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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 42 |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY TWO. Morning at last, after the horrors of that eventful night. Every one looked jaded and despondent; but as the sun rose, and the women and children were allowed to leave the confinement of the prison-like block-house to return to their larger tents and shelters, a good deal of the misery and discomfort was forgotten. For as soon as it was day a couple of scouting parties issued from the gate and advanced cautiously through the plantations, tracing the course of the Indians easily enough, and following it up to the forest. The advance was made with the greatest precaution, the men stealing from garden to plantation, and from fence to fence, expecting to receive arrows at any moment, and with their fire-locks ready to reply to the first inimical shot. But no arrow sped toward them as they scouted on past the ruined houses; and the men's countenances grew sadder as they passed the smouldering heaps of ashes, and grasped their pieces more firmly, longing for an opportunity to punish the wretches who were destroying our homes. My father took command of one of these scouting parties, and after a little persuasion he gave me his consent that we two boys should accompany it. He refused at first, but on my pointing out how keen Pomp's sight and sense of hearing were, he reluctantly said yes, and we went slowly on. We stopped at each burned home we passed, to see how complete the destruction was; and, though I said nothing to my father, I could not help comparing the piles of newly-charred wood, and ashes to what I had seen at our own clearing. It was exciting work as we went on, with our eyes fixed upon every spot likely to afford shelter to an Indian. The men spread out, and worked round clump of trees or patch of cane. But no Indian was seen, and at last we approached the forest. Here Pomp was invaluable. He seemed to have no sense of fear, in spite of the experiences he had gone through; and again and again he had to be checked and kept from rushing among the trees, where the enemies might have been lying waiting in force. He was not long in pointing out the place where the Indians had left the shelter of the forest, and soon after he found out another spot where it was quite as plain that they had returned--evidently working in a regularly organised way; and at first sight, as we gazed down at the footprints, one might have thought that only one man had passed, but my father explained to me how one seemed to have stepped in another's track, which had grown deeper and broader, till it was plainly marked wherever the soil was soft. As soon as Pomp had pointed this out, he was for diving in among the densely-clustered trees, which began directly cultivation ended, just beyond where their fellows had been levelled and dragged away, leaving the stumps in many cases standing out of the ground with the crops between. But my father sternly called him back, and, satisfied that the enemy was not within touch, as proved by the fact that no arrow had sped towards us, the word was passed along the widespread line from our centre to the extreme ends, and we retreated, leaving three videttes under shelter in commanding positions, where they could at once see if any Indian scouts left the edge of the forest, and so give the alarm. As we marched back toward the fort through the plantations, which were already displaying the effects of neglect, I asked my father if he did not think it possible that the Indians might be watching us all the time. "They were watching Morgan and me that day when we killed the rattlesnake," I said. "It is quite possible," he replied, turning to me directly; "but we could do no more. My orders were to search the ground, and make sure that no Indians were lurking in the plantations. I have done that. To have attempted to enter the forest with the few men under my orders would have been to invite destruction without doing any good." "Yes, I see, father," I replied. "They may have been lying in hiding only a short distance in, but I scarcely think so. The temptation to destroy from their lurking-places, whence they could shoot at us unseen, would have been too great." By this time we had reached the gate, and we filed in for my father to go and make his report of what he had done to our commanding officer, while I went with Pomp to where Hannibal was playing the part of cook, and waiting our return. "What's the matter?" I said to my companion, who was looking disturbed and sulky. "Why come back?" he said. "Why not go shoot all um Injum, and--" Pomp stopped short and gave a loud sniff. He had smelt food, and nothing else had the smallest interest for him now till his wants had been supplied. A busy day was spent in perfecting our means of defence against the enemy we dreaded now the most. Blankets were laid ready by twos, and men were drilled in the use to which they were to be put if the block-house was fired. For they were to be rapidly spread here and there and deluged with water, scouting parties being sent out to each of the uninjured homes in turn to collect any tubs or barrels that had been overlooked before. The men worked well, and a cheer was sent up whenever some barrel was rolled in from one of the farther dwellings and carried up to the block-house roof, and filled ready. But at last there was nothing more to be done in this direction, and we rested from our labours. So great had been the stress of the previous night, that the men were ordered to lie down to sleep in turns, so as to be prepared for a fresh alarm; but it was a long time before I could close my eyes as I lay under the canvas. I was weary, of course, but too weary, and though I closed my eyes tightly, and said I would go to sleep, there was always something to battle against it. At one time, just as I fancied I was dozing off, there was the sound of footsteps and a burst of laughter from some of the children, who raced about in the hot sunshine untroubled by the dangers that threatened. As I lay listening, and recognising the sport in which they were engaged, I could not help wishing that I was a child, and not mixed up with all these terrors just as if I were a man. "If we could only be at peace again!" I thought; and I lay wakeful, still thinking of the garden, the growing fruit, the humming-birds that whirred about like great insects among the flowers, and emitted a bright flash every now and then as the sun glanced from their scale-like feathers. Then I pictured the orioles too, that pale yellow one with the black back and wings, and the gay orange and black fellow I so often saw among the trees. "How beautiful it all used to be!" I sighed. "Why can't the Indians leave us alone?" At last I grew drowsy, and lay dreamily fancying it was a hot, still night at home with the window open, and the cry of the whip-poor-will-- that curious night-jar--coming from out of the trees of the swamp far beyond the stream where the alligators bellowed and the