, but as I gazed in Pomp's face I found it was
not so clear to him; there was a strange look in his eyes, his skin did
not seem so black as usual, and he was certainly trembling.

"Why, Pomp," I said, "don't look like that."  For though I felt a little
nervous, I saw no cause for the boy's abject dread, having yet to learn
that anything not comprehensible to the savage mind is set down at once
as being the work of some evil spirit.

He caught my arm and looked round, the whites of his eyes showing
strangely, and his thick lips seemed drawn in as if to make a thin line.

"Come 'way," he whispered.  "Run, Mass' George, run, 'fore um come and
cotch us."

"Who?  What?"  I said, half angrily, though amused.

"Hush!  Done holler, Mass' George, fear um hear.  Come take us bofe,
like um took de gun."

"I have it," I said suddenly.  "Your father has come up the river after
us, and he has taken the gun to tease us.  Hi!  Hannibal--Vanity--Van!"

"Oh, Mass' George!  Oh, Mass' George, done, done holler.  Not fader.
Oh, no.  It somefing dreffle.  Let run."

"Why isn't it your father playing a trick?"

"Him couldn't play um trick if him try.  No, Mass' George, him nebber
play trick.  It somefing dreffle.  Come 'way."

"Well, we were going back," I said, feeling rather ashamed of my
eagerness to get away, and still half uneasy about the gun, as I looked
up at the tree where we had slept to see if I had left it there.

No; that was impossible, because I had had it to shoot the ducks.  But
still I might have put it somewhere else, and forgotten what I had done.

I turned away unwillingly, and yet glad, if that can be understood, and
with Pomp leading first, we began our retreat as nearly as possible over
the ground by which we had come.

For some little distance we went on in silence, totally forgetting the
object of our journey; but as we got more distant from the scene of our
last adventure, Pomp left off running into bushes and against trees in
spite of my warnings, for he had been progressing with his head screwed
round first on one side then on the other to look behind him, doing so
much to drive away such terror as I felt by his comical aspect, that I
ended by roaring with laughter.

"Oh, Mass' George," he said, reproachfully, "you great big foolish boy,
or you no laugh like dat all.  You done know what am after us."

"No," I said; "but I know we lost one of our guns, and father will be
very cross.  There, don't walk quite so fast."

"But Pomp want to run," he said, pitifully.

"And we can't run, because of the bushes and trees.  I don't think there
was anything to be afraid of, after all."

"Oh!  Run, Mass' George, run!" yelled Pomp; and instead of running I
stood paralysed for an instant at the scene before me.

We were pretty close to the river-bank, and forcing our way through a
cane brake which looked just as if it must be the home of alligators,
when a man suddenly stood in the boy's path.

Quick as thought the brave little fellow sprang at him, seeing in him an
enemy, and called to me to run, which of course I did not do, but, as
soon as I recovered from my surprise, ran on to his help.  As I did so
the path seemed darkened behind me, I heard a quick rustling, my arms
were seized, and the next moment I was thrown down and a knee was on my
chest.

"Oh, Mass' George, why didn't you run?"

Poor Pomp's voice rang out from close beside me in despairing tones, and
I wrenched my head round, just catching a glimpse of him through the
canes.  Then I looked up in the stern faces of my captors, thinking that
I had seen them before, though no doubt it was only a similarity of
aspect that struck me, as I realised that we had fallen into the hands
of the Indians once more.

They did not give us much time to think, but after taking away our
knives twisted up some lithe canes and secured our wrists and arms
behind us, two holding each of us upright, while another fastened our
hands.

Then they drew back from us, and stood round looking at us as if we were
two curiosities.

"Well, this is a nice game, Pomp," I said at last.

"Yes, dis nice game, Mass' George.  Why you no run away?"

"How could I?"

"How you could?  You ought run, jump in libber and go 'cross.  Wish I
run and tell de capen an' Mass' Morgan."

"Ah!"  I ejaculated.

"You tie too tight, Mass' George?"

"Yes, but I was thinking of something else.  Pomp, those Indians are
going to attack our place and the settlement, and no one will know they
are coming."

"Pomp hope so," he said, sulkily, and screwing himself about with the
pain caused by his tight bonds.

"What?"

"Den de capen an' Mass' Morgan shoot um, an' Serb um right."

"But they will take them by surprise."

"Wait bit.  We soon get dese off, and go down tell 'em Injum come."

"I'm afraid we shall not have the chance."

Just then a firm brown hand was clapped on my shoulder, and a stalwart
Indian signed to me to go on through the canes.

I obeyed mechanically, seeing the while that the half-dozen Indians who
had captured us had silently increased to over a dozen quietly-moving,
stealthy-looking fellows, who passed through the dense thicket, almost
without a sound, and with their eyes watchfully turned in every
direction, as if they were always on the look-out for danger.  And so I
walked awkwardly on, feeling, now that my arms were bound behind me, as
if at any moment I should stumble and fall.

The mystery of the gun's disappearance was clear enough now, without the
proof which came later on.  It was quite plain to me that some of these
strange, furtive-looking savages had crawled up behind the bush and
carried off the piece, after which they had lain in ambush waiting for
us to retrace our steps along the track we had broken down the previous
day, and then pounced upon us and made us prisoners.

At my last encounter they had contented themselves with following us
home, but now everything seemed to betoken mischief.  They seemed to me
to be better armed, and had begun to treat us roughly by binding our
arms, and this it struck me could only mean one thing--to keep us from
getting away and giving the alarm.

I felt too now--for thoughts came quickly--that the report of the gun
that morning had guided them to our temporary camp, that and the smoke
of the fire; and as I felt how unlucky all this was, I found that we
were getting farther and farther from the river, and in a few minutes
more we were in an open portion of the wood, where about fifty more
Indians were seated about a fire.

A shout from our party made them all start to their feet and come to
meet us, surrounding and staring at us in a fierce, stolid way that sent
a chill through me as the question rose--Would they kill us both?

In a dull, despondent way the answer seemed to me--_yes_; not just then,
for we were both placed back against a young tree, and hide ropes being
produced, we were tightly bound to the trunks and left, while the
Indians all gathered together in a group, squatted down, and sat in
silence for a time smoking.

Then all at once I saw one jump up, axe in hand, to begin talking
loudly, gesticulating, waving his axe, and making quite a long address,
to which the others listened attentively, grunting a little now and
then, and evidently being a good deal influenced by his words.

At last he sat down and another took his place, to dance about, talking
volubly the while, and waving his axe too, and evidently saying
threatening things, which, as he pointed at us now and then, and also in
the direction of the settlement, I felt certain must relate to their
expedition.

In spite of my anxiety about my fate, I could not help feeling
interested in these people, for everything was so new and strange.  But
other thoughts soon forced themselves upon me.  They must, I felt, be
going on to the settlement, and it was my duty at any cost to get away,
and give the alarm.  But how?

"Pomp," I said, after a time, "do you think we could get loose and run
back home?"

The boy looked at me with his face screwed up.

"Pomp done know," he said.

"Could you get the knots undone?"

"Pomp 'fraid try.  Come and hit um.  Going to kill us, Mass' George?"

"Oh, no; I don't think there's any fear of that."

"Then why they tie us up?"

"Don't talk so loud.  It makes them look round."

"Look dah!"

"What at?"

"Dah de gun.  Dat big ugly Injum got um.  Him fief."

"Never mind the gun," I said.  "Let's think about getting away."

"Yes; dat's what Pomp do fink about, Mass' George."

"If they had not taken our knives, I might perhaps have cut ourselves
free.  Oh, I'd give anything to let them know at home.  Look here; if
you can get loose, never mind about me; run back home, and warn my
father to escape to the settlement."

"You tell um," said Pomp, shortly.

"But I mean if you can get free without me."

"What, you fink Pomp run 'way and leab Mass' George all 'lone?"

"Yes; it is to save those at home."

"Capen flog um for going."

"No, no; he would not."

"Fader knock um down an' kick um."

"I tell you he would not.  Try all you can to get loose and creep away
when they are not looking."

"Always looking," said Pomp, shortly; and it was quite true, for some
one or other of the Indians always seemed to be on the watch, and after
trying to wrench myself clear, I stood resting my aching legs by hanging
a little on the rope, for the hours were slowly gliding by, and
afternoon came without relief.

At last a couple of the men brought us some water and a piece each of
badly-roasted and burned deer-flesh, setting our hands at liberty so
that we could eat and drink, but leaving the hide ropes holding us
tightly to the trees, and sitting down to watch us, listening intently
as we spoke, but evidently not understanding a word.

"Well," I said, after a few minutes, during which I had been eating with
very poor appetite, "why don't you eat, Pomp?"

"Done like um.  'Mell nasty."

"It's only burnt," I said.

"How Mass' George know what um eat?"

"What?"  I said, looking curiously at the meat.

"Pomp fink it poor lil nigger been kill and cook um."

"Nonsense; it's deer's flesh."

"Mass' George sewer?"

"Yes, quite."

"Oh!"

That was all the boy said, for he set to work directly and soon finished
his portion, taking a good deep drink afterward; and as soon as he had
done one of the Indians secured his hands again, a task which
necessitated a loosening of the hide rope, Pomp submitting with a very
good grace.

Then came my turn, and as soon as I was secured, the Indians went slowly
back to where the others were grouped, and squatted down to listen to
the talking going on.

It was a weary, weary time; the sun was getting lower, and birds came
and chirped about in the dense branches of the trees to which we were
bound, and I felt a strange feeling of envy as I looked up from time to
time and thought of their being at liberty to come and go.  And all
through those painfully long hours the talking went on constantly about
the fire, which one or the other of the Indians made up by throwing on
some branches of wood.

As I watched them, I saw that they kept going and coming in different
directions, so that the number in the camp did not vary much, and though
the day wore on, there was no cessation of the talking, for there was
always a fresh Indian ready to leap to his feet, and begin relating
something with the greatest vehemence, to which the rest listened
attentively.

"They must be going on to the settlement to-night," I thought; and as I
noted their bows, arrows, axes, and knives, I conjured up horrors that I
felt would be sure to take place if we could not get free and give the
alarm.

All sorts of plans occurred to me.  The forest would, I felt, be full of
the enemy, and if we could get loose there would be no chance of our
stealing away without being captured.  But could we get across the river
in safety, and make our way along the farther bank; or could we swim
down?  I shuddered as I thought of what would be the consequences of
trying such a feat.

Then my ponderings were interrupted by the coming of a couple more of
the Indians, who examined our fastenings and then went back.

"Mass' George 'leep?" said Pomp suddenly, in a low voice.

"Asleep?  No.  Who could go to sleep like this?"

"No, not nice go 'leep 'tanning up," said Pomp, coolly; and there was a
long pause, with the monotonous talking of the Indians still going on.

All at once one of the Indians who had last examined our bonds came
back, peeping about him inquiringly, examining our ropes, and looking
about our feet for some minutes before going back, carefully scanning
the ground and bushes as he went, and after a good deal of hesitation
reseating himself.

By this time I was utterly wearied out, and hung forward from the rope
with my head upon my chest, gazing down hopelessly at the thick moss and
other growth at our feet.

"Mass' George 'leep?" whispered Pomp again.

"No, no," I said, sadly; "I could not sleep at a time like this."

"'Cause Mass' George no go to sleep."

I looked at him despondently, and saw that he was amusing himself by
picking the moss and leaves with his toes, getting a tuft together,
snatching it off, and dropping it again, almost as cleverly as a monkey
would have done the same thing.

Then I ceased to notice it, for I saw a couple of the Indians get up
from the fireside, and come to examine us again.  They felt all the
knots, and appeared satisfied, going back to the fire as before, while
others threw on fresh sticks.  Then the smoking and talking went on, and
the flames cast their shadows about, and on the trees now in a
peculiarly weird way.

We were almost in darkness, but they were in what seemed to be a circle
or great halo of red light, which shone upon their copper-coloured
skins, and from the axes and the hilts of the knives they had stuck in
the bands of their deer-skin leggings.

"Soon be quite dark now, Mass' George," whispered Pomp; "den you see."

"See?  See what?  Their fire?"

"Wait bit--you see."

My heart gave a great throb, and I wanted to speak, but the words in my
agitation would not come.  It was evident that the boy had some plan
afoot, and as I waited for him to speak again, feeling ashamed that this
poor black savage lad should be keener of intellect than I, he suddenly
began to laugh.

"Pomp," I whispered, "what is it?"

"You mose ready, Mass' George?"

"Ready?  What for?"

"You see dreckerly.  You know what dat Injum look about for?"

"No."

"Lose um knife."

"Well?"

"Pomp got um."

"You have?  Where?"

"Down dah," he said, making a sign with one foot toward the loose moss
and leaves he had picked.

"Why, Pomp," I whispered, joyfully, "how did you manage that?"

"Ciss!  Coming."

Two of the Indians had risen again from the fire, and once more
approached, feeling the knots, and to my despair, binding us more
securely with a couple of fresh ropes of hide.

Then I saw their dark figures go half way to the fire, return and pass
near us, and out along the banks of the river toward the settlement.

Then six more rose and went slowly out of sight among the trees, and I
felt that these must be going to form outposts to guard the little camp
from attack.

"Now, Mass' George," whispered Pomp--"ah, look dah."

I was already looking, and saw that about a dozen more left the fireside
to go out in different directions, their tall dark figures passing out
of sight among the trees.

"What are you going to do with the knife?"  I whispered softly.

"'Top; you see," said the boy.

"But how did you get it?"

"You see dat Injum come feel de rope.  He 'tuck Pomp head down under um
arm while he tie de knot hurt um, so Pomp mean to bite um; but Pomp see
de handle ob de knife 'tick up close to um mouf, and um take hold wid um
teef, pull um out, and let um fall and put um foot ober um."

"Oh, Pomp!"  I said.

"Den he gone, Pomp push um out ob sight and put um foot ober um again,
and now I juss pick um up wid Pomp toe."

I heard a faint rustle, and then he whispered after a faint grunting
sound--

"Got um."

I stared sidewise at where he was--only about six feet away--and half
fancied that I could see him pick up the knife with his toes, and bend
his foot up till he could pass the blade into his hand.

"Hff!"

"What's the matter?"  I whispered, as I heard a faint ejaculation.

"Pomp cut umself."

Then I heard a curious sawing sound, which seemed to be loud enough to
reach the Indians' ears, but as I looked, they were all talking, and I
turned my eyes again in the direction of my companion, whose black body
and light drawers had stood out plainly in the faint glow of the fire a
minute before, and I could only just restrain an exclamation, for he was
not there.

At the same moment his lips were at my ear--

"'Tan 'till."

I obeyed, and felt the tension and loosening as he rapidly cut through
the hide rope and the cane bonds which held me; but I was so stiff, and
my wrists were so numbed, that the feeling had gone from my hands.

