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Mass' George: A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 37 |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. That day passed quietly enough, with scouts going and coming to report that the Indians' trail was plainly to be seen going along the north bank of our little stream, as if they were making right away for their own country, and after the scouts had gone as far as they dared, they had returned with their good news. This was quickly debated in a little council, and the result was a firm determination not to put any faith in appearances, but to keep everything on a war footing, scouting carefully so as not to be surprised by an enemy full of cunning and treachery; and though there was some little demur amongst those whose houses and plantations were farthest from the fort, all soon settled down to what resolved itself during the next week into a pleasant kind of camping out. Rough tents were rigged up, and the different parties vied with each other in their efforts to make their homes attractive. Fresh things were brought in by the help of the slaves from the most outlying of the houses, and when lights were lit in the evening the place looked pretty in the extreme, so that more than once I found myself thinking that we were to be the only sufferers from the Indian attack, and wondered, now that the enemy had had so severe a lesson read them, how long it would be before my father decided to go back and get our neighbours' help to rebuild the house. A fortnight glided by--fourteen days of uninterruptedly fine weather. I had almost forgotten my injuries. Pomp had taken his wounded limb out of the sling, and only remembered the injury when he tried to move his hand, when he would utter a cry and begin softly rubbing the place. Sarah too was recovering fast, and I knew no reason now why we should still go on living such a military life, with the General and his officers seeming to take delight in drilling, practising the men in the use of their weapons, and setting guards by night, and sending out scouts by day, with the gates closed rigorously at a certain time. There was another thing done too, the idea being suggested by my father--a lesson taught by our own misfortune--and this was that every tub and cask that could be obtained in the settlement should be put about in handy places, and kept well filled with water always, these being supplemented by pails and buckets, which every one was bound to set outside his place full of water every night, while the men were all well practised in the extremely simple art of passing and refilling buckets--so as to be ready in case of fire. "There's some talk of giving up all this here playing at soldiers, Master George," said Morgan to me one day. "Is there?" I said, eagerly. "Yes, and if you ar'n't tired of it, I am. Never so much as had a chance to go out and scout like the others have." "Well, I haven't either, nor Hannibal, nor Pomp." "No, my lad; but if you don't tie down that jockey or chain him by the leg, he'll be off one of these days. I'm always finding him sitting a-top of the fence like a crow with his wing cut, thinking he wished he could fly." "Looking out for the Indians," I said. "Not him, sir; he's thinking about games in the woods; hunting snakes, catching 'gators, or killing 'coons. He's getting a nice howdacious one, he is. If it wasn't for his black skin, you might think he was a reg'lar boy." "So he is," I said; "what difference does his skin make? I like old Pomp." "Well, sir," said Morgan, thoughtfully, "I like old Hannibal--old Vanity, as you call him; but you know he is black." "Of course." "Very black, Master George. Why, I should say he's got the blackest skin and the whitest teeth of any one I ever did see." "And I dare say he thinks you've got the whitest skin and the blackest teeth he ever saw." "Now--now--now--now--Master George; gently there, if you please. My skin's getting redder and browner every day, so as I don't half know myself when I shaves; and as to my teeth, just wait till you've used yours five-and-forty year, and had to eat such beef as I've had to eat in the army, and you won't be quite so proud of them bits o' ivory of yours, look you." "Why don't you leave off saying 'Look you,' Morgan? It's always 'Look you,' or 'Teclare to cootness,' and it does sound so stupid." "Not it, my lad," said Morgan, proudly. "It's that which shows I belong to the Ancient British." "Nonsense! You're a Welshman." "Ah, you call me so, my lad, but I belong to the genuwyne old British stock. You ask the captain if I don't. And as to my teeth, why, when we was out with the army, I believe they used to buy all the old bulls, and the older and harder they were the better they used to like 'em." "Why?" "Because they used to go the further. Ah, we did a lot of fighting on it though, and I thought I'd come to the end of that sort of thing; but it don't seem like it. Oh, how I do long to have a spade or a hoe in my hand again. I