frogs kept up their monotonous, croaking roar. _Buzz_--_oooz_--_oooz_! "Bother the flies!" I was wide-awake with the sun glaring on the canvas, and a great fly banging against it, knocking and butting its head and wings, when all the time there was the wide opening through which it had come ready for it to fly out. "Ugh! You stupid thing," I muttered, pettishly, as I lay watching it hardly awake, thinking I would get up and catch it, or try to drive it out; but feeling that if I did I should only kill it or damage it so that its life would be a misery to it, make myself hotter than I was, and perhaps not get rid of the fly after all. "Well," I cried, pettishly, "that's too bad!" For there was a fresh buzzing. Another fly had dashed in, and the two were playing a duet that was maddening to my overwrought senses. "Now, what can be the use of flies?" I said, pettishly. "They are insufferable: buzzing, teasing, and stinging, making the whole place miserable." I was in such an overstrung state from want of rest and excitement that I found myself thinking all kinds of nonsense, but there was some common-sense mixed up with it, like a few grains of oats amongst a great deal of the rough tares in which they grew, and I began to look at the state of affairs from the other point of view, as I watched those two flies darting here and there in zigzag, or sailing round and round, to every now and then encounter with a louder buzz, and dart off again. And in spite of my vexation, I found myself studying them, and thinking that small as they were their strength was immense. Compared to mine it was astounding. I walked a few miles and I was weary, but here were they apparently never tiring, darting here and there with their wings vibrating at such an astounding rate that they were invisible. _Whizz_--_whuzz_--_dash_!--here, there, and everywhere with lightning-like rapidity. "It's wonderful," I said at last, and I thought how strange it was that I had never thought of such a thing before. "Now I dare say," I found myself saying, "they think that we are as great a nuisance as we think them, for putting up a rough canvas tent like this, and catching them so that they cannot get out. Stuff! I don't believe flies can think, or else they would be able to find the way out again." _Buzz_--_buzz_! _buzz_--_buzz_! A regular heavy, regular long-drawn breathing that grew louder now after a rustling sound, and I knew at once that it was Pomp who had turned round, got into an uncomfortable position, and was now drawing his breath in a way that closely resembled a snore. "Oh, you tiresome wretch!" I muttered. "How dare you go and sleep soundly when I am so tired out that I can't?" At last in utter despair I rose, pulled off my loose coat so as only to retain shirt and breeches, bathed my face in a bucket just outside, and could not resist the temptation to sprinkle a few drops on Pomp's face as he lay there fast asleep in the shade. But they had not the slightest effect, and I crept into our rough tent again, smoothed the blanket, and lay down and closed my eyes once more, while the two flies were joined by another, and the buzzing was louder than ever. "Go on," I said; "I don't care. One can't go to sleep in the daytime, but one can rest one's legs;" and as I said this pettishly I knew it was not true, for Pomp's heavy breathing came plainly through the canvas to prove how thoroughly I was in the wrong. So giving up all idea of going to sleep, I lay there on my back, looking up at the fabric of the canvas, through which every now and then there was a faint ray of sunshine so fine that a needle-point would have been large in comparison. Then I began to think about my father, and what a deal of care and anxiety he seemed to have; how sad he generally was; and I set his grave manner down to the real cause--my mother's death. Then I began to think of how hot it was, and that as near as I could guess it must be two hours after noon. Then about how pleasant it would be to begin rebuilding our house, and how long it would take, and about Hannibal and Pomp, and what a gentleman the former seemed to be by nature in his stern, quiet way; always willing to do anything for us, and watching me whenever he saw me, to know if there was anything I wanted; and so big, and strong, and brave. Then I thought of our terrible experience under the great cypress tree, and at one time it was very horrible, but directly after not at all so. "It seems very terrible to kill any one, but Han knew that if he did not kill them they would kill us, and I do believe he would sooner be killed himself than let any one hurt either father or me. And what a rum little fellow Pomp is," I thought; "and how he gives up directly Hannibal says anything in his language. "I wonder what his language is! One can't call it black language, because it isn't black--only what black people speak. I wonder whether I could learn it. Seems to be all _ing_, and _ung_, and _ang_, and _ng_, without any letters before it. I'll make Hannibal teach me to speak like he does. He would if I asked him. S'pose I should have to learn it without books, and one couldn't write it, and--Oh, dear me! How hot, and tired, and thirsty I am! "I wish Pomp wouldn't buzz so. "No, I mean I wish the flies wouldn't snore so. "No; I mean the Indians--the--" I started up, and looked round confusedly, to see the flies darting here and there, and buzzing more loudly than ever, while Pomp had settled into a decided snore. It was hotter than before, and great drops stood on my face, and tickled as they ran together and made greater drops. The children too were still playing about, and laughing merrily, and I went on thinking that the flies must be teasing Pomp very much, and that those children would laugh and play if the Indians came and buzzed round the tent; and that one which had settled on the canvas just over my head didn't frighten them by swelling out so big, and opening and shutting his great jaws with such a loud snap. What a number of fish he must eat in a day, and how I should have liked to watch him when he beat the water with his tail, so as to stun the fish and make them easy to catch! "And so that's where you live, is it, my fine fellow? Pomp and I will come with a stick, and thrust it down the hole, and make you bite, and drag you out. We should want a rope ready to put round your neck, and another to tie your jaws, and one of us would have to slip it on pretty quickly before you spread your wings and began to fly round the tent, and began talking in that ridiculous way. Whoever heard of an alligator imitating Morgan, and trying to deceive me like that, just as we were going to catch him on the canvas where it was so tight? Eh! What say? Why don't you bellow? What!--no, I shan't. He is very comfortable here, and--Ah!" That alligator had crept over into the tent, planted its foot upon my chest, and was moving it heavily, as it said out of the darkness in Morgan's voice-- "Oh, Master George, do wake up, my lad, and come! Be quick, pray!" _ |
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