"Mass' George ready?"

"No; yes," I said, as I gazed wildly at the group about the fire, and
felt that our movements must be seen.  But the Indians made no sign, and
Pomp went on--

"Injum ebberywhere now.  Can't run away."

"But we must," I whispered.

"Catchum gain, dreckerly.  Dis here tree.  Mass' George go up fuss."

"Up the tree!"  I faltered.

Then grasping the cleverness of the boy's idea, I stretched out my arms,
seized a branch overhead, and in spite of my numbness, swung myself up
and stood on it, holding by the branch of the great pine close behind
the two small trees to which we had been bound.

Pomp was beside me directly.  "Up!" he whispered; and as silently as I
could, I crept on toward the dense crown, the many horizontal branches
giving good foot-hold, and the fire gleaming among the needle-like
foliage as I went higher, with Pomp always ready to touch me and try to
guide.

It was a huge tree, quite a cone of dense foliage, after we were some
distance up, and we had just reached the part where great, flat,
heavily-laden boughs spread between us and the ground, when Pomp drew
himself quickly to my side, and laid his hand on my mouth.

It was not necessary, for at the same moment as he I had noted the
danger, just catching sight of two black shadows on the ground, which I
knew were those of a couple of the Indians approaching our trees from
the fire.

Then we could see no more, but remained there clinging to the boughs as
if part of the tree itself, wondering what was to come.

It seemed quite a space of time before from just below I heard a
discordant yell which thrilled through me, and actually for the moment
made me loose my hold.  But I was clinging fast again directly, as the
yell was answered by a couple of score of throats; there was the rapid
beat of feet, the crunching of dead sticks and crushing of bushes, and I
clung there with closed eyes, listening to a confused gabble of excited
voices, and waiting for what I seemed to know would come next.

For in my excitement I could in fancy picture the Indians examining the
cut thongs lying where they had dropped by the trees, and then one great
stalwart fellow took a step out from the rest and pointed up to where we
two clung forty feet from the ground, and I saw a score of arrows fitted
to the bow-strings, and their owners prepare to shoot and bring us down.

I cannot attempt to describe the sensation that thrilled through me in
what was almost momentary, nor the wild thoughts flashing in my brain.
I only know that I wondered whether the arrow which pierced me would
hurt much, and thought what a pity it was that the tree we were in did
not hang over the stream, so that we might have fallen in the water.

But no flight of arrows rattled among the boughs, and all we heard was
the gabble of excited voices.  Then came yell after yell from a little
distance farther away from the settlement, and from the excited
questioning which seemed to follow, I knew that a number of the Indians
had returned to the camp to talk hurriedly to those beneath the tree.

Then there were a couple of yells given in a peculiar tone, and a faint
series of sounds reached us, suggesting to me that the whole party had
spread out, and were quickly and cautiously creeping along through the
forest from the edge of the stream for some distance in, and then all
was still.



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

A pair of warm lips at my ear made me start again.

"Dey all 'tupid, dem Injum.  I know dey nebber tink we get up tree.
Think we run home.  All gone.  Come down."

"No, no; it is not safe," I whispered.

"Yes; all gone dat way.  We go oder."

He was already descending almost as rapidly as a monkey, and I followed
as fast as I could, fully expecting to be seized; but all was silent,
and the fire had sunk quite low as we bent down and crept along by the
edge of the opening, and directly after were well in the shelter and
darkness of the trees, with the fire behind only making its presence
known by a dull glow.

"Where are you going?"  I whispered at last.

"Get away from Injum.  Come!"

He said this shortly, and I began thinking that it was our wisest course
to get right away, and, as soon as we could find a spot at daybreak,
cross to the other side, and then try to thread our way back home.  But
a curiously dull, deadening feeling came over me, as I felt that the
Indians must now get there first, and that we should be too late to give
the alarm.

I was just thinking this when Pomp stopped short.

"Mass' George take off um shoes," he whispered.  "Carry um.  Injum no
see footmarks a-morrow."

I hurriedly did as he suggested, for there was wisdom in what he said,
and I hoped that the print of my stockinged feet, if our trail was found
and followed, might pass for the impressions made by moccasins.

I did not know much then about such matters, but still I had heard a
good deal of talk about the skill of the Indians in tracking, and
naturally felt nervous as I immediately began magnifying their powers,
and fancied that as soon as it was day they would take up our trail like
a pack of hounds, and follow it step by step, first my clumsy
shoe-prints, then Pomp's bare feet, with the great toe spreading wide
out from the others, which all seemed long and loose, as I had often
noticed and laughed at when I had seen them in the mud or sand.  In
fact, I had more than once followed him by his footprints, and as I
recalled all this, I seemed to see the fierce-looking savages coming on
swiftly, and urged Pomp to make haste, though my heart sank as I felt
that every step took us farther into the wilderness, and with the
exception of the knife the boy had secured, we were without arms.

"Can't go no fasser, Mass' George," he said; "so dark.  But done you be
'fraid.  Dem on'y 'tupid savage.  Pomp too clebber let um cotch him
'gain."

In spite of my anxiety I could not help smiling at my companion's
conceit, and his reference to "'tupid" savages.  Pomp's connection with
civilisation was making its mark upon him in other ways beside the rapid
manner in which he had acquired our tongue.

And so we tramped on hour after hour, going, as I knew by the stars
whenever we got a glimpse of them, nearly due west, and trying to avoid
breaking branch or trampling down thick patches of growth by making a
detour.

Of course this hindered us a good deal, but still it was the surest way
of avoiding recapture; and at last, after our long, weary walk, whose
monotony I had relieved by softly chafing my arms and wrists to get rid
of the remains of the numbness produced by the bonds, there came a
familiar note or two from the trees overhead, and I knew that in a very
short time it would be light.

"Tired, Pomp?"  I said.

"No, Mass' George, but I dreffle hungly 'gain.  Oh!  Dem ugly tief 'teal
de gun.  No get duck for breakfass, eh?"

"Let's think about escaping and getting back to the house before these
savages.--Ah, it's getting light."

I remember how eagerly I said this, as I saw the pale grey appearing
through the leaves, and making the tall, gloomy-looking trunks stand up
like great columns in all directions.

"Now," I said, "where do you think the river is?"

"Ober dah," said Pomp, without a moment's hesitation; and he pointed to
the left.

"Is it far?"

"No, not far."

"Let's get to it at once then."

We struck off again, bearing to the left, and just at sunrise found that
we were at the edge of the forest once more, with a well-defined track,
showing where the river ran.  Where we stood we were under the shade of
the great trees, where scarcely anything grew beneath the spreading,
tangled branches, while just beyond them there was a dense thicket of
succulent growth glittering in the sunshine, where the leaves were still
moist with dew, and some hundred or a hundred and fifty yards away there
once more was the other edge of the forest, rising up over a rich band
of growth similar to that which was close to where we stood.

The river lay between, I knew, though invisible from where we stood; and
for the moment I felt more hopeful, for, after the long, dark tramp
through the wilderness, we seemed to be now on the broad high-road which
led straight past home.

Then my heart sank again, as I felt that perhaps the Indians were
already on our track, and that even if they were not, they were between
us and safety.

My reverie was interrupted by Pomp, who said briskly--

"Now, Mass' George, what you tink?"

"We must get across the river at once."

Pomp made a grimace.

"How we 'wim ober dah wid de 'gator all awaiting to hab us for
breakfass, Mass' George?"

I shuddered as I thought of the task, but it seemed as if that was the
only thing to do, and then tramp along the opposite bank downward.

"What are you doing?"  I said, as the boy began to step about,
cautiously penetrating once more into the forest, and stopping at last
beside a moderate-sized pine, whose trunk was dotted with the stumps of
dead branches, till about fifty feet from the ground, where it formed a
pretty dense tuft, whose top was well in the sunlight.

"Now we go up dah and hide, and rest a bit."

"But why not try that tree, or that, or that?"  I said; and I pointed
rapidly to three or four more, all far more thickly clothed with branch
and foliage.

"If Injum come he fink p'raps we hide in dah, an' look.  No fink we get
up dat oder tree.  Injum berry 'tupid."

"But hadn't we better try and get across or down the stream?"

Pomp shook his head.

"See Injum, and dey dreffle cross dat we run 'way.  Wait a bit, Mass'
George."

"But my father--yours--and Morgan?"

"Well, what 'bout um, Mass' George?"

"We ought to warn them."

"Dey must take care ob demself.  No good to go and be caught.  Dat not
help um fader."

There was so much truth in this that I did not oppose Pomp's plan of
getting up in the tree, and hiding until the pursuit was over.  For it
was only reasonable to suppose that after a thorough hunt in one
direction, the Indians would come in the other.  Besides, I was utterly
wearied out the previous evening, and glad to rest my tired limbs by
hanging against the rope, and taking the weight off my feet.  Since then
we had tramped through the night many dreary miles, made more painful by
the constant stress of avoiding obstacles, and the sensation of being
hunted by a pack of savages whose cries might at any moment rise upon
the ear.

It was not a comfortable resting-place for one who felt as if he would
give anything to throw himself down and lie at full length, but it
promised to be safe, and following Pomp's lead, I climbed steadily up
the tree to where the dense head formed quite a scaffolding of crossing
boughs, and here, after getting well out of sight of any one who might
be passing below, we seated ourselves as securely as possible, and
waited for what was to come next.

"Wait Injum gone, and we kedge fis' and roast um for dinner," said Pomp;
and then we sat for some little time in silence, listening for the
slightest sound.

Birds we heard from time to time, and now and then the rustle of a
squirrel as it leaped from bough to bough, but nothing else till there
were, one after the other, four ominous splashings in the river, which
gave me a very uncomfortable feeling with regard to crossing to the
other side, and I looked at Pomp.

"Dat 'gators," he said shortly.  "No 'wim cross de ribber."

Then quite a couple of hours must have passed, and Pomp began to fidget
about terribly, making so much noise that if the Indians had been
anywhere at hand, they must have heard.

"Hush!"  I said; "sit still."

"Can't, Mass' George," he said sharply.  "I so dreffle hungly."

"Yes, so am I.  What are you going to do?"

"Get down again.  Injum no come now."

I hesitated; and as I was heartily sick of waiting, and famished, I made
myself believe that our enemies were not pursuing us, and descended
quickly to look at my companion.

"What we do now, Mass' George--kedge fis?"

"If we can," I said; "but how?"

"Pomp show Mass' George."

He led on through the thick growth just outside the forest edge, and
looking sharply from side to side, soon pitched upon a couple of long,
thin, tapering canes, which he hacked off and trimmed neatly, so that
they formed a pair of very decent fishing-rods, and he looked at me
triumphantly.

"Dah!" he said.

"But where are the hooks and lines?"

Pomp's face was wonderful in its change.

"Wha de hookum line?" he said.

"Yes, you can't catch fish like that."

Scratching the head when puzzled must be a natural act common to all
peoples, for the boy gave his woolly sconce a good scratch with first
one hand and then the other.

"Dat berry 'tupid," he said at last; "Pomp no 'tink of dat.  What we do
now?"

I stood musing for a few minutes as puzzled as he was.  Then the bright
thought came, and I took the lighter of the two canes, cut off the most
pliant part, and then tearing my silk neckerchief in thin strips, I
split the end of the cane, thrust in the haft of the knife, so that it
was held as by a fork, and bound the cane tightly down the length of the
knife-handle, and also below, so that the wood should split no farther;
and as the knife was narrow in blade, and ran to a sharp point, we now
had a formidable lance, with shaft fully twelve feet long.

"There!"  I said triumphantly in turn, as I looked at Pomp.

"'Tick um froo de fis?" he said.

"Yes.  We must find some deep pool, and see if we cannot spear
something, so as to be food for the day."

"Mass' George 'tick um fis, Pomp find um."

I nodded, eager enough to try and get something in the way of food, so
that we might be better able to bear our day's journey, for I felt that
somehow we must get back; but I always hesitated from starting, lest we
should be seen by pursuing Indians, and being recaptured, have no chance
of giving the alarm at home.

Pomp was not long in finding a deep hole close under the bank, in whose
clear, tree-shaded water I could see about a dozen fish slowly gliding
about.  They were only small, but anything was food for us then; and
introducing my lance cautiously, I waited my opportunity, and then
struck rapidly at a fish.

Vain effort!  The fish was out of reach before the point of the knife
could reach him; and a few more such strokes emptied the hole, but not
in the way I intended.

"Find another," I said; and Pomp crept along, and soon signed to me to
come.

As he made way for me, and I crept to the edge, I felt a thrill of
pleasure, for there, close under the bank, just balanced over some
water-weed, was a fine fish about a foot and a half long.

"If I can get you," I thought, "we shall do."

Carefully getting my spear-shaft upright, I lowered the point, and
aiming carefully, I struck.

Whether I aimed badly, or the refraction of the water was not allowed
for, I cannot say, but there was no result.  I only saw a quivering of
the surface and the fish was off into the river.

The same result for a dozen more tries, and then Pomp said
protestingly--

"I nebber tink dat ob any good."

"But it is good if I could strike one," I said, testily.

"Um on'y tummle off 'gain, Mass' George."

"Never mind; try and find another good hole, I'll do it yet."

He gave his head a rub and went on along the river-side, peering among
the overhanging bushes, and one way and another we made a trail that any
one could have followed; but likely holes and pools were scarce now, and
I was getting hot, faint, and weary, when, after creeping close to the
edge of the stream again, Pomp signed to me to give him the lance.

I hesitated for a moment, not liking to give up, but ended by passing
the spear; and, taking it, Pomp lay flat down, crept to the edge where
the bank overhung the river, as it proved, very gently thrust his eyes
beyond, drew back, and quickly picked a good-sized bunch of long grass,
which he bound at one end, opened the bunch at the other, and put it on
like a cap, the result being that the long grassy strands hung right
over his face loosely.

He laughed at me, and crept back again, moving his head slowly to and
fro for a few moments, as if to get the occupants of the pool used to
his presence.

Then very slowly and cautiously he manipulated the lance shaft, so that
it was upright, and holding it with both hands lowered the point down
and down till six feet had disappeared, then seven, eight, nine at
least; and as I was thinking how deep it must be down there, the long
cane became stationary, with the boy's hands holding it above his head.

I stood leaning forward, wondering what luck he would have, and full of
hope, for I was too hungry to feel envious and hope that he would miss.
But still he did not strike, and the moments glided on till I was
getting quite out of patience, and about to creep forward and look down
to see how big the fish might be, when, quick as thought, down went the
shaft with a tremendous dig, and then, with the cane quivering
exceedingly, Pomp seemed to be holding something he had pinned tightly
down against the bottom, till its first fierce struggles were at an end.