say, Master George." "Well?" I said, as I lay in the sun enjoying my returning strength, for it came back fast. "Think the master really means to go back and build up the house again?" "Yes, I'm sure of it," I said. "That's a good job, my lad, for it would be heartbreaking to know that all we've done out there, planting fruit-trees and getting the place in such nice trim, should be 'lowed to go back again to ruin, and grow over into forest wilds, as it would in a year or two." "Ah, that would be a pity, Morgan," I said, eagerly, as I thought of the fruit-trees and the vines. "I say, look here, Master George, I'm 'bout heart-broke over that garden. I want to see what it's like. We all might go for a day and torment some of them weeds, and keep things from getting worse, and see what mischief the Indians did." "Yes; I should like to go and see that," I said, thoughtfully. "Should you, my lad? Then let's go." I shook my head, for I saw a lot of difficulties in the way. "Nay, nay; now don't do that, lad. I teclare to coot--" "Morgan!" I shouted. "Well, look you, dear boy--" "Morgan!" "Oh, dear me, how is a man to speak! I was going to say, I did ask some of them who went scouting, and they'd got it all pat enough about how the house was a heap of ashes, but I don't believe one of 'em so much as looked at the garden, and I know there's things ready in those beds as would be a blessing to us now." "A heap of ashes!" I said, sadly. "Yes, Master George; but think of the barrow-loads there'll be, and they'll be worth anything for the garden nicely spread about." "I should like to go and see the old place," I said, thoughtfully. "Then ask the captain, lad. Do. He's just over yonder talking to the colonel. Hist! Here he comes. Ask him--do." "Well, George," said my father, coming up. "Ah, Morgan. Want to speak to me?" "Well, sir, I--er--that is, I think Master George does." "No, father; it's Morgan, only he's afraid." "Nay, nay, not afraid, Master George. Don't say that. On'y a bit okkard over it. But I will speak if you're afraid to." "What is it?" said my father. "Well, father, it's this; Morgan--" "Oh, Master George!" "--And I think we should like to go over to the old place and see what it looks like." "And take a tool or two, sir; and go early and tidy up the garden a bit." "Well," said my father, thoughtfully, "I don't see why you should not. I was thinking of something of the kind, now that the Indians seem to be gone for good." "Then when may we go, father?" "I'll speak to the General, and if he sees no objection you shall go to-morrow morning, first thing, if you feel well enough." "Oh, father!" I exclaimed, with a thrill of delight running through me, for it was as if I was to be freed from prison. "You will not be able to do much, Morgan," said my father, thoughtfully; "but you might take a billhook and cut back a little of the overgrowth, for we must not be beaten. George, my boy, we must go back and make the place more beautiful than it was before; for it is a beautiful land, if man would not blot it with his cruelties and evil deeds." I saw that his eyes were fixed upon the corner of the enclosure, where the blacks were gathered. "Then we may go, father?" I said. "If the General approves. No one can stir outside the gates without his orders now." He turned and walked to the central part where the General's furniture was piled up, and he had been living as humbly as the rest; and in less than half an hour he was back, just in fact as Morgan was saying, grumblingly-- "It's all over, my lad; the governor won't let us go." "The General gives his consent," said my father, "provided that you are very careful; so the next thing is, how do you propose to go?" "Walk across," I said. "No; decidedly not. You will take the boat. There she lies safe enough with the others. You can have Hannibal and Pompey to row, and Morgan and the black can be both well-armed, for that man is very trustworthy. But of course you will all be very cautious. You can send out that boy in different directions to scout; not that there is any danger, but we must treat this as an enemy's country, and be prepared." "Yes, father, we'll be very careful; and we may go soon in the morning?" "As soon as you like. Get your bag of provisions ready to-night. Morgan, you can be passed through the gates now. Have the boy with you, and see that the boat is baled out and cleaned." "Yes, sir," said Morgan; and as soon as my father had gone we two shook hands in our delight, for Morgan was as excited as I. "Hurrah, Master George!" he cried. "What a day we will have! I'm off to find Pomp. You go and tell old Han. Won't they be just pleased too!" We parted on the instant, and five minutes later I found father and son together, and told them my news, with the result that Hannibal smiled with pleasure, and Pomp threw himself down on the ground to writhe and twist and worm about till he heard Morgan's voice summoning him to go and help to bale out the boat. _ |
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