Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the "Seafowl" Sloop > This page
Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the "Seafowl" Sloop, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 36. "Berry Much 'Fraid" |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. "BERRY MUCH 'FRAID" Julius Caesar, after getting over his first fear of the white strangers and a natural dread of the fierce American slaver, whose threats seemed to dominate his life, threw himself bravely into the enterprise upon which he was engaged and proved himself to be an admirable guide, one too with a full knowledge of the risks he ran. He grew more and more confident now of the strength to protect him of the man-o'-war's men, and every now and then, as the party continued its way along what proved to be a carefully constructed tunnel, he stopped short and whispered to Murray to shade the light while he hurried on into the pitchy darkness. The first time he did this, after laying his black arm across both Murray's and the lieutenant's breasts, he seemed to be so long gone that the latter expressed it as his belief that he had tricked them and escaped; but this opinion had hardly been whispered in the middy's ear before there was a faint rustling as of bare feet heard, and then, breathing hard, the black was close upon them. "Come 'long now, massa," he said. "Show light now." Thrice more this was repeated, and then all at once upon their guide's return he exclaimed-- "Massa put out light now." "What for?" said Murray sharply. "Candle burn all away sure. Wantum go back. All dark." "But how are you going to light it?" said Mr Anderson. "July Caesar got lilly bottle o' fire; massa Allen lilly bottle, sah." "But we can't see in the darkness," said Murray. "Take hol' hand. Caesar show way. See with one hand run along top wall." Setting aside the seeing, the black soon proved to those who followed him that he could feel his way along the rest of the distance, during which it was quite dark; and he hurried his followers along till the black gloom gradually became twilight, and that increased in power till it became possible to follow the dimly seen figure which went on in front. Then the twilight became a pale green, which grew brighter and brighter till all at once the black stopped short and whispered-- "No make noise. Caesar go first and see Massa Huggin gone take Massa Allen 'way." The party stopped and saw the black hurry on for a few dozen yards, and then disappear through what seemed to be a clump of bushes, which pretty well blocked up the end of the passage. "I should like to know what's going to be the end of this," said the lieutenant; "but I suppose we must go on with it now and trust the black, for he seems to be proving himself honest. What do you say, Mr Murray?" "I feel sure he is," replied the midshipman. "But his motive? We are almost complete strangers." "I think he is a faithful servant of the planter, sir, and wants us to save him from danger." "Yes, that's how it suggests itself to me, Mr Murray, though I can hardly understand such conduct on the part of one of these wretched ill-used slaves towards the oppressor. But there, we shall see." He ceased speaking, for just then the black seemed to spring through the bushes, and joined them where they were waiting in the tunnel. "Find Massa Allen," said the black, in a quick excited whisper. "Ah!" cried Murray joyfully, for somehow--he could not have said why--he had begun to feel the greatest interest in the sick man. "Ah! Where did you find him?" "Massa Huggin got um." "But where is he?" The black pointed in the direction from whence he had returned, evidently indicating the forest which closed in the end of the tunnel. "What is he going to do with him?" asked Mr Anderson--"Keep him a prisoner?" "Kill um," said the black abruptly. "Come! Caesar show um;" and he caught hold of the middy's arm, gave it a tug, and then signed to the others to follow. "Yes," said the lieutenant sharply; "it seems to me quite time we had a word to say about that. Let him lead on, Mr Murray. I want to have a few more words with our friend Mr Huggins. We must show him that there is a difference of opinion upon this question. Here, you darkie, does Mr Huggins indulge himself much in this kind of sport?" The black, who was moving off sharply, stopped short, dropped his lower jaw to his breast, and stared vacantly at the speaker. "What buccra sailor officer say?" he whispered. "Don't speak in that way," said the lieutenant sharply. "Why don't you speak aloud?" "Caesar berry much 'fraid massa Huggins hear um. Den kill poor niggah." "That means, then, that Master Huggins does kill people sometimes?" "Yes, massa often kill pore niggah when cross." "Well, look here, my