"Got him?"  I exclaimed, joyfully.

"Pomp 'tick knife right froo um," he panted; and then springing up, he
rapidly drew the shaft from the water, hand over hand, till, to my
intense astonishment, he raised to the bank, muddy, dripping, and
flapping heavily, the largest terrapin I had seen, and putting his foot
upon it, he drew out the spear, which had transfixed it right in the
middle of the back.

"Dah!" he exclaimed; and seizing his capture, he led the way into the
forest, where, risking discovery, we soon had a fire of dead sticks and
pine-needles blazing merrily over the shell of our terrapin, off which
we made at last, if not a good meal, a sufficiently satisfying one to
give us spirit for trying to get back home.



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

"Now, Pomp," I said, after we had each lain down and had a good hearty
drink of clear water, "the way to get home is to make a raft and float
down the river."

"Don't want raft--want um boat," he said.

"Do you know what a raft is?"  I said.

"No, Mass' George."

I explained to him, and he shook his head.

"'Gator come and pick Pomp and Mass' George off."

"We must make it so big that they could not."

"How make big raft?--no chopper to cut down tree."

"We must cut down and tie together bundles of canes," I said, after a
long pause, well occupied by thinking.  "They will bear us if we lie
down upon them.  We have a knife; let's try."

It was no easy task to get the knife free, for the threads by which it
was bound into the split end of the cane had swollen; but it was clear
at last, and selecting a suitable spot where the shore was quite a cane
brake, we toiled away cutting and tying together bundle after bundle of
canes, till we had six which roughly resembled as many big trusses of
straw.  These we secured to four of the stoutest canes we could find,
passing them through the bands crosswise, and after a good deal of
difficulty, and at the risk of undoing our work, we managed to thrust it
off the bank into the river, where, to my great delight, upon trying it,
the buoyancy far exceeded my expectations.  In fact, though we could not
have stood upon it, lying down it supported us well, and without any
hesitation, after cutting a couple of light poles for steering or
directing, we thrust off from the side, and began gliding down the
stream.

From that moment it seemed as if our troubles were over, for we had
little difficulty in keeping well out from the overhanging boughs, while
a thrust or two with our poles enabled us to avoid fallen trees and
patches of growth rising from the river shallows.

I soon felt convinced that if the bands we had made would hold out, we
should have no difficulty in floating down, for I could recall no rapids
or falls likely to give us trouble.  Certainly we had seen nor heard
neither.  Our risks were from the collapse of our raft, from the
reptiles that we kept seeing from time to time as we glided slowly on,
and from the Indians, whom, as I scanned the bank, I expected moment by
moment to see start from the dense growth which fringed the sides with a
yell.

If we could have felt secure, the ride down the river would have been
delightful, for it was all in the bright sunshine, with a wall of the
loveliest verdure on either side.  Flowers hung in clusters, or sprang
from the moist banks; birds flitted here and there, and every now and
then some great heron or crane sprang up with flapping wings and harsh
cry at being disturbed while fishing.

But every now and then an excited movement on the part of Pomp told me
that an alligator was in sight, sunning himself on a shoal, or where he
had beaten down the reedy growth as he had crawled out upon the bank.

Such movements on the boy's part were perilous, the side of the raft
going down slowly and steadily, till I forced him to lie still.

"They will not touch us," I said, "unless we are struggling in the
water.  Do you want to fall in or upset the raft?"

He shuddered, and his eyes rolled a little, but he lay still, and we
glided on till we must have gone down a couple of miles, when all at
once Pomp uttered a cry.

"Hush!"  I said, despairingly.  "You will be heard."

"Nebber mind.  Quick, Mass' George!  Push!  Push!"

I could not understand what he meant, but it was evident that something
was wrong, and there was no time to ask for an explanation; so I helped
all I could to push the raft toward the farther shore, convinced that
the Indians were upon us, and that we must seek safety in the forest
once again.

It was easy enough to float with the stream, but hard work to make the
raft to move as we wished, and we must have gone down fully a hundred
yards farther before there was a chance to seize an overhanging branch,
and tow the raft to a clear piece of the farther bank, on to which Pomp
scrambled at once.

"Quick, Mass' George, quick!" he cried; and leaving me to follow, he
disappeared at once in the dense cane and bush.

I was not long in following; and as I got ashore I saw the raft caught
by an eddy, as it rose relieved from my weight, and as I plunged into
the thicket I had a glimpse of it being carried out into the swift
stream.

I was too much excited and hurried to follow Pomp, whom I heard crashing
on before me, to pause to think about our retreat being now cut off by
water, unless we made a new raft.  The Indians must be there within
view, I felt; but why did no arrows come; and why did not my companion
plunge at once into the forest?

The explanation came directly, as I struggled on, seeing my route marked
by trampled down reed and broken twig, for Pomp suddenly shouted--

"I got um, Mass' George."

What had he got?  Something eatable, I felt, for he was always hungry;
and to obtain this we had lost our raft, and should have all the work to
do over again.

"Hush!"  I whispered, angrily; "you will be heard."

"Done matter now," came from close at hand, though I could see nothing
yet.  "Pomp fine um."

I struggled out of the low brushwood, and came into a more open part of
the bank, and there stood in astonishment, to find my companion dancing
with delight, and pointing to where, six feet above my head, just as it
had been left by the subsiding of the water, and on a nearly even keel,
was the lost boat, perched among the bushes, and apparently none the
worse for its journey.

"Oh, Pomp!"  I cried, as excited now as he, "this is a find."

"See juss lit' bit ob um back up dah, Mass' George," he said.  "Come try
and get um down."

I beat and pressed down the bushes as much as I could, and together we
reached the stern of the boat; but as I touched it a fresh thought arose
to damp my spirits.

There was the boat, but in what condition was it?  It did not seem
possible that it could have been drifting about in that flood and left
here without damage--a hole made by some jagged projecting tree branch,
or a plank started.

"Now den, Mass' George, pull."

I dragged at the stem, and then uttered a warning cry and threw myself
back, for the boat was so lightly perched on the bushes that it came
down with a rush, and as we started up again, and examined it, as far as
I could see it was completely uninjured, and even the oars were in their
places beneath the thwarts.

The rest of the journey toward the water was not quite so easy, but we
tugged and lifted, and by degrees got it on the few yards farther, and
at last had the satisfaction of sending it crashing down into a bed of
reedy growth, and springing in to push it onward into the stream, where,
once clear of the dense water grasses, it began to glide down easily and
well.

Now that the excitement of the discovery and launching of the boat was
over, it all seemed to have been a kind of day-dream; and though I took
my seat on a thwart, and got an oar over the side, I could hardly
believe it real till I recalled that it was possible that our actions
had all been watched, and that amongst the trees and bushes of the other
side dozens of keen eyes might be aiming arrows at us, and the oar
almost dropped from my hand.

Pomp was thinking of our enemies too, for, as he got his oar over the
side, and was looking down stream, he exclaimed suddenly--

"Yah!  Who 'fraid now?  Look, Mass' George, dat big ugly ole 'gator,
dah."

"Pomp!"  I cried, in an excited whisper; and I half rose to fling myself
down, to lie in shelter of the boat's side.

For at that moment, from some distance off, came a cry that I recognised
as an Indian yell.



CHAPTER THIRTY.

I do not suppose that many who read this have ever heard a Red Indian's
cry, and I hope those who have not never will.  It was no doubt invented
on purpose to scare an enemy, and it answers its purpose thoroughly.

To me it sounded blood-curdling, and a curious sensation ran through me,
as if the blood was chilling in my veins.  But on thinking of it
afterwards, I did not believe that it curdled, and on talking the matter
over just before sitting down to write this narrative of my boyish
adventures, my doctor said it was all nonsense; that the sensation was
produced by the nerves, and that if a body's blood curdled there would
be an end of him at once.

Of course the doctor was right, for the effect of that cry was to make
me drop down in the boat again, whisper to Pomp to pull, and row with
all my might.

Then another yell came from our right, and was answered from the forest,
the Indian who shouted evidently being not very far away.

"Hear dat, Mass' George?" said Pomp.

"Yes; pull hard.  It is the Indians."

"Well, who car' for old Injum?  Dey can't cotch us now."

"Don't be too sure," I whispered.  "There may be some of them waiting to
shoot at us with their bows and arrows."

Pomp turned his head quickly over his right shoulder to look at the low
bushes and reedy plants by the river-bank, and in doing so thrust his
oar too deeply down, with the result that he received a blow in the
chest, his legs rose up in the air, and his head went down between my
legs.

He lay on his back for a moment staring wildly up at me over his
forehead, his eyes rolling and his mouth wide.

"Why Mass' George do dat?" he cried.

"I didn't, you stupid little nigger," I cried, angrily.  "Get up and
mind your oar.  You caught a crab.  Pull!"

Pomp scrambled back in his place, and began to pull again as hard as he
could, for my voice had rather startled him.

"What Mass' George say?" he whispered.

"Pull!"

"Yes, I pull; but what Mass' George say 'fore dat?"

"I said you caught a crab."

"Didn't!  It was great big terrapum."

"I mean you put your oar in too deep."

"Den what for say catch um crab?  Mass' George say Injum in de bush
shootin' at Pomp, and den he look round an' no Injum dah; Mass' George
play trick to fright um, and den call poor Pomp 'tupid lil nigger."

"Will you hold your tongue and row?"  I whispered fiercely.

"Pomp can't hold um tongue and pull de oar bofe togedder."

"Hush!"

_Pow_--_ow_--_ow_--_ow_--_ow_--_ow_!  Came faintly from among the trees,
and Pomp turned sharply round, with circles of white showing round the
dark part of his eyes; but this time he kept his oar out of the water,
and the boat instead of turning toward the side continued to glide
swiftly down the stream.

"Dat de Injum?" he whispered.

"Yes.  Pull--hard!"

He swung round in his place, and began to row again so sturdily that I
had to work hard to keep the boat's head straight; and the stream
favouring us, we went on down at a rapid rate, though every now and then
I was obliged to whisper to him to easy as we neared some sharp curve or
sandbank, to avoid which obstacles I had to keep turning round to look
ahead.

We had been rowing steadily like this for some time now without hearing
the cries of the Indians, but I did not feel any the more confident, for
I knew enough of their habits to think that when they were most silent
the greatest danger might be near.  The banks glided slowly by us, and
we had this great advantage, that even if we slackened speed the boat
still travelled fast.  But Pomp worked hard, and evidently believing
that the danger was entirely past, his spirits rose again and he began
to laugh.

"Poor ole Injum," he said; "I berry sorry for um.  Poor ole Injum lose
um knife.  Pomp wonner what um say.  How soon we get home now, Mass'
George?"

"Oh, it will take hours yet," I replied; and just then I turned my head
to see that we were rapidly approaching a ridge of sand right in the
middle of the river.  I was about to give my oar a vigorous tug, when I
noted that the stream divided, and ran in two swift currents on either
side of the ridge.  As we then were, I saw that the boat would go
through the narrower one--the swifter evidently; and at the same moment
a pile of wood and dead rubbish on the sandspit ceased to obstruct the
view, and to my horror I saw that the little long islet, whose sands
were only just above the level of the water, was occupied by a group of
seven or eight alligators, the nearest being a monster, the rest varying
to the smallest, which was not above three feet long.

I involuntarily ceased rowing and Pomp did the same, just as we were
entering the narrow channel, and so close to the sandspit, that the
blade of the boy's oar held ready for the next dip swept over the sand.

Pomp was gazing in the other direction, scanning the river-bank; and as
I saw what was about to happen, I said in a quick whisper--

"Look out!"

Almost as I spoke, the blade of Pomp's oar swept over the rugged horny
coat of the largest alligator, which, like the rest, was sleeping in the
hot sunshine perfectly ignorant of our near approach.

The effect was instantaneous.  As the boy turned sharply round to look
out, the great reptile sprang up, opened its huge jaws, and made a snap
at the oar-blade, whisked round its tail, striking the boat, and then
made a series of plunges to reach the water on the other side, its
actions alarming the rest, which on their retreat made the sandspit seem
alive, and the water splash and foam; while Pomp uttered a yell of
horror, loosed his hold of his oar, and dived down into the boat, to
rise again and stare over the stern as soon as I told him the danger was
past.

It was all the work of a few moments, during which I was startled
enough, especially when I saw the gaping jaws of the great reptile, and
heard the snap it made at the oar-blade; but we were going swiftly by,
and mingled with the terror there was something so comic in Pomp's
actions, that in the reaction I began to laugh.

This brought Pomp's face round directly, and his reproachful black eyes
seemed to ask me what I could see to laugh at.

"Come," I said, "you can't tell me I was playing tricks then.--Why,
Pomp, your oar's overboard," I cried as I realised that fact.

"Yes, Mass' George.  Dat great 'gator 'wallow um."

"Nonsense!"  I cried, as I tried to check the progress of the boat on
catching sight of the oar gliding swiftly down stream twenty yards away.
"There it is.  Wait till it comes close.  I'll try and manage to get
you near it."

"Dah it am!  Whah?"

"There, just off to your left."

"So um are, Mass' George.  'Gator no like um, an' 'pit um out 'gain."

"There: mind!  Now then, quick!  Catch hold."

I had managed to check the boat enough to let the oar overtake us, and
Pomp made a snatch at it, but drew back sharply with a low cry of
horror.

"What's the matter now?"  I said.  "Make haste; you'll lose it."

"Great big Injum down dah," he whispered, hoarsely.  "Um want to bite
off poor Pomp arm."

"Nonsense!  How could an Indian be there?"  I said, as we floated on
side by side with the oar.

"Injum?  Pomp say great big 'gator.  You look, Mass' George."

"You said Indian, Pomp," I continued, as I drew in my oar, picked up the
boat-hook, and went cautiously to the side to look down into the
transparent water, where, sure enough, one of the reptiles was swimming
along; but it was quite a small one, and a sharp dig down with the
boat-hook sent it undulating away, and I recovered the oar, passing it
to Pomp with a gesture, as there arose once more a cry from the forest
right away back, and it was answered in two places.

Pomp took the oar and began to row again steadily, staring back at the
sandspit, now fast growing distant.  Then all at once, as the faint cry
arose from the forest--

"Dat not Injum," he cried sharply; "dat fock."

"Fox!"  I said, recalling the little jackal-like creatures, of which I
had seen one or two that had been shot by Morgan.

"Yes, dat fock.  Um shout like dat to noder fock in um wood when um lose
umself."

"Yes, but that would be at night," I said, wondering whether he was
right.

"'Pose um lose umself in de day.  Make um cry?"

"No," I said, thoughtfully.  "It is like the cry of the fox, Pomp, but I
think it's the Indians making it."

"Why Injum cry out like fock when um can cry like Injum?"

"To deceive any one who hears them."

"What deceive?" said Pomp.

"Cheat--trick."

"Oh!" he said, and we rowed on steadily hour after hour, realising how
we must have increased our distance from home in the night.

Sometimes as we swept round one of the river bends we encountered a
breath of fresh air, but mostly deep down in that narrow way winding
through the forest the heat was intense; and there were times when, as I
paused to sweep the perspiration from my face, I felt that I must give
up, and lie down at the bottom of the boat.

But almost invariably at these times I heard faintly what I believed to
be the Indians calling to each other as they came on through the forest;
and in the hope that perhaps after all we had got the start, and would
reach home in time to give the alarm, I tugged at my oar again, and so
long as I rowed Pomp never for a moment flagged.

But I could not keep his tongue quiet.  Now he would be making
derisively defiant remarks about the 'gators; then he had something
disparaging to say about the Indians; and when I spoke to him angrily he
would be quiet for a time, but only to burst out with reproaches at me
for calling him a "'tupid lil nigger."

Nothing ever hurt Pomp's feelings more than that term, which seemed to
him the very extreme of reviling, and always went straight to his heart.

It was getting toward evening, and a rich orange glow was beginning to
glorify the long reach of the river down which we were rowing--
sluggishly now, for we were both tired out--when it struck me that I had
not heard the cry for some time now, and I made the remark to Pomp.

"No; fock gone asleep now till de moon get up.  Den fock get up too, an'
holler."

"No, Pomp," I said, "it's the Indians, and they are silent because they
are getting near the house now."

"So Pomp get near de house, and don't care for de Injum.  He so dreffle
hungry."

So was I; but my intense anxiety drove away all that, and I tried to tug
harder at the oar, for I knew that we were near home now; familiar trees
and corners of the stream kept coming into view, and I was just thinking
that very soon I should be able to look behind me and see our
landing-place, when a faintly-heard hail came along the river.

We both turned sharply, and Pomp exclaimed in words what I only too
gratefully saw--

"Dah de capen an Mass' Morgan in 'noder boat.  Wha my fader too?"

I stood up for a moment and waved my hand, and then sat down, and we
both pulled our best, after Pomp had grumbled a little, and wanted to
let the boat float down alone.

A few minutes later I was holding on to the gunwale of the strange boat
in which my father was seated, almost too much exhausted to speak.

"I was getting uneasy about you, my boy," my father said, "for there
have been some fresh rumours at the settlement about Indians, and Morgan
went round and borrowed this boat; we were coming on to see after you.
Why, George, is anything the matter?"

"Yes, father," I panted.  "The Indians--they are coming on."

"No," said Pomp sharply, and he struck his hand on the side of the boat
to emphasise his words.  "Mass' George hear de fock--lose him lil self
an holler, and he only tink it de--Ah, look!  Look, Mass' George, look!
Who dat?"

He pointed back up the steam, where at the edge of the bank that the
river swept round previous to passing along the straight reach, there
stood two tall figures, their feathers and wild dress thrown up by the
bright glare of the setting sun.  They were evidently reconnoitring, and
though we saw them clearly for a few seconds, the next moment they
seemed to have died away.

"Indians," said my father, drawing in his breath with a low hiss; "and
we must not neglect this warning.  Morgan, I'll get in here with the
boys; you go back, make your boat fast at the landing-place, and run up
to the house, and bring your wife and Hannibal down."

"But the things in the house, sir?"

"Lives are of more importance than chattels, man," said my father, in
his sternest and most military way.  "Tell your wife she is to stop for
nothing, but to come."

"An' s'pose she won't, sir?" said Morgan sharply.

"Carry her," said my father laconically, as he stepped into our boat and
pushed the other off.

"But bring nothing else, sir?" said Morgan, piteously.

"Yes; two guns, and all the ammunition you can carry; but be quick, man,
we shall be waiting at the landing-place.  The Indians are coming in
earnest now.  We shall stop till you come, and open fire if it is
necessary."  My father capped the gun he had brought from the boat.
"Stop.  Hand me your gun and pouches."

Morgan gave a stroke or two with his oar, and brought the boats
alongside of each other again, then handed the gun to me.

"Now then," said my father, "off!  Remember, I shall be trying to keep
the Indians at bay if they show, and delay on your part may mean the
loss of our lives and--your own."

Morgan gave his head a sharp nod, bent to his oars, and my father turned
to me, and cried, as if he were addressing a line of men--

"Load!"



CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

I believe my hands trembled, but I stood up firmly in the boat and
charged the heavy piece, making the ramrod leap, as I had been told,
examined the priming, and then, in obedience to my father's sign, sat
down.

Pomp had taken both oars, and was dipping them gently from time to time,
to keep the boat's head straight, and after a long look up the reach, my
father sat down too.

"Let's see, George," he said, "we are about a mile above the
landing-place, and we must give Morgan plenty of time to get there, up
to the house, and back.  Hold up your gun, and let the Indians see it if
they are watching, and I suppose they are.  These bow-and-arrow people
have a very wholesome dread of powder."

"But suppose they keep creeping near us under shelter, father," I said,
"and shoot?"

"They will in all probability miss; let's hope so, at all events.  Come,
my lad, you have a gun, and you must play soldier now.  Will you lie
down under shelter of the boat's side?"

"Soldiers don't lie down," I said firmly, though I wanted to do so very
badly indeed.

"Oh, yes, they do sometimes.  We will as soon as it is necessary; but
what I want to do now, my boy, is to gain time.  If we row swiftly to
the landing-place, the Indians will come on rushing from tree to tree,
and be upon us in a few minutes, for I presume they are in force."

I told him quickly how many we had seen.

"It is a mercy that you went and were taken, George," he said; "it has
saved our lives, no doubt.  But as I was saying, we want to gain time,
and while we sit here slowly drifting down, with these menacing guns
pointing in their direction, they will advance very slowly, and keep
under cover.  If it becomes necessary, I shall have the boat turned, and
advance to meet them."

"And then, father?"

"They will retire for a time, not being able to understand so bold an
advance, and think that an attack is about to be made upon them from the
other side.  We must keep them back, and it is to be done by preserving
a bold front.  They are cruel and treacherous, and can fight well when
they think they are in strength over a weak adversary; but from what I
learned of those who have had to do with them, they are as cowardly as
they are cruel.  Look!"

I gazed sharply up the wooded bank of the river, but I could see
nothing, and said so.

"No; they were gone directly.  They were two spies who had stolen closer
up.  It means war in earnest now, I am afraid."

He changed his position a little, and examined his gun.

"Mass' goin' shoot dat gun?" said Pomp, excitedly, after watching and
listening with all his energy.

"Yes, my lad," said my father, smiling.

"Mass' won't shoot Pomp?"

"No.  Attend to the oars, and keep the boat's head straight.  Don't
speak."

"No, massa.  Oh, look, dat dah!"

Pomp's loud exclamation was due to the fact that an arrow came flying
from a low clump of bushes nearly two hundred yards away, its reed shaft
glistening in the ruddy light, and its wings looking as if of fire, till
it dropped without a splash into the river, far away from where we sat.

"Now I should like to return their fire," said my father, "but I am very
doubtful about my gun doing any harm at this distance, so we must wait.
Pull a little, boy, but very gently, so that they will hardly be able to
see that we are doing anything to get away."

Pomp dipped the oars, and I sat with my heart beating, waiting to see
another arrow come, but for quite a minute there was no sign.

"Good practice for one beginning a frontier life, George," said my
father.  "Sweep the bank well, and note the smallest movement of a
bough.  You see there is no wind to move them now."

"I am watching, father," I said, "but I cannot see anything."

"Pomp see lil bit o' one," came from behind us.

"Where, boy?"

"Dah by dat big tree.  See um arm.  Going to shoot."

Almost as the words left the boy's lips, an arrow came spinning through
the air, describing a good arc, and falling in a direct line with the
boat, some twenty yards short.

"That's better," said my father, coolly resting his gun on the stern,
and half lying down in the boat.  "Hah!  I could see that."

I had also seen what appeared to be a quick movement of the bushes a
short distance from the edge of the bank, a movement which seemed such
as would have been made by an animal dashing through.

The waving of the foliage stopped just by a great swamp oak, and upon
this tree I fancied that my father fixed his eye.

"Dah again," said Pomp, excitedly.  "Going shoot um bow an' arrow."

_Bang_!

The boat rocked a little with the concussion, and as the smoke lifted, I
saw an arrow drop into the river a long way to our left.

"I don't think I hit him," said my father; "but I disarranged his aim,
and it will check him for a bit."

His words proved correct, for though he stood up in the boat to
re-charge his piece, and offered a striking object for the Indian's
arrows, none came; and as we floated on and on, it began to seem as if
the one shot had been enough to scare the enemy.  I said so, but my
father shook his head.

"No such good fortune, my boy."

"What are you going to do, father?"  I said, after some minutes'
watching, and thinking how strange it was that my calm, quiet father,
who was so fond of his studies and his garden, should in a time of
emergency like this prove himself to be a firm soldier, ready to fight
or scheme against our dangerous foes.

"Escape to the settlement if we can get safely away."

"But--"

I stopped short.

"Well?" he said.

"I was thinking about the house and garden, the furniture and books, and
all our treasures."

"Doomed, I'm afraid, George," he said with a sigh.  "We must think about
saving our lives.  We can build up the house again."

"Build it up again, father?"

"Yes, if it is burnt, and replace our books; but we cannot restore life,
my boy.  Besides, all these things that we shall lose are not worth
grieving over.  There, I think we have waited long enough now to give
them time, and we are near the landing-place.  Pull steadily now, boy,
right for the posts."

Pomp obeyed, and the boat glided on, swept round a wooded point, and the
landing-place with its overhanging trees was in sight.

"Are they there?" said my father, sharply.

"I can't see them, father."

A sharp stamp with his foot on the thwart of the boat told of the
excitement he felt, and made me realise more than ever the peril we were
in.

"Pull, boy--pull!" he said.

I sat down in front of Pomp, laid my gun across the thwarts, and placing
my hands on the oars, helped with a good thrust at every tug, sending
the boat well along, so that in a couple of minutes more we were at the
landing-place, where I leaped out, and secured the boat by passing the
rope through a ring-bolt.

"Don't fasten it tightly," said my father; "leave it so that you can
slip it at a moment's notice.  No, no, boy, sit still ready to row."

Pomp, who was about to spring out, plumped down again, his brow wrinkled
up, and his twinkling dark eyes watching my father, of whom he stood in
terrible awe.

"They ought to have been here; they ought to have been here," said my
father, unfastening the other boat, and making a loop of the rope that
could be just hung over one of the posts, besides bringing the boat
close in.

"I cannot go, George," he said sharply.  "This is our only means of
escape, and it would be like throwing it away: they ought to have been
here."

"Pomp hear um come," cried the boy eagerly; and we both listened, but
for a few moments I could make out nothing.

Then as my father was eagerly scanning the edge of the river, gun in
hand, on the look-out for the first approach of the Indians, I heard
_plod_--_plod_--_plod_--_plod_, and directly after Morgan came into
sight laden with the guns and ammunition, followed by Hannibal with a
box on his shoulder; and lastly there was Sarah, red-faced and panting,
as she bore a large white bundle that looked like a feather-bed tied up
in a sheet.

"What madness!" cried my father, angrily stamping his foot.  "Quick,
Morgan!  Quick!"

Morgan broke into a trot, and soon reached us, rapidly placed his load
in the boat, and took up one of the pieces.

"How could you waste time by letting that woman come loaded in this
ridiculous way?"

"She would bring them, sir; she wouldn't come without."

"No," said Sarah, who came up completely breathless, "I wasn't going
to."

"Into the boat," cried my father, "if you value your life!"

Hannibal was already in with his box, and my father tried to drag the
bundle from Sarah, but she held on with such tenacity that she was
forced in bundle and all.

Hannibal placed the huge white sphere in the stern, where it rose up
high and projected far over the sides.  Then, in obedience to my
father's orders, he seized the oars and sat down.

"Quick, Morgan!" said my father; "be ready to fire steadily as you can
if I give the order.  Stop!" he cried quickly, as a sudden thought
struck him; "pass that box into this boat.  There, across the stern, as
you have placed that bundle."

The boats were drawn together, and the transfer was made, while my hands
grew wet with perspiration as I scanned the edge of the forest, fancying
I could hear the breaking and rustling of twigs and leaves.

"Here dey come," said Pomp, huskily, just as my father exclaimed, "Cast
off!" and the boats were thrust out into the stream.

It was only just in time, for as our boat was being thrust away with the
oar there was a fierce yell, and a score of savages rushed out of the
edge of the forest, ran rapidly over the bushy ground between, and the
two first sprang into the shallow water, one of them seizing an oar, the
other coming further out, and catching at the boat's side with one hand,
striking at my father with an axe at the same time.

I felt as if the blow had struck me, so keen was the agony I endured;
but relief came on the instant, for the axe edge was warded off by the
barrel of the piece my father held, and before the savage could strike
again he received the butt of the piece full in his forehead, and
dropped back into the water.

Meanwhile the other savage was trying to tear the oar from Pomp's grasp,
and he would have succeeded had not the boy drawn the knife he had stuck
in his waist, and given the Indian quickly a sharp cut across the hands,
making him yell and loosen his hold.

The others were so near that we must have been captured had it not been
for the sharp stream which had caught the boat, and was bearing us away.

In the second boat another struggle had taken place, three of the
Indians, as I saw at my second glance, making for it; but they fared no
better than their companions.  Hannibal had already pushed off, and was
standing up with one oar in his hand.  This he swept round as if it were
a huge two-handed sword, and one Indian went down at once; the second
caught and clung to the oar, and he too struck at Hannibal with his axe;
but the great black caught the handle, gave it a wrench round, tore it
from the man's grasp, and I closed my eyes for a moment as I saw what
was about to follow.  When I opened them again the Indian was floating
in the river, and a companion was drawing him to land, while another was
helping the Indian who had attacked Morgan, and was struck down by a
blow with the gun-barrel.

The boats were now moving fast, and as I saw the Indians all there
bending their bows, my father shouted "Fire!"  Our three pieces went off
nearly simultaneously with a tremendous roar, and when the smoke rose I
saw three men on the ground by our landing-place, and the others in full
flight for the forest.  I stared at these three in horror, when, to my
surprise, they leaped up and ran after their companions.  But three
others lay where their comrades had dragged them half drowned, and
stunned by the blows they had received.  Those who got up and ran were
no doubt knocked down by their companions in their flight and dismay,
for I do not think our fire did them any harm.  But I was brought to
myself by a sharp command to reload.