lad; don't you be very much afraid. I want you to show us all you can, for he is not going to kill our friend Master Allen." "Massa Allen friend," said the black, nodding his head sharply. "Massa Allen kill pore niggah? No, nebber. Come 'long." The man led the way, holding tightly by the middy's arm, and as soon as he had passed out of the tunnel, plunged into the dense forest, and threading his way among the trees, followed by the party, whose countenances were glowing with excitement, he carefully avoided every patch of earth which threatened to yield to the pressure of footsteps. This he kept on for over half-an-hour, when he stopped short and, bending down nearly double, pointed to where, instead of being firm, the way he had selected had suddenly become boggy, mossy, and of a rich green. "Young officer, look dah," he whispered. "No speak loud. Massa Huggin men hear um." "Well," said Murray, "I am looking _dah_, sir, but there is nothing to see." "No see? Caesar see. Massa Huggin men come 'long. Carry Massa Allen, make men foot go down soft. Make mark." "Perhaps so," said Murray, "but I can see nothing." "Let him lead on, Mr Murray," said the lieutenant. "I want to get to business." "Caesar show," whispered the man, and now, walking half doubled and with his hands hanging down, he broke into a trot, closely followed by the party, for another few hundred yards, before stopping short so suddenly that those who followed were on the point of over-running him. "Massa officer look now," whispered the black. "Massa no say can't see now." "No: I can see now," said Murray. "Look here, sir," he whispered, imitating the cautious utterance of the black, as the lieutenant closed up to him. "Yes," said the officer eagerly; "this is real trail. So many seals impressed in the soft boggy soil; all leading off yonder in a fresh direction after evidently making a halt here. You can make it out, Mr Murray, eh?" "I can make out the footsteps, sir," replied the lad, "but I can't say I understand them." "Oh no, of course not," said the lieutenant, "but I suppose our black friend here can. Tell us all about it, what's your name--Caesar?" "Yes, massa," said the black promptly; and he began eagerly to point out the various impressions in the earth, carefully keeping on one side and nearly touching the ground as he bent down. "Dose niggah foots," he whispered, picking out carefully the trails of four pairs of footsteps which had passed to where they stood, evidently coming to an end. "Yes, sah; dose niggah foots. Carry Massa Allen. All 'tick down deep in de mud." "Ah, to be sure!" cried Murray. "I see." "Dey get tire' carry Massa Allen long way. No, Caesar t'ink Massa Allen say he walk bit now, and jump down. Dose Massa Allen foots. Got shoe on. Massa officer see?" "To be sure he does, darkie. Well done! You see, Mr Murray?" "Oh yes, sir; I can see now he shows me." "Yes; young buccra officer see Massa Allen shoe 'tick down in de mud. Dose black niggah foots," continued the black, pointing. "How do you know they are black footsteps?" asked Murray. "All a toes 'tick out wide," replied the man promptly; and he raised one of his own feet with the toes spreading widely, stepped to a soft patch of green-covered mud, and pressed his foot down and raised it again. "Dah," he continued; "Massa buccra see? Dat black niggah foots, and dat are white man foot. Look toopid all queezum up in hard boot. Dat Massa Huggin foots." "Ah!" cried the lieutenant eagerly. "How do you know, darkie?" "Massa Huggin put foots in big hard boot. Caesar know um--kick Caesar. 'Get outah way, black dog!' he say." As he spoke the black went through something of a pantomime so perfectly that the lieutenant and Roberts burst out laughing. Murray's countenance remained unchanged, and he met the black's eyes gravely, and noted their fierce aspect as his brow wrinkled up and his thick, fleshy, protuberant lips were drawn away from the beautifully perfect white teeth. "Hurt pore black niggah, massa," he said, rather piteously. "Kill some niggah. Massa Huggin sabage. Pore niggah die dead. Hurt Caesar sometime. Wouldn't die." "Well, go on, my lad," said the lieutenant; and the black continued his object-lesson. "Massa Allen say walk now. Look at um foots. Lilly shoe dah, big boot, hard boot, dah. One boot, 'noder boot. Massa Huggin say Come along, sah. Look dah. Walk 'long dah, and niggah foots walk over um. Lot o' niggah foots walk all over cover um up." "Well," said the lieutenant, "now you have found out the trail so well, lead on and let's overtake them." "Ah!" cried the black excitedly, for he had suddenly caught sight of something at which he bounded and caught it up to hold it before him and gaze at it with starting eyes. "What does that mean, Mr