"Quick!  Crouch down!" said my father; and as he spoke a shower of
arrows whistled by, fortunately without doing hurt.  "Morgan," continued
my father, "make a breastwork of that bundle; it will protect you.
Hannibal, row straight out, so as to get that bundle between you and the
enemy."

The great black's response was a pull or two with one oar, while, in
obedience to my father's instructions, Pomp did the same; and I now saw
the good of the box placed across the stern, behind which we two
sheltered, and kept up as rapid a fire as we could, doing but little
harm, for the Indians were well sheltered among the trees, and rarely
showed more than a hand and arm with one side of the face, the rest of
the body being always hidden behind the trunk of some great tree.  But
our shots did good to this extent, for whenever the enemy made a
determined rush, as if to reach a spot opposite to where the boats
glided down stream, a little volley invariably sent them back to cover.

Still by darting from tree to tree, or crawling under the thick bushes,
they kept close in our wake, and poor Sarah's encumbrances proved
invaluable, the box and huge bundle forming excellent shelter, from
behind which we could fire, saving the woman too as she lay right in the
bottom of the boat; for the arrows came fast--_whizz, whizz, whizz_, now
sticking in the box with a hollow sounding rap, or into the big bundle
in the other boat with a dull, thudding sound, till both box and bundle
actually bristled with the missiles.

"Keep your head down, my boy," my father kept saying to me.  "Only look
up when you are going to fire."

This was good advice, but I did not see that he took it to himself, and
I kept feeling a curious shrinking sensation as some better-aimed arrow
than usual struck the box close to his head.

And so we went slowly on, my father dividing his time between loading,
firing, and directing Pomp and Hannibal how to row, so as to keep the
boats one behind the other, and diagonally across the stream, so that
our sheltering defences might be presented square to the enemy, who
followed us along the bank.

I'm afraid--and yet I do not know that I ought to speak like that of a
set of savages who were thirsting for our blood--several of the Indians
went down severely wounded, not from my firing, but from that of Morgan,
for I saw them stagger and fall three times over after his shots.  What
happened after my father's I could not see, for we were close together,
and the smoke obscured everything.

For fully ten minutes this duel between lead and arrow went on, but no
one on our side was hurt, though we had some very narrow escapes.  I
felt one arrow give quite a twitch at my hair as it passed close to my
temple, and another went through my father's hat.  In the other boat too
Morgan kept answering to our inquiries, and telling us that all was
right, only that some of the arrows had come, as he termed it, "precious
nigh, look you."

"We shall not shake them off," said my father, "till we reach the mouth
and get into the big river, when I hope our firing will be heard and put
them on their guard at the settlement.  So don't spare your shots when
we get well out.  They will be doing double duty--scaring the enemy and
warning our friends.  That's right, Pompey, my lad, pull steadily."

"Iss, massa, pull berry 'tead'ly," said the boy, grinning.

"As soon as we get a little farther we will relieve you, my lad; and
then, George," he said, turning to me, "we must row hard for the
settlement, unless," he added, sadly, "the enemy are before us, and
then--Hah!"

I started at the moment when my father uttered that ejaculation, for an
arrow dropped between us, and stuck quivering in the thwart, standing
nearly upright, as if it had fallen from the clouds.

"They have altered their tactics," said my father.  "Look there."

Another arrow fell with a faint _plop_ into the river close to the edge
of the boat.  "They find our breastwork too much for them," said my
father; "and they are shooting up right over us, so as to try and hit us
that way."

"Oh!  Oh!  Oh!" came in wild yells of pain from Pomp, as I heard a dull
thud just behind me; and turning sharply, there was the boy dancing
about in his agony, and tugging to free his hand from an arrow which had
fallen and gone right through, pinning it to one of the oars.

"Stop!  Don't struggle, boy," cried my father, laying his gun across the
box.

"But um hurt dreffle, massa.  Oh, Mass' George, lookye here--lookye
dah."

The boat was drifting now, and turning slowly side on to the shore, when
my father made a sign, and I left my gun lying across the box and crept
into Pomp's place, while my father seized the boy's hand, held it
tightly, detached the arrow with a tug from where it stuck in the oar,
and then as I began to row he pulled Pomp down into the bottom of the
boat, the boy sobbing with the pain.

_Whizz_!  An arrow made me duck my head, and I don't know how I looked,
but I felt as if I must have turned pale.

"Pull your right, George; pull your right," said my father, coolly.
"Now, Pomp, my boy, let me look.  Come, be a man."

My father took his hand, and the boy jumped and uttered a cry of pain,
but he evidently mastered himself, and rising to his knees, he resigned
himself to my father, but doubled his other fist and shook it in the
direction of the shore as he shouted fiercely--

"Ah, you wait bit, great big coward--great big ugly Injum tief.  You
wait bit--Pomp and um fader get hold you, gib you de 'tick.  Hab you
flog--hab you--Oh!  Oh, Mass' Capen, done, done," he cried piteously,
changing his tone and appealing to my father, as he saw him take out and
open his great gardening knife, which was as sharp as a razor.

"Be quiet," said my father; "I will not hurt you much."

"No, no," whimpered Pomp.  "Mass' George, ask massa not cut arm off.
Cut off lil toe, Massa Capen; cut off um foot.  What poor lil nigger do
wif ony one arm?"

"Be quiet, you cowardly little rascal," said my father, smiling, as with
one sharp cut he took off the head of the arrow, and then easily drew
the shaft back from where it had passed right through Pomp's black hand.

As soon as he saw the arrow-head cut off, and understood what my father
meant, Pomp knelt there as coolly as could be.

"Hurt much?" said my father, pressing his finger and thumb on the wound
at the back and palm of the boy's hand.

"Um tickle, sah: dat all.  Pomp tought you cut um arm off.  Hi!  You
dah," he shouted excitedly; "you wait till Pomp get lil bit of rag round
um hand, you see how I serb you.  Yah!  You big coward Injum tief."

My father rapidly drew his handkerchief from his pocket, tore a piece
off, divided it in two, and making the two pieces into little pads,
applied one each to the back and front of the boy's hand before binding
them securely there.

As soon as this was done, Pomp looked up at him with his eyes sparkling
and showing his teeth.

"Pomp not mind a bit," he said.  "Here, Mass' George, come here an'
shoot um.  Let Pomp hab de oars."

"No," said my father.  "Sit down there in the bottom of the boat.  Hah!"

He seized his gun and fired; then caught up mine, waited till the smoke
had risen a little, and fired again, a shot coming almost at the same
moment from the other boat.

It was quite time, for the Indians, encouraged by the cessation of the
firing, and seeing that some one was wounded, were coming on well
abreast of us.  But the first shot warned them, and the two which
followed sent them once more back under cover, leaving one of their
number, to Pomp's great delight, motionless among the canes.

"Ha, ha!" he laughed; "you cotch it dis time, sah.  How you like feel de
shot, eh?  You no 'tick arrow froo poor lil nigger hand again, you no--
Oh, Mass' George, look dah!"

For the prostrate man suddenly rolled over, half rose, darted amongst
the canes, and we could see by his movements that he was rapidly getting
ahead.  Then another and another darted to him, and to our misery we saw
that they were making for a wooded point a couple of hundred yards
ahead.

"Mean to take us between two fires," said my father, who was coolly
reloading, in spite of the arrows which kept on dropping down in and
about the boat as the Indians sent them right up in the air.

"Morgan!" shouted my father.

"Yes, sir."

"Turn your fire in the other direction, and drive those fellows out of
that clump of trees on the point."

"Yes, sir."

The next minute there was a sharp report, and then another.

"That's right, boy," said my father to Pomp, who was eagerly watching
him reloading, and handing the ammunition.  "Why, George--Ah, that arrow
was near; did it hurt you?"

"Only scratched me, father," I said, as I winced a little, for one of
the Indians' missiles had fallen, ploughed my leg a little, and pinned
the fold of my breeches to the thwart on which I sat.

Pomp crept to my side and pulled out the arrow, examining the hole in
the thwart, and saying merrily--

"I no 'tink you want lil bit rag round you, sah."

"No, Pomp; go back and help to load."

_Bang_--_bang_!  Was heard again from the foremost boat; but arrows came
now fast from the wooded point we were approaching.

"How does Morgan manage to load so quickly?" said my father, who kept on
talking calmly, as I believe now to encourage us.

"I think Morgan is--I mean I think Sarah is loading for him," I replied,
rather confusedly, as the trees and the wooded bank began to grow misty
and dim.

"Ah, very likely.  Great--"

The one word came in a very different tone of voice, as a wild shriek
rang out from the foremost boat, followed by a momentary silence.

"What is it?" said my father, sternly.

His demand was almost accompanied by a couple more shots in close
succession.

"One down, sir," said Morgan, coolly; but his voice sounded to me
distant and strange.

"Pull hard, George, my lad--your right.  We must give that point as wide
a berth as we can."

I obeyed as well as I could, and half wondered at the singing noise in
my ears.

_Bang_!  Came from the foremost boat, and I seemed to know that Morgan
had no one to load for him now, and that poor Sarah had uttered that
shriek we had heard.  Then I saw that my father was resting his gun on
the foremost part of the boat, and he too fired at the woody point, from
which arrow after arrow came in quick succession.

And still I rowed hard, with the perspiration streaming down to soak me.

_Whizz_--_thud_--_whizz_--_whizz_, and an angry ejaculation from my
father; I did not know why, nor yet why Pomp uttered a shrill
ejaculation, for I was pulling with all my might like one in a dream.  I
felt once as if I should like to look back and see how near we were to
the point that I knew must be close at hand; but everything was getting
dark, and a horrible sensation of sickness was coming on.  Then the
sharp report of my father's piece made me start and pull harder, as I
thought, and I tried to look toward the shore, where a wild yelling had
arisen; but Pomp's words uttered close to me took my attention, and in a
dreamy way I supposed that another Indian had been killed.

Then the boy spoke again in a low whimpering way--

"Massa--massa--look at de blood.  Oh, Mass' George!  Mass' George!"



CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

"Better, my lad?"

I did not answer, but looked in my father's face, wondering what was the
matter--why I felt so deathly sick, as I lay back feeling water splashed
in my face, and seeing a black hand going and coming from somewhere at
my side.

"Come: try and hold up," said my father.

"Yes," I said.  "What's the matter?"

"Nothing very serious for you, my lad.  We have been playing at soldiers
in earnest, that's all, and you have been wounded."

"I, father--I?  Ah yes, I remember," I said, essaying to sit up.  "But I
did try hard to bear it."

"I know--I know, my lad.  I didn't know you were hurt like that."

"But--but the Indians?"  I said, struggling up, and then catching at my
father's hand, for I felt a burning pain run through my leg, and the
sick sensation returned.

"We have left them behind," he said, "and are out of their reach for the
present.  Now sit still, and the faintness will go off.  I must go to
the other boat."

I looked sharply round, and found that the wooded point was far behind,
and also that we were well out of our stream, and floating steadily down
the big river toward the settlement, whose flagstaff and houses stood
out in the sunshine on our left about a mile away.  I saw too that a
rope had been made fast to the end of the other boat, and that we were
being towed, but by whom, or what was going on there, I could not see
for the great bundle in the white sheet which filled up the stern, and
was still bristling with arrows.

"Hold hard!" shouted my father, and our boat began to glide alongside of
the other.  "Can you sit up, my lad?"

"Yes, father," I said.

"Pomp take car' of him, massa."

"Yes, but you are wounded too," said my father.

"Oh, dat nuffum," said the boy contemptuously.

My attention was riveted now on Sarah, whom I could see as the boats
were alongside lying crouched back in the bottom, looking deathly white
as Morgan knelt by her, holding a handkerchief pressed to her shoulder.

"Now let me come," said my father.  "Are both your pieces loaded?"

"I have that charged, sir," he said aloud.  Then I heard him whisper,
"You don't think she's very bad, do you, sir?"

My father made no reply, but took Morgan's place.

"Go and take an oar," he said then.  "Help Hannibal; and try and get us
to the fort if you can.  Yes," he continued, after shading his eyes with
his hand, "the flag is still flying; the Indians cannot be there yet."

"Boat coming," cried Pomp; and to our great delight, we saw a
well-manned boat shoot out from the shore, and begin to head in our
direction.

My father uttered a sigh of relief, and I heard him mutter "Thank God!"
as he proceeded to bandage the poor woman's shoulder as well as he
could; and in a momentary glance I saw that an arrow, with the shaft
sticking out, broken short off, was still in the wound.

I wondered why my father did not draw it out, but of course said
nothing, only sat gazing from the coming boat to the shore, which all
seemed peaceful and calm now, there being no sign of Indians or trace of
the trouble, save on board our boats.

Just then, as I was reviving more and more, and fully learning the fact
that I had received what might have proved a dangerous wound had not the
bleeding been stopped, a hail came from the approaching boat, which
proved to be Colonel Preston's.

"Anything the matter?  What's all that firing about?" cried the colonel,
as his boat's way was checked.

"Indians!--attacked!" said my father, speaking excitedly as he waved his
hand toward his wounded; and then, "Don't lose a moment.  Help us
ashore, and there must not be a soul out of the fort in half an hour's
time."

There was a disposition in Colonel Preston's manner to make light of the
matter, but the sight of the arrows bristling about the defences checked
him; and ordering a couple of men out of his own boat to help row ours,
he stayed with us to hear the narrative of our fight.

"They are good marksmen too," he said; and then, turning to my father, I
heard him whisper, "That woman--wound dangerous?"

"I am afraid so," my father replied.  "She must have better attention
than I can give her."

I turned to gaze on the poor sufferer lying there close beneath the
bundle which she had insisted upon bringing--the great pile of soft
things which had been a protection to those with her, but had not saved
her from the Indians' arrow; and as I watched her I forgot my own pain
and suffering, and thought of how good and kind she had always been to
me in spite of her quaint, rather harsh ways; and the great hot tears
came into my eyes, to make things look dim and misty again, as I thought
of my father's words.

A sharp look-out was kept, and the colonel and his men armed themselves
with some of the pieces we had in the boats; but the Indians were in the
forest right at the back of the settlement, and had not kept along the
bank when we reached the great river.

Quite a little crowd was awaiting our coming at the wharf, and as soon
as the news spread, the excitement was tremendous; but almost before
poor Sarah had been carried up to the great block-house, and I had
limped there, resting on Hannibal, a bugle had, rung out, and having
been drilled by the General in case of such emergency, men, women, and
children, followed by the black slaves, ran scurrying to the
entrance-gates, carrying such little household treasures as they could
snatch up in the hurry.

As the women and children took refuge inside the strong palisades, the
able-bodied men formed up ready outside, all well-armed; and looking a
thoroughly determined set, as they were marched in, guard set, and
ammunition served out.

The military training of many of the settlers stood them in good stead,
while the General, who the last time I saw him was superintending his
slaves in the cotton-field, was hurrying about now giving his orders;
and in an amazingly short time scouts were sent out, arrangements were
made for barricading the gates, and every musket that could be procured
was stood ready to battle with the savage foe.

Colonel Preston and my father were, I soon saw, the General's right-hand
men, and each had his particular duty to do, my father's being the
defence of the gates, just outside which I was standing in spite of my
wound, Pomp being close at hand, ready, with several other of the black
boys, to fetch ammunition, to carry messages, and, with the guarding
force outside the gates at the present, being sent to first one and then
another of the abandoned houses, to bring out valued articles, such as
could be hurriedly saved.

I was in a good deal of pain, but everything was so exciting that I
could not find it in my heart to go into the great barrack-like wooden
fort in the centre of the palisaded enclosure, but stood watching the
preparations, and thinking how rapidly the settlement had increased
since we came.

One thing I heard over and over again, and that was the people bemoaning
their fate at having to leave their comfortable houses just as
everything had been made homely and nice, to be pillaged and burned by
the Indians.

"And they'll pillage and burn our place," I thought, "perhaps the
first."  And I was thinking bitterly of all this, and that we had far
more right to complain than the rest, when Pomp came strutting up with
his arm in the loose sling, of which he seemed to be very proud.

He stopped short as he came quickly up, having been summoned away a few
minutes before; and now he pointed at me, and turned to a quiet,
keen-looking youngish man, who wore a sword, but had his pockets stuffed
full of bandages and bottles, for I heard them chink.

"Dat Mass' George, sah," he cried.

"Ah, that's right.  Your father wished me to examine your wound."

"Are you a doctor?"  I said eagerly.

"Well, yes--a surgeon."

"Come with me, then," I cried.  "There's some one who was wounded in one
of our boats."

"The woman?  Yes, I have seen her and attended to her.  Now then, quick,
my lad.  Lean on me, and let's see about you."

I limped beside him to the part of the block-house set apart for such
troubles, and after giving me no little pain, he said--

"There, you can sit somewhere and load guns.  You will not hurt now."

"It's not dangerous then?"  I said.

"Not at all; but if it had not been sharply attended to by your father
you would have bled to death."

"And how is our Sarah?"  I said, eagerly.

"If you mean Captain Bruton's housekeeper, she is badly wounded, but I
have removed the arrow-head, and I think she will do.  I suppose you are
Master George?"

"Yes."

"Then as soon as you can you must go and see the poor woman.  She was
talking constantly of you, and begged me to send you if we met."

I thanked him, and left him emptying his pockets of strips of linen,
threads, a box of something that made me think about pistols in the case
at home, and then of some bottles, all of which he laid about in the
most orderly manner, and I left him with a shudder, as I thought of what
they were for.

As soon as I got outside I was accosted by Pomp, who came up to me,
saying--

"Leg quite well now?"

"No; nor likely to be, Pomp."

"Mass' George better wear um in fling like Pomp arm.  Missie Sarah want
Mass' George."

He took me to where the poor woman lay, very white and exhausted, but
she brightened up as soon as she saw me approach, and the black nurse
who was attending to her drew back.

"Ah, Sarah," I exclaimed, as I went to her side, "I am sorry to see you
like this."

She paid no heed to my words of condolence, but caught me by the wrist.

"Where is that box?" she said eagerly.

"The box?  The one Hannibal carried down?"

"Yes; where is it?"

"I don't know," I said.

"What?  You don't know?  Oh, Master George!"

"It was brought up from the boat, and put in the enclosure somewhere."

"Thank goodness," she said with a sigh.

"And the bundle?" she suddenly exclaimed.

"Ought you to worry about such things now?"  I asked.  "What does it
matter?"

"Matter?" she gasped.

"Yes.  Do you know your waiting to get those things made us nearly
caught by the Indians?"

"If it did, they saved you all from being shot by them as I was with
that dreadful arrow."

"Well--yes, they did keep off the arrows; but if you had been quicker we
should not have been shot at.  You shouldn't have stopped to worry about
your clothes.  My father would have paid for more."

"And me so weak and ill, Master George, and you to reproach me like
that," she said, with the tears brimming over on to her cheeks.

"Nonsense!"  I said, taking her hand, to feel her cling to mine
affectionately.  "I was not reproaching you, and we are all safe, and
nothing to mind."

"Nothing to mind?  Ah, my dear, think of what our poor house will be
like when we get back."

"I don't think I will," I said dryly; but she did not heed, and went
on--

"It was bad enough after that dreadful flood.  What will it be now?  And
so much pride as I took in it, and such a home as it had become.  And
then, my dear, for you to go and think that I should keep those two
waiting while I got together things of my own."

"Well, you know you did," I said, laughing.

"For shame, Master George!  That box has got everything in that I knew
you would like to save."

"Oh, Sarah!"

"And in that bundle is all the best of the linen, and right in the
middle, your poor dear father's uniform."

I did not know which to do--to laugh at the poor woman for her kindly
but mistaken thoughts, or to feel affected, so I did neither, but
pressed her hand gently, told her she must sleep, and rose to go; but
she clung to my hand.

"You'll take care, and not go into danger," she said.  "You have been
hurt enough."

"I'll try not," I said, as she still clung to my hand, looking wistfully
at me.  I seemed to understand what she meant, stooped over and kissed
her, and made her cry.

"Poor old nurse!"  I said to myself as I limped out, and across the
enclosure, where the people were gathered in knots discussing the
possibility of an attack.  In one part all the blacks were together--the
women and the younger boys; in another part the ladies with their
children; while on the rough platforms erected at the corners of the
great palisade sentries were stationed, keeping a vigilant look-out; and
I now saw that to every white man there were two armed blacks, and I
could not help thinking that we should all be massacred if the blacks
sided with the savages against those who had made them their slaves.

At one of these corners I saw that our Hannibal was placed, his great
bulk and height making him stand out prominently from his companions;
and feebly enough, and with no little pain, I went towards him, thinking
very little of my injury in my boyish excitement, though had I been
older, and more given to thought, I suppose I should have lain up at
once in the temporary hospital.

I signed to Hannibal to come to me, and the gentleman mounting guard
with him giving permission, I took him aside.

"Well, Han," I said, as he smiled at me in his quiet, grave way, "you've
got a gun, and are going to fight then?"

"Yes, Mass' George, going to fight."

"And will the other people fight too?"

"Yes; all going to fight," he said.  "Capen say must fight for us,
Hannibal, and Hannibal going to fight for capen and Mass' George."

"But--" I checked myself, for it seemed to come to me like a flash that
it would be foolish to ask the question I intended about the blacks
being faithful.  "It would be like putting it into their heads to be
false," I said to myself; and then, as the great fellow looked at me
inquiringly, I continued aloud--

"Try and protect my father if you can, Han."

He gave me a quick look, and the tears stood in his eyes.

"Han die for capen and Mass' George," he said.

At that moment there was a bustle and excitement at the gate, and I
tried as quickly as my injury would allow to join the group who were
hurrying that way.



CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

It was the scouts coming back from different directions, with the same
report that no enemy was in sight, though they had penetrated in one or
two instances right to the forest.

"Isn't a false alarm, is it, Captain Bruton?" said one of the newer
settlers.  "Two of us went right to your little plantation."

"Well?" said my father, eagerly.

"Well, sir, you were not at home, so we did what I hope you approve of--
treated ourselves as you in your hospitality would have treated us.  We
sat down, ate and drank, and after we were refreshed we came back, but
we saw no enemy."

I felt hot and cold with indignation as I listened to this man's
cavalier treatment of my father, and to see that many of those present
were ready to join this scout in believing it to be a false alarm.

"I am glad, sir, that you have returned in safety to make your report,"
said my father, coldly.

"Oh, come, Winters," said Colonel Preston, warmly, "if you had seen
those boats bristling with arrows you would not think our friend Bruton
had been crying wolf."

"And if he will go into our temporary hospital he will see one of the
wounded lying there seriously injured."

"But I do not want to cast doubts on Captain Bruton's report."

"Then why did you try, sir?"  I said hotly.  "Ask the doctor if it was a
sham wound from an arrow that I got in my leg."

"George!" said my father, sternly, "remember what you are."

"I do, father," I said vehemently; "but this man seemed to think you had
not spoken the truth."

"No, no," said the settler, flushing up, "only that he might have been
deceived."

"I only wish you had been tied up for hours to a tree as I was, sir," I
said, "expecting to be killed by the Indians.  I believe even now you
can't believe it is true."

"Hush!" said my father, sternly.  "I'm afraid, gentlemen, that though
nothing has been seen of them, the Indians are hiding in the forest,
ready to descend upon us at what they consider a favourable opportunity,
and I beg, I implore, for your own sakes--for the sake of all whom you
hold dear, not to treat what I have said as being exaggerated."

"We shall not, Bruton," said the General firmly, after standing
listening in silence all through.  "I have plenty of faith in my young
friend, your son, and you may rest assured that I am not going to treat
what has taken place as a false alarm.  Gentlemen, to your posts.
Colonel Preston, the gate must be closed at once, and every other man
will remain under arms till ten to-night, when the second half will
relieve them.  Gentlemen, I consider that the siege has begun."

The evening came in dark and gloomy, and night fell as if almost at
once.  All was still but the faintly-heard lapping of the water on the
strand, and the customary croaking and hollow bellowing from the forest;
and it seemed to me, feverish and ill at ease now, that a feeling of awe
had come upon the occupants of the enclosure, who were seated about in
groups of families, discussing their strange positions in whispers, and
waiting at the first alarm to obey the General's command, and take
shelter in the great block of wooden buildings constituting the fort--a
building which had been gradually enlarged as the settlement had
increased, so that, in addition to shelter and protection, there might
be ample room for magazines, armoury, and stores.

I was seated with Pomp and my father, where we had partaken of the food
that had been served out, thinking of my bed at home, and of how dearly
I would have liked to be lying there instead of upon the hard ground,
when an alarm was given, and the officers, my father amongst them,
hurried up to the fort to ascend to the roof, and watch the glow which
had suddenly begun to appear in the southwest.

I had followed my father and stood by him, as I heard the General say
sharply, in answer to a remark made by some one of those present, upon
whose faces the faint glow was reflected--

"Forest fire, sir?  No; I am afraid it is--"

"My house, gentlemen," said my father, calmly.  "The attack has begun."

A dead silence followed my father's words, and it was almost a minute
before the General said gravely--

"Yes, Bruton, the attack has begun, and in a way I dreaded.  Well, we
must beat it off.  I am sorry that your pleasant home should be one of
the first to fall a victim to the enemy; but as it was built up, so it
can be built up again.  There will be plenty of willing hands to help
one of our most trusty brothers."

A murmur of warm assent followed this remark, and then the General spoke
again.

"Is Mr Winters here?" he said.

"Yes, General."

"What have you to say, sir, now?"

"That I beg Captain Bruton's pardon, sir; and that I will be one of the
first to help restore his house, if it please God I live through the
trouble that is to come."

"Thank you, Mr Winters," said my father, quietly.  "If we are staunch
to each other I have no fear for the result."

"Look--look!" came in a low murmur, and my heart sank, for it seemed so
piteous to see the bright glare rising over the forest, as the poor
house over which so much pains had been taken seemed, in spite of the
distance, to be sending up wreath after wreath of golden smoke, while
for a short time there was a ruddy light spreading high up into the sky.

But it all faded out as rapidly as it had arisen, and I went down into
the enclosure, to stumble soon after upon Morgan, who said grimly--

"Didn't think after that soaking, look you, she would have burnt out so
quick, Master George."

"Oh, don't talk about it, Morgan," I said.  "There, I must lie down now;
I am too weak and tired to stand."

"Come this way then, my lad, and lean on me," he said gently; and he
helped me to where I could see something white lying on the ground.

It was the great bundle Sarah had made, and close by it lay Pomp fast
asleep.

"Burned so quickly after the soaking it had had," seemed to be buzzing
in my brain, and the ruddy glow flashed up before my eyes once more; but
only in imagination, for I believe that as my head touched that great
soft bundle, regardless of danger from tomahawk or arrow, I went off
fast asleep, and slept on hour after hour, nor opened my eyes again till
it was broad day.



CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

It was a miserable scene upon which I gazed, in spite of its being a
bright clear morning; but as I grasped where I was, and shook off the
drowsy confusion, there was a feeling of thankfulness in my heart, for
the dark night had passed away, and we had not been attacked by the
Indians.

But the moment I had felt more cheerful, down came a depressing cloud,
as I remembered our row for life, our narrow escape, and the reflection
of the fire I had seen.

"Poor old house!"  I sighed to myself, for it was so terrible that the
beautiful little home should have been utterly destroyed; and it all
seemed to come up before me with its high-pitched gable ends, the rough
pine porch, the lead-paned windows that came over from England; and as I
saw it all in imagination once more, I fancied how the passion-flowers
and other creepers must have looked crisping and curling up as the
flames reached them; and what with my miserable thoughts, the stiffness
I felt from my previous day's exertions, and the pain from my little
wound, if ever I had felt horribly depressed, I did then.

"Mass' George hungly?" said a familiar voice; and there was Pomp's
contented face before me, as he came up hugging to him some slices of
bread.

"No," I said, ill-humouredly, "I can't eat; my leg hurts me so."

"Pomp can," he said; "and him hand hurt too.  Missie Morgan want to see
Mass' George."

I took one of the pieces of bread Pomp gave me, and began to eat
mechanically as I walked across the enclosure by the various little
groups of settlers and their families, to where my father was busy with
the other officers superintending the construction of a barricade
outside the gate, so as to divide the Indians in case of an attack, and
force them to come up to the entrance one by one.

"Ah, my boy," said my father, quickly, "how is the leg?"

"Hurts," I said, in an ill-used tone.

"Naturally," he cried with a laugh.  "There, don't be down-hearted about
a little pain.  I came and had a look at you, but you were asleep.
There, do you see how we are getting ready for your Indian friends?  We
hope to give them such a severe lesson that they will leave us alone in
future."

"Then you think they will attack us, father?"  I said.  "Some one just
now told me that all was quiet, and that the Indians had gone."

"That is the very reason why I think they will attack us, my boy, and
the sooner the better, George.  It must come, and I should like them to
get their sharp lesson and go; for I want to hang this up for an
ornament or to turn it into a pruning-hook."

He touched his sword as he spoke, and turned to Morgan, who came up.

"How is she?"

"Doctor says she's very feverish, sir, but he thinks she is going on all
right."

"I am very, very sorry, Morgan," said my father, sadly.  "I feel as if I
were to blame for bringing you people out to this wilderness."