Murray?" said the lieutenant, in a low tone, his attention having been thoroughly taken up by the intelligent black's behaviour. "I don't quite know, sir. It's a soft piece of plantain stalk notched at the edge in a peculiar way. Look, sir." For, paying no more heed to his companions for the moment, the black began to search about to the right of the trail, till he suddenly bounded on for a few paces and caught up a piece of green cane about six inches long and evidently scratched in a special manner. "What's that, Caesar?" asked the middy. The black, who was gazing at the piece of cane with fixed and staring eyes which seemed to glow, started at the lad's address, and pressed forward to look him questioningly in the eyes, hesitating. Then he smiled and nodded. "Massa buccra. Good Bri'sh sailor. Come set pore niggah free. Him no tell Massa Huggin. Him no kill pore black darkie. Iss, Caesar tell um," he whispered now, with his lips so close that the lad felt the hot breath hiss into his ear. "Dat Obeah, massa. Dat black man's Obeah. Come along now Caesar know. Find fetish. Plenty many black boy speak soon." "But you are going the wrong way," said Murray, clapping the black upon the shoulder to draw him back. "No, sah. Caesar go right way. Way Obeah tell um." "But Mr Allen: we want to follow Mr Allen." "No can, sah. Not now. Come back. Not time yet." "But you said that this Huggins would kill Mr Allen now that he has got him away." "No," said the black, shaking his head. "No kill um now. Plenty black boy 'top um; no let um kill Massa Allen. Come back now. Massa wait." "Oh, nonsense!" cried the lieutenant. "I am not going to be treated like this. Look here, you sir; you must go on and follow up the trail till we overtake this slaving scoundrel and make him prisoner. Do you hear?" The black listened, and looked at the speaker gravely, but made no reply. "Do you hear, sir?" cried the lieutenant again. "Speak to him, Mr Murray; he seems to listen to you better than he does to me." "I'll try, sir," said Murray, "but I'm afraid he will not stir now." "You tell him that he must, sir." Murray repeated the lieutenant's words, with the result that the black listened to him with a face that for a few moments looked dull and obstinate, but which changed to a softer aspect as his bright eyes looked full in those of the frank young midshipman, before they closed slowly and their owner shook his head. "Come, Mr Murray," said the chief officer; "you are not making the fellow understand." "No, sir," said Murray gravely, "and I am afraid he is not to be forced." Then the lad's eyes flashed with annoyance, for Roberts glanced at him and said to his leader-- "Shall I try, sir?" "Yes, do. These people want to be made to understand that when they receive orders they must obey them." "Yes, sir," cried Roberts, making the most of himself, as he frowned at their black guide. "Murray is too easy with them. Here, you sir--" Here Roberts's speech was cut short by the lieutenant, who had been watching the change in Murray's countenance, and he exclaimed-- "That will do, Mr Roberts, thank you. I think I can manage the matter better myself. Here, what's your name--Caesar?" "Yes, sah; Caesar," said the black; and Murray looked at him sharply, for the man's manner seemed completely changed. "Then listen to me. You ought to have learned with the power to speak English that a servant must obey his master." The black drew himself up with his face growing hard from his setting his teeth firmly. "Massa Huggin make me servant and call me slabe; beat me--flog me--but I was prince once, sah, in Obeah land." The lieutenant's face flushed and he was about to speak angrily, but there was something in the slave's manner that checked him, and the two middies looked at him wonderingly, as instead of giving some stern order he said in a quiet, matter-of-fact, enquiring way-- "Indeed? So you were a prince or chief in your own country?" "Yes, sah," was the reply; and it was given with such calm dignity that colour, the half-nude figure, and the blur of slavery were forgotten by the lookers-on, and the feeling of wonder at the lieutenant's treatment of their guide died out. "How came you here?" said the lieutenant quietly. "There was war, sah, and my people were beaten. There were many prisoners, and we were sold to the man--sold." "Hah! Hard--very hard for you," said the lieutenant, looking at their guide thoughtfully. "How long is that ago?" "Twenty year, sah." "And you have been this Mr Huggins's slave ever since?" "No, sah; not long time. Caesar sold free time before Mr Allen bought me; and he was good massa. He call me Caesar, and make me lub him." "Not for christening you Caesar, of course. Then he treated you well?" "Yes, sah. Then Massa