"I teclare to cootness, sir," began Morgan, in a high-pitched Welsh
fashion; but he checked himself and smiled.  "There, sir, don't you talk
like that.  Wilderness?  Why, it's a pleasure to do a bit of gardening
here.  See what rich deep soil it is, and how the things rush up into
growth."

"Very poor consolation for your wife, Morgan," said my father, dryly.
"All that does not make her wound the more bearable."

"Bah!  Nonsense, sir!  She don't mind.  Why, as she said to me just now,
she wouldn't have got a wound from an Indian's arrow if she had stopped
at home, but the knife might have slipped, and she might have cut
herself, or upset a pot of boiling water over her, or failed down the
cellar steps and broken a dish and run a piece into her side."

"Well, that's good philosophy, Morgan, and very comforting to me.  What
do you say, George, are you sorry you came?"

"No, father, not at all," I replied, for unwittingly I had finished the
big slice of bread, and felt all the better for the food.  "I only wish
I were a man, and could fight."

"Don't wish that, my lad," he said quickly.  "There is nothing more
glorious in life than being a boy.  But there, I have no time to waste
in preaching to you about that," he said, laughing.  "It would be labour
thrown away.  No boy can believe it.  He has to grow into a man, and
look back: then he does.  There, don't worry yourself till your leg is
better, but do any little thing to be useful, and if an attack is made,
keep with Morgan.  You can load."

"Yes, I can load," I said to myself, as I limped off with Pomp following
me, looking very proud of his hand being in a sling, and we went into
the part of the block-house where poor Sarah was lying.

As I crossed the enclosure I seemed to understand now why it had been
contrived as it was to form an outer defence, which, if taken, only
meant that the enemy had a more formidable place to attack, for the
block-house seemed to my inexperienced eyes to be impregnable.

As I quietly entered the place, I encountered the doctor.

"Ha!" he said; "come to see me?"

I explained that I had come to see our housekeeper.

"Asleep," he said.  "Don't disturb her.  Let's have a look at your
wound."

He drew me into his rough room, and gave me no little pain as he
rebandaged my leg, Pomp standing by and looking on.

"Oh, that's all right, my lad," said the doctor.  "Smarts, of course,
but you'll soon mend up.  Very different if it had gone into your chest.
Now, Ebony, let's look at your hand."

"Pomp, sah," said the boy with dignity, "not Eb'ny."

"Oh, well then, Pomp.  Now then.  How's the hand?"

"On'y got lil hole in um, sah.  Hurt lil bit.  Oh!  Hurt big bit, you do
dat."

"Yes, I suppose so," said the doctor, examining and rebandaging the
wound.  "There, that will soon be well if you do not use it.  Well,
young Bruton, so they burnt you out, did they, last night?"

"Yes," I said, bitterly.

"Oh, never mind.  You heard what was said.  Well, let's go and see what
they are doing.  We're non-combatants, eh?"

We walked out into the open square, after the young doctor had
admonished the black woman who had been appointed the first nurse to be
watchful and attentive to her patient.

There was something going on down by the gate, and I forgot all about
the pain in my leg as I accompanied the doctor there, continuing my
breakfast on the second slice of bread Pomp handed to me.

We soon learned what caused the bustle.  A strong party of well-armed
scouts was out in the direction of the forest, which lay some distance
back from the block-house now, as clearing after clearing had been made,
and turned into plantations; and these scouts, with a second line in
support, were ready to give the alarm and arrest the first attack, their
orders being to fall back slowly to the gate, so that ample time would
be given at the alarm of the first shot for the busy party now being
sent out to retreat and get under cover.  For now that every one was
safe, it had been decided to try and bring in, as far as was
practicable, the most valuable things from the nearest houses.

I was not long in mounting to a good place inside the great palisade,
where I could command a view of what was going on, and soon saw that a
couple of lines of men had been made with military precision, extending
from the gate to the General's house, which had been voted the first to
be cleared; and between these lines, under the command of Colonel
Preston, a strong body of the slaves--men only at first, but as the work
went on women too--were soon going and coming, bearing the most valuable
of the household chattels, and these were so stacked in the centre of
the enclosure that they would be safe so long as the palisade kept the
enemy at bay, and would afterwards act as a line of defence.

In little over half an hour another house was treated in the same way,
and all through that day the work went on, till a goodly stack of the
best of the things had been brought in, along with stores of provisions,
that in the first hurry had been left behind.  As this went on the
people who had been sick at heart and despondent began to look more
hopeful, and family after family had their goods arranged so that they
were able to make comfortable bivouacs out in the middle of the square;
but these were all arranged under the orders of the General and his
officers, so as to form places of defence, to which the defenders of the
palisade could flee and be under cover, the whole of the new barricade
being arranged so that a way was left leading up to the main entrance of
the block-house.

I grasped all this from my position of looker-on, Pomp never leaving my
side, and asking questions which I tried to answer, so that he could
understand.

And he did comprehend too, much better than I should have expected, for
toward evening, after the day had passed, with the scouts relieved twice
over without having seen the slightest token of Indians being near, all
at once he said to me--

"When Injum come an' shoot an' get over de big fence, all dat make great
big fire."

My father's words about the great enemy we had to fear came back to me
at this, and it was with a curiously uncomfortable feeling that I left
my look-out place for the second time to go and partake of the food that
had been prepared.

For the garrison of the fort were rapidly settling down to make the best
of their position, and all was being done as to the serving out of food
with military precision, the General having drilled his followers in the
past, so that they might be prepared for such an emergency as this; and
it was quite wonderful how soon the confusion and disorder of the first
hours had changed to regular ways.

And now the night would soon be here--a time looked forward to with the
greatest of anxiety by all.

The scouts were called in by sound of bugle, and at sundown the gates
were barricaded, and sentries placed all round our defences.  Fires were
put out, and as darkness fell, and the customary chorus of the reptiles
arose from the forest and distant swamps, a curious feeling of awe came
over me where I sat watching by my father, who, after a long and arduous
day's work was sleeping heavily, Morgan close at hand, with Pomp and
Hannibal too.

I could not sleep, for there was a dull, gnawing pain in my wound; and
so I sat in discomfort and misery, thinking that though the sentries
were all on the watch, the place would not be so safe now that my father
was asleep.

The moon was hidden, but the stars shone down brightly, and I sat back,
leaning against Sarah's big bundle, in which some of the arrows were
still sticking, gazing up at the spangled heavens, listening to the
bull-frogs, and thinking how far off they sounded as compared to when I
had heard them at home.

I was listening and wondering whether the Indians would come, when I
heard a rustling sound close by, and directly after a low muttering.
But I did not pay any heed, thinking that Morgan or one of the blacks
had turned in his sleep; but the noise came again and again, and then
there was a loud ejaculation, and directly after I heard a familiar
voice exclaim--

"Bodder de ole han'!  Oh, how um do hurt!"

"Can't you sleep, Pomp?"  I whispered, as I crept softly to his side.

"Dat you, Mass' George?"

"Yes; I say, can't you sleep?"

"Yes, Mass' George.  Pomp can't sleep ebber so, but dis 'tupid han'
won't let um."

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes.  Big hot fly in um keep goin' froo.  Pomp goin' take off de rag."

"No, no; let it be; it will soon be better.  Go to sleep."

"Han' say no go sleep.  Let's go an' try find de coon."

"No, no; we are not at home now.  We can't go out of the fort."

"Out ob de fort?"

"Well, outside of the big fence."

Pomp gave a little laugh.

"Why, Pomp go over easy 'nuff."

"But it's against orders," I said.  "Here, I can't sleep either.  Let's
go and have a talk to the sentries."

Pomp jumped up at once, and without waking the others, we walked slowly
to the gate, where one of the sentries challenged us and let us go on,
after recognising me, the man saying with a laugh--

"That anybody with you, sir?"

"Yes," I said; "our boy Pompey."

"Oh!  Shouldn't hardly have thought it.  Looks like a bit o' the black
night out for a walk in a pair o' white cotton drawers."

"Him laugh at Pomp," said the boy, as we went on.

"Yes; it was only his fun."

"But what um mean 'bout de dark night in cottum drawer?"

"Oh, nothing.  Nonsense!"

"Yes, nonsense; Pomp know better.  Night can't wear cottum drawer.  All
'tuff."

"Hush!  Don't talk so loud."

"Den why say dat, an' make fun ob poor lil nigger?  I know dat man.
Wait bit; I make fun ob him, an' Mass' George an' me laugh den."

"Will you be quiet, Pomp?"

"Yes; Pomp be ebber so quiet.  Wait till laugh at him."

"Who goes there?" came from just ahead, out of the darkness.

"Mass' George an' me," said Pomp, promptly.

I hastened to give the word, and we were allowed to pass on, to be
challenged again and again, till we reached the part of the palisade on
the farther side of the block-house.

Here the sentry proved to be one of the men who had rowed out to us in
Colonel Preston's boat; and as he asked about my wound and Pomp's hand,
we stopped by him where upon the raised platform he stood, firelock in
hand, gazing over the great fence toward the forest.

"So your hurts wouldn't let you sleep, eh?" he said.  "Well, we must pay
the Indians off for it if they come nigh; but it's my belief that they
won't."

Then he fell to questioning me in a low tone about my adventures, and I
had to tell him how Pomp and I escaped.

"I should have liked to have been with you, my lad," he said.  "I'm not
fond of fighting; had too much along with Colonel Preston; but I should
have liked to have been with you when the arrows were flying."

"I wish you had been," I said.

"Do you?  Well, come, I like that; it sounds friendly.  Yes, I wish I'd
been there.  The cowards, shooting at people who've been soldiers, but
who want to settle down into peaceable folk, and wouldn't interfere with
them a bit.  I only wish they'd come; I don't think they'd want to come
any more."

"That's what my father says," I observed.  "He thinks the Indians want a
good lesson."

"So they do, my lad, so they do.  Let's take, for instance, your place,
which they burned down last night.  Now what for, but out of sheer nasty
mischief!  There's plenty of room for them, and there's plenty of room
for us.  If they think they're going to frighten us away they're
mistaken.  They don't know what Englishmen are, do they, little nigger?"

"How Pomp know what de Injum tink?" said the boy, promptly.

The man turned to me and gave me a nudge, as he laughingly continued, in
the whisper in which the conversation was carried on--

"Ah, well, they don't know, but if they'd come, I think we should teach
them, for every one here's fighting for his home, without thinking about
those who are fighting for their wives and children as well.  You don't
understand that yet, squire."

"I think I do," I said.  "I suppose a man would fight for his wife and
children in the same way as I would try and fight for my father."

"Well, suppose it is about the same.  You'll have to fight some day,
perhaps."

"Mass' George fight dreffle," put in Pomp.  "Shoot lot of Injum."

"Nonsense, Pomp!"  I said, hurriedly.

"Not nonsense.  Pomp see um tummle down when.  Mass' George shoot um."

"Why, you didn't fire on the Indians, did you, squire?" said the man.

"Lot o' times," said Pomp, quickly.

The man let his firelock go into the hollow of his left arm, and he
shook my hand warmly, as Pomp stood staring over the fence into the
darkness.

"I like that," he said, as I felt very uncomfortable and shrinking.
"But then I might have known it.  Your father and Colonel Preston didn't
hit it very well together, but the colonel always said your father was a
very brave officer, quiet as he seemed--and like father, like son.  Feel
chilly?"

"No," I said.

"Well, it isn't cold, but after being so hot all day it feels a bit
different.  Heigho!  I shouldn't at all mind having a good sleep.  One
gets tired of watching for nothing."

"Sit down and have a sleep," I said.  "I'll hold your gun and keep
guard."

"Will you, my lad?" he said, eagerly.

"Yes; I can't sleep, and I'll wake you directly if there is anything
wrong."

"Come, that's friendly," said the man.  "I like that, and I'd give
anything for an hour's sleep.  Catch hold; I'll lie down here.  You'll
be sure and call me?"

"You may trust me."

"Bah!" cried the man in an ill-used tone, and snatching back his
firelock, "that's done it."

"What is the matter?"  I said, wonderingly.

"You said you may trust me."

"Yes; I did."

"That did it.  It's just what I said to the colonel when he asked me if
I could keep on sentry without going to sleep."

"But you would not go to sleep without leaving some one else to watch."

"No," he said, sternly, "and I won't skulk.  I've been digging and
planting so long that I've forgotten my soldiering.  No, sir, a man who
goes to sleep at his post when facing the enemy ought to be shot, and,"
he added with emphasis, "he deserves it."

"Here um come, Mass' George," whispered Pomp just at that moment.

"What--to relieve guard?"  I said, quickly, as I thought of the sentry's
mistake.

"No, Mass' George, de Injum."



CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

The sentry craned his neck forward over the great fence staring out into
the gloom, and I followed his example, my heart beating heavily the
while, the regular throbs seeming to rise right up to my throat in a way
that was painful; but I could see nothing.  There was the great
star-specked sky reaching down towards earth, and ending suddenly in a
clearly defined line which I knew was the edge of the forest beyond the
plantations, which all lay in darkness that was almost black.

I strained my eyes, and held my breath, looking and listening, but could
make out nothing, and at last I placed my lips close to Pomp's ear.

"Where are they?"  I said.

"Dah!"

As he uttered that one word he stretched out his black hand, pointing
straight away toward the forest; but still I could see nothing, and
there was not a sound.

At that moment the sentry laid his hand upon my shoulder, and said
softly, "Is he playing tricks with us?"

"No," I answered; "he thinks he sees them.  His eyes are wonderful by
night."

"Well, mine are not, for I can see nothing or hear anything either."

"Are you sure, Pomp?"  I whispered.

"Yes; sure," he said.  "Big lot of Injum coming to fight."

"Hadn't you better give the alarm?"  I said to the sentry.

"I can't give the alarm till I'm certain there's danger coming," he
said, rather sulkily.  "I haven't got eyes like a cat, and I don't know
that he can see them yet."

I could not help sympathising with the man as he continued--

"'Spose I fire," he said, "and the enemy don't come on; nobody has seen
them, and nice and stupid I should look."

"But Pomp says he's sure."

"I'm not," said the man, gruffly.

"Be ready then, and fire the moment they begin to make a rush," I said,
excitedly.  Then, turning to the boy, I whispered, "Now then; tell me
once more, can you see the Indians?"

"Yes, dah," he said, quietly.

"You are sure?"

"Yes, suah.  Dey come now.  Let Pomp shoot."

"No, no; come with me," I said, catching hold of his arm.  "Let's run to
my father."

The boy was so accustomed to obey me, that he left the place directly,
and hurried with me across the enclosure in and out among the camping
groups, to where our few poor belongings lay, and I at once awakened my
father.

"Pomp has seen the Indians coming on," I said.

He started up, and so dull and heavy had been his sleep that he did not
understand me for the time.

"The Indians, father," I said.

He sprang up on the instant then, and felt for his sword.

"You say the boy saw them?"

"Yes, coming on.  We were with one of the sentries."

"But he has not fired.  I should have heard."

"No, father, he would not believe Pomp could see them."

"Pomp could see um--big lots," said the boy.

"That is enough," said my father.  "Tell the bugler--no; we will not
show them that we know," he said.  "Come with me."

We followed him to where the General was lying on a blanket or two in
the midst of his possessions, and he was on his feet in an instant
giving his orders, which were conveyed here and there to the various
officers, from whence they spread to the men so rapidly and silently
that in a few minutes, almost without a sound, a hundred well-armed
defenders of the fort were on their way to the fence in twenty little
squads, each of which reinforced the sentries, and stood waiting for the
attack.

So silent and unchanged was everything when I played the part of guide,
and led my father and the General to where we had been watching, that my
heart sank, and I felt guilty of raising a false alarm.  Then I half
shrank away as I heard the General question the sentry, and he replied
that he had neither seen nor heard anything.  Just then my father turned
to me.

"Where's the boy?"

"Here, Pomp," I whispered; but I looked round in vain, and after a few
minutes' search I was fain to confess that he had gone.

"It is some trick," whispered my father, with suppressed anger.  "I
cannot hear a sound."

"No; I feel sure he was in earnest.  He certainly believed he saw the
Indians."

My father turned to the General, and they conversed together in a low
voice for some minutes, during which I stood there feeling as if I were
wrong, and forgetting that even if I were it was only a case of being
over anxious in our cause.

"No, no," I heard the General say quietly; "don't blame the boys.  Of
course it is vexatious, and seems like harassing the men for nothing;
but it has its good side, for it proves how quickly we can man our
defences.  Well, what do you say--shall we go back to our beds?  There
seems to be no danger.  Ah, here is Preston.  Well, have you been all
round?"

"Right round, sir, and there does not seem to be anything moving.  A
false alarm, I think."

"Yes," said the General, "a false alarm, and--What is it?"

My father had caught his arm in a strong grip, and pointed over the
palisade.

"I don't know what it is," he whispered; "but something is moving out
yonder, a hundred yards away."

Amidst a dead silence every eye was fixed in the direction pointed to by
my father; but no one else could make anything out, and the General
said--

"No; I cannot see it."

"Are you sure?" whispered my father.  "George, are you there?"

I replied in a whisper too, and crept to his side.

"Look.  Can you make out anything?" he said.

I looked long and intently, and was obliged to answer--

"No."

"Quick!  Try and find that boy," said my father, angrily now.  "He ought
to have been here."

_Bang_! _bang_!  Then report after report, followed by a volley quite
from the other side of the enclosure; and, horrible as it seemed,
followed as it was by a burst of yells, I felt my heart leap with
satisfaction.

There was a rush being made for the spot whence the firing had come; but
my father's voice rang out, calling upon the men to stand fast, and it
was well that his order was promptly obeyed, for almost immediately
after there was a whizzing sound that I well knew, accompanied by a
sharp series of pats as of arrows striking wood, and we knew that the
Indians were attacking on our side too.

Then followed the quick firm command, and the darkness was cut by the
flashes of a dozen fire-locks, whose reports went rolling away, to be
echoed by the great trees of the forest beyond the clearings.

Then nothing was heard but the quick beating and hissing of the iron
ramrods in the guns, while I stood close under the shelter of the fence,
listening intently in the terrible silence, and trying to make out
whether the Indians were near.

Again came the report of a firelock, and a volley from nearer the gate,
followed by a burst of yells; and a minute later a fresh volley, and the
same defiant shouting, just as if the Indians had made their attack in
four different places, but had been checked by the watchfulness of our
men, who had been thoroughly prepared for the attacks.

I was wondering to myself whether the Indians were in a body, and had
come on in one place, and then hurried on to the others, or were in four
different bodies; but my wonderings soon ceased, for I quite started at
hearing a voice close to my ear.

"No got arrow 'tick in um dis time, Mass' George.  Tell um Injum coming
again."

"Where?  Where?"  I whispered.

"Pomp see um crawl 'long de groun' like 'gator," he said.  "Dah--one,
two, tick, nineteen, twenty."

I gazed intently over the fence, but could only see the dark ground; but
Pomp's warning was too valuable to be trifled with.  He had proved
himself now, and I hurried to where my father stood ready with twenty of
our men, and told him.

He gave orders, and half the men fired slowly, one after the other, the
instructions being to those who held their fire, that if they could make
out the bodies of the crawling Indians by the flashing of their
comrades' pieces, they were to fire too.

The rapid scattered reports were followed by a furious burst of yells;
there was the rush of feet, sounds as of blows struck against the stout
poles, and directly after, dimly-seen against the starlit sky, dark
grotesque-looking heads appeared as at least a dozen of the Indians
gained the top of the defence, but only to be beaten back by the
butt-ends of the men's fire-locks, all save two who dropped over in our
midst, and fought desperately for a time before they were despatched.

As silence--an ominous silence full of danger and portent--fell upon us
again here, we could tell that quite as desperate a struggle was going
on at other points of the palisading.  Flash was succeeded by report and
yell, so loud and continuous that we knew now that the Indians were
delivering their attack in four different places; and more than once I
shuddered as I felt how terrible it would be should one of these bands
gain an entry.  I knew enough of such matters from old conversations
with my father, to be able to grasp that if a party did get in over the
stockade they would desperately attack one of our defending companies in
the rear, and the others in response to their yells would come on at the
same moment, when our numbers and discipline would be of little value in
a hand-to-hand attack with the lithe savages, whose axes and knives
would be deadly weapons at close quarters.

For quite half an hour the firing and yelling continued.  Then it ceased
as quickly as it had begun, and the Indians seemed to have retreated.

But there was no relaxation of our watchfulness, for we could not tell
but that in their silent furtive way the enemy were preparing for a
fresh assault, or perhaps merely resting and gathering together to come
on in one spot all at once.

"More likely to make a feint somewhere," I heard the General say to my
father.  "If they do it will be to make a big attack somewhere else, and
that is where the supports must be ready to flock down."

"You will see to that, sir?" said my father.

"Yes.  You and Preston cannot do better service," continued the General,
"so keep your places."

"Pomp," I whispered; "where are you?"

"Here, Mass' George."

"Let's go all round, and you can tell me where the Indians are gathering
now."

"Pomp go outside," he said, softly.  "Climb over."

"No, no; they would see and kill you."

"No.  Dey too 'tupid.  I go ober.  You gib leg lil hyste up."

"I tell you no.  Come along with me, and let's try and find out where
they are."

"Much too dark, Mass' George, but I look all de same, try and fine em."

"Quick then; come!"

We started off, creeping along silently close inside the great palisade,
and stopping to listen from time to time.

We had left one of the parties that defended the palisade close to the
far side of the gate behind for about twenty yards, when Pomp, who was
first, suddenly stopped short, caught me by the wrist, and said softly--

"You listum.  Injum dah."

I placed my ear close to the paling, and stood for a few moments unable
to make sure that the dull heavy rustling I heard meant anything; but at
last I felt at one with my companion, for I felt convinced that a strong
party was once more creeping up to the attack, and just to a spot where
the sentries had not been placed.



CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

Certainly there was a body of our defenders five-and-twenty yards away
in one direction, and sixty in another; but while the alarm was
spreading a dozen active Indians would be able to scale the fence.

At least so it seemed to me, as without hesitation I uttered a wild cry
for help, Pomp raising his voice to supplement mine.

"Here!  This way!  Here!  Indians!"  I shouted; and I heard the sound of
hurrying feet, and a sharp decisive order or two being given; but at the
same moment there was a peculiar scraping sound on the rough fence which
told me that the Indians were climbing over, and I stood hesitating,
puzzled as to whether it was my duty to run or stop where I was, so as
to keep up the alarm and guide our people through the darkness to the
exact spot.

All this was a matter of moments, and I hesitated too long.  I was
conscious of our people being close at hand; then of feeling Pomp
dragging at me, and saying something excitedly.  Then it was as if a big
mass had fallen from above, and I lay crushed down and senseless in a
darkness far greater than that of the night.

When I came to my senses again, I found that I was lying on my face with
something heavy across me, from beneath which I managed to creep at
last, shuddering the while, as I felt that it was the body of a dead or
wounded man.  Everything about me was still, but I could hear voices at
a distance, and I wondered what had taken place, and why I was left
there like that.

It was very puzzling, for my head was so confused that I could not
recollect what had taken place before, so as to understand why it was
that I was lying out there in the darkness, close to this wounded man.

At last I concluded to shout for help, and my lips parted, but no sound
came.  This startled me, and I began to tremble, for it was all so new
and strange.

But by degrees my brain grew clearer, and I began to have faint rays of
understanding penetrate my darkened mind.  These grew brighter and
brighter, till at last I was able to understand that I had been struck
down by a tremendous blow on the head, the very realisation of that fact
being accompanied by such acute pain, that I was glad to lie there
perfectly inert without thinking at all.

But this fit did not last long, and I could see now the matter in its
true light, and it all came back about how I gave the alarm, and must
have been standing there as the Indians came over, and I was struck down
at once.

Then as I lay there in the darkness, I began to recall how I had been
lying with some one across me, and half suffocating me.

I had crawled away a few yards in my half insensible condition, but now
a shuddering desire came over me to creep back, and find out who it was
that lay there dead or dying.

It was terrible, that feeling, for I felt that I must go, and as I crept
back, it was with the idea that it was probably one of those who would
be the first to rush to the defence of the palisade, and in a confused,
half-dreamy way, I found myself combating the fancy that it might be my
father.

I paused when about half-way back, afraid to go farther, but the intense
desire to know the worst came over me again, and I crept on and then
stopped with my hand raised, and held suspended over the prostrate
figure, afraid to move it and touch the body.

At last, and I uttered a faint sigh full of relief, for my hand had
fallen upon the bare breast of a man, and I knew that it must be one of
the Indians.  It was puzzling that he and I should be there, and no one
near, for I could not detect the presence of either of the sentries.
Where was everybody?  Some one was coming, though, the next minute, for
I heard soft footsteps, and then the murmur of voices, which came nearer
and nearer till I heard a familiar voice say--

"Oh, Mass' George, do 'peak."

I tried to obey, but no sound would come, even now that I felt a vast
sense of relief, for I knew that I must have been hurt, and the two
blacks were in search of me.

"Ah, here him are," suddenly cried Pomp, and I next felt two great hands
lifting me gently, and I was carried through the darkness to what I knew
must be the block-house, where I had some recollection of being laid
down.  Then I directly went off to sleep, and did not awake till nearly
day, to see a black face close to the rough pallet on which I lay, and
as the day grew broader, I made out that it was Pomp watching by my
side.

"Mass' George better now?"

"Better?  Yes; I am not ill," I said, and I tried to get up, but lay
still again, for the effort seemed to give me a violent pain in the head
which made me groan.

"Mass' George not seem very better."

"But I am.  I'll get up directly.  But tell me, Pomp, how was it all?"

"How was?"

"Yes; how did it happen?"

"Done know, Mass' George.  'Pose Injum come over big fence and jump on
and knock poor lil nigger and Mass' George down.  Den um hab big fight
an kill de Injum, an noder big fight by de gate an kill more Injum, and
den Injum say good-night, time go to bed, an dat's all."

"The Indians gone?"

"Yes; all gone."

"Then we have beaten them.  Hurrah!  Oh, my head!"

"Hurrah--oh my head!" cried Pomp, in imitation.  "Why say `Hurrah!  Oh,
my head'?"

"Oh, don't, Pomp.  You make me laugh."

"Dat right; glad see Mass' George laugh.  Mass' George couldn't laugh
lil bit when Pomp fess um fader carry um."

"No; I remember now.  I had forgotten."

"Mass' Dockor say good job Mass' George got tick head, or kill um."

"Did the doctor say that, Pomp?"

"Yes, Mass' Dockor say dat.  Injum hit um wif um lil chopper, same time
some one shoot and kill Injum; den Pomp knock down, and all jump on um,
and dey pick um up, and take um 'way, and bring um here."

"Then were you hurt too?"

"Yes, hurt dreffle, and dockor laugh, and say nuffum matter wif um, and
send um 'way 'gain.  Den Pomp go an' fine um fader, and come an' fine
Mass' George, and bring um here.  Dockor no laugh at Mass' George, ony
say, `Poor fellow!' and `Put um to bed,' an' `Good job um got such tick
head,' and put plaster on um."

I raised my hand to my head, and sure enough there was some
sticking-plaster there.

"Does my father know?"  I said, as a sudden thought occurred to me.

"Pomp done know, Mass' George.  Haben see Mass' Capen long time."

Our conversation was checked by the entrance of the doctor, who smiled
as he saw me sitting up on the rude bed.

"Well, squire," he said, "you seem determined to be a patient.  How are
you now?"

"My head aches a good deal."

"No wonder, my lad, you got an ugly crack with the flat of a tomahawk.
The man must have slipped as he was leaping from the fence.  A narrow
escape for you."

"But the Indians are beaten off," I said, eagerly.

"For the present at all events.  But they may attack again to-night, and
I am beginning to be busy."

"Must I stop here, sir?"

"Certainly not, if you feel well enough to get up."

At that moment a shadow darkened the door, and my father came in
quickly, followed by Hannibal.

"George?  Hurt?" he exclaimed, huskily.

"Not much, father," I said, "and the doctor says I may get up."

"Thank Heaven!" muttered my father.  Then aloud, "I have only just heard
from Hannibal here.  You gave me a terrible fright."

My father took hold of my hands to hold them in his for a few moments,
as he looked full in my eyes; and I wondered at it, for I was not old
enough then to understand his emotion, nor to think I was bad enough to
stop in bed.

Ten minutes later I was out in the enclosure, and learned a little more
about what had taken place after I was knocked down insensible.  How
there had been several hand-to-hand encounters where the Indians had
determinedly climbed over and gained a footing, from which they were
dislodged directly, with the result that several were killed and
wounded--four of our party also having ugly wounds.

As I was going across the enclosure, hearing how the enemy had been
finally beaten off, and had retreated into the forest, where it was not
considered safe to follow them, Colonel Preston met us, looking jaded
and anxious, but his face brightened up as he saw me, and he came up and
shook hands.

"Why, George Bruton, you are a lucky fellow," he cried, laughingly.
"Two wounds.  This is grand.  Of course he must be promoted, Bruton, as
soon as peace is proclaimed."

"Why, George," said my father, as we went on, "what's the matter?"

"I don't like to be laughed at, father," I said; "and Colonel Preston
was making fun of me, as if I were a little child."

"He did not mean it unkindly.  There, come and have some light
breakfast, and you must keep out of the su