Huggin come and make Massa Allen like slave." "Indeed! Well, I have heard something of this from Mr Allen himself, and you will most likely see that this slave-driving scoundrel's reign is over. Do you understand my English?" "Yes, massa," said the black quietly. "Then you quite understand that you have been helping me as guide so that we can save Mr Allen from this man, and punish him for all the evil he has done--I mean for this buying and selling of the poor blacks who are brought from Africa here?" "Yes, massa." "Then why do you refuse to go on guiding us to find Mr Allen?" "Massa no understand," said the black quietly. "Caesar want to save Massa Allen. Caesar want to kill Massa Huggin." "Do you?" said the lieutenant, smiling. "Well, we do not ask you to do that. We will manage the punishing; but I want you to go on guiding me and my men to where this slave-dealer is." "Yes, massa. Caesar want too, but massa mus' wait." "What for? Why should we wait?" "Massa no understand." "I understand from your behaviour that you are afraid," said the lieutenant sternly. "No, massa; not now. Caesar drefful 'fraid lil bit ago. Not now. Caesar want to save Massa Allen, but not time yet, massa. Bri'sh officer wait lil while." "Why?" said the lieutenant sharply. "Massa no understand. Massa go now and find Massa Huggin. Take one, two--five, ten man Bri'sh sailor; Massa Huggin got ten, twenty, forty, fifty men sword gun plenty powder shot. Plenty 'nough to kill officer and Bri'sh sailor. Plenty strong; two ship. Kill everybody; Massa Allen too. Massa no good." "But how do I know that my men would not be too many for this scoundrel?" "No, not many. Not 'nuff, sah," said the black, shaking his head. "Then you think we had better go back to the ship and fetch more men?" The black shook his head and smiled sadly. "Caesar 'fraid massa get killed, sailor get killed, Caesar too get killed. Massa officer must wait." The lieutenant gazed at the speaker searchingly, while the black returned his keen examination without flinching. "Why must I wait?" he said. "Too soon, massa. Time not come." "Time for what? To give Mr Huggins time to collect his men? He has plenty of black sailors, has he not?" "Yes, massa. Hundred, two hundred, tree hundred." "So I supposed. Well, I do not feel disposed to wait longer than it will take me to get up some more of my men--as many as the captain can spare--and then I shall attack at once." "No massa can," said the black quietly. "Oh yes, I can, because you who have served us as guide so well, and who want to save your master, will show us the way." "No, massa. Caesar no show the way." "Why not?" said the lieutenant angrily. "Massa Bri'sh officer and all men be killed. Massa must wait." "And if I say I will not wait?" cried Mr Anderson. "Caesar show Massa Bri'sh officer why must wait." "When will you show me?" asked the lieutenant sharply. The black stood silent for a few moments as if debating within himself sadly and doubtfully. Then turning his eyes upon Murray, his own brightened, and he thrust his hand within the cotton shirt which loosely covered his breast and shoulders. Then quickly drawing out the piece of young notched cane and the marked plantain leaf, he looked at them eagerly, turning them over in his hands and seeming to read the marks that were cut through rind and skin. As he did this the black's face brightened and he seemed to have found the way out of a difficulty as he held out the tokens of something or another to Murray. "What have you there, my man?" cried the lieutenant. "Obeah, massa. Fetish. Massa officer come with Caesar to-night, Caesar show him why wait." "Come with you alone?" said the lieutenant. The black shook his head. "No, massa come bring massa officer, Bri'sh sailor. Come and see. Caesar not 'fraid now. Massa come to-night." "Come where?" cried Mr Anderson. "Caesar show." "You will show me a good reason why I should wait?" "Yes, massa. Come 'long now." "Come now? Where to?" "Massa Allen sleep house. Come 'long. Caesar show." And without waiting for further question or order, the black thrust the tokens he had found into his breast as he made his way back into the tunnelled passage, where he drew out the phosphorus bottle and taper, lit the latter and then led the way as swiftly as his companions could follow, the taper just lasting long enough to light the party back to within hearing of a call from the guards awaiting them anxiously at the entrance. "Now for our rations, my lad, and a rest," said the lieutenant, as all stood once more in the cottage room and watched the black deftly replace the trap, drawing over it the rug and making all that had passed seem to the two midshipmen and the chief officer as if they had been taking part in a dream. _ |
||