Hunting the Skipper Part 70

"Don't talk so much, sir. Give way, my lads. Get back into the lagoon, and we'll try another of these wretched cuts."

Another was soon found and duly marked by breaking down a few of the bamboos level with the water, and plaiting them this time in an unmistakable way, the result at the end of close upon an hour proving to be just the same.

"Never mind," said the middy, speaking through his set teeth. "It's horribly disappointing, Tom, but these blind water alleys haven't been made for nothing. They prove to me that there must be a special one which we have to hit, and when we do we shall find that it leads to some hiding-place--perhaps to where the planter has gone, and we must trace him."

"I don't see what good it will do, sir, if we do," said the big sailor, puckering up his brows.

"We must find him, Tom, and take him aboard as a regular prisoner this time, for he has been deceiving the captain, and all that he has said can't be true. Give way, my lads."

After further search which led to their pa.s.sing another opening twice over, a spot was found where the growth seemed to be very thick; but it proved to be yielding enough at last, for the boat's prow glided through with a rush, and they pa.s.sed into another tiny lagoon, where as the large reeds closed in behind them, Tom May slapped his knee loudly.

"I do call it artful, sir," he cried. "Why, who's going to show me which is the way out again? I've got my eye fixed on it, but if I shut it up I shouldn't be able to find it again. It's just this," he continued. "You holds the bamboos down or on one side, and as soon as you're gone by up they springs again; and that's why they're called bamboos, I s'pose--because they bamboozle you. Now for another way of marking this here one."

"Yes, let's have no more mistakes, Tom."

"No, sir," said the man, tightening up his lips as he pulled out his jack knife, before picking out of the biggest giant reeds, one of a tuft which towered up some five-and-twenty feet. Through this he drove his blade, the thick, rich, succulent gra.s.s yielding easily, and after keeping the wound open by the help of a messmate's knife he cut a slip, and thrusting it through the reed, he drew out the two knives so that the wound closed up tightly upon the green wedge.

"You are taking a great deal of trouble, Tom," said Murray impatiently.

"It's wuth it, sir--trust me if it arn't," said the man. "Saves time in the end; and I'm beginning to think as we're in the right cut at last."

"Give way, then, my men, and let's prove it," cried the middy impatiently, for the time was pa.s.sing swiftly, and the horrible feeling grew upon him that before long some one would appear from the _Seafowl_ to demand where the prisoner was.

The men thrust the boat swiftly across the pondlike place, for on the other side the reeds seemed to have been lately disturbed; but here there was another disappointment, for though the bamboos which rose up had certainly been broken away recently, they grew together so densely that all efforts to pa.s.s through were vain, and Tom May declared at last that it was only another blind meant to deceive.

"Let's try t'other side, sir," he said, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up his face.

"No, no; that looks so easy," said Murray.

"That's some one's artfulness, sir. Let's try; it won't take long."

Murray was ready enough to try any advice now so long as it seemed good, and the word being given, the two boat-keepers placed their oars in the rowlocks and rowed straight at the indicated place, with the result that they had to uns.h.i.+p their oars, for the boat glided right through the light reeds, which gave way readily here, and almost directly after the rowing was resumed again, and they found themselves in comparatively open water for a couple of hundred yards.

"This won't want no marking, sir," whispered Tom.

"Mark it all the same, my lad, when we pa.s.s out."

"I will, sir, but we've hit the right way at last. Look how it rounds to starboard at the end, sir. I believe we're going into big water directly.--There you are, sir," added the man in a whisper, as, after rowing swiftly onward for nearly a quarter of a mile, the boat glided round a bend, where, to the mids.h.i.+pman's great delight, they came in sight of what was pretty evidently the long narrow barge in which the planter had paid his visit to the _Seafowl_.

The well-made, nattily painted craft was lying well away from the reeds which shut in the open water, moored by a rope whose grapnel was sunk not far distant, and Murray held up his hand to impress the need for silence.

"See the crew ash.o.r.e anywhere, sir?" asked Tom May.

"No; I believe they're all on board asleep. Run her up quietly."

The men obeyed, and so cautiously that the next minute the cutter was close alongside, and there lay the black crew, sleeping profoundly in the hot suns.h.i.+ne, eyes tightly closed, mouths widely open, and quite a crowd of busy flies flitting and buzzing overhead, settling upon the sleepers in a way that would have proved maddening to ordinary people, but which seemed to have not the slightest effect upon the negroes.

"Hook on, Tom," whispered Murray excitedly. "Take care they don't slip away."

The big sailor picked up the boat-hook, and was in the act of reaching out to take hold of the boat's bow, when one of the sleepers closed his mouth, slowly opened it again in a wide yawn, and at the same time unclosed his eyes, saw the big sailor reaching towards him, and then, showing the whites of his eyes in a stare of horror and dismay, he uttered a yell which awoke the rest of the crew, who sprang up as one man, to follow their companion's example, for the first awakened as he uttered his yell bounded out of the boat and disappeared.

"No, you don't, my black friend," cried Tom, making a thrust with the boat-hook, and getting hold of the startled man by his waist-cloth, he brought him up again, kicking, splas.h.i.+ng and plunging to the surface, and drew him hand over hand along the pole of the boat-hook till he had him alongside the now rocking cutter, when a tremendous lurch freed him.

He would have got away but for the help rendered by the boat-keepers, one of whom took hold of a leg, the other of a wrist, when he was hauled in over the side, praying for mercy in very fair English, for the fact that the big sailor planted a bare foot upon his chest and pressed him down into the bottom of the cutter quite convinced him that his time had come.

"Hold your row, you black pig!" growled Tom. "Think it's killing time and you're going to be scalded and sc.r.a.ped?"

"Oh, ma.s.sa! Oh, ma.s.sa! Poor black n.i.g.g.ah, sah!" wailed the s.h.i.+vering captive.

"Be quiet, or--"

Tom May turned the boat-hook pole downwards as if he were going to plunge it at the poor fellow, and his shouting came to an end.

"No use to go ash.o.r.e after the rest, sir, eh?" said Tom enquiringly.

"Not the slightest," replied Murray, as the last of the crew reached the fringing bamboos and plunged in, to disappear. "But don't let that one go."

"No, sir; he's right enough. Better let him know that we're not going to kill him, though."

"Be quiet, sir!" cried Murray, stepping alongside to where May had his foot upon the s.h.i.+vering slave's chest. "No one is going to hurt you."

"Oh, ma.s.sa! Oh, ma.s.sa! Poor n.i.g.g.ah, sah!" sobbed the poor fellow, and he placed his hands together as if in prayer.

"Hold your tongue! Be quiet!" cried Murray. "Now then, speak out.

Where's your master?"

"Oh, ma.s.sa! You ma.s.sa now!" sobbed the poor wretch, s.h.i.+vering violently.

"Be quiet, sir!" cried Murray. "Don't be afraid to speak. Now then, tell me. Where is your master?" It was some minutes before the poor fellow could grasp the fact that he was not going to be killed outright, and in the meantime his companions had begun to show themselves, a face here and a face there, around the edge of the long winding lake, horribly frightened to a man, but fascinated and held to the spot by their strong desire to see what became of their companion.

"See 'em, sir?" whispered Tom May.

"Oh yes, I see them; but I want to try and get some information out of this poor s.h.i.+vering wretch."

"We might ketch the rest on 'em, sir," said the big sailor, "by using this one as a bait. Shall we try, sir?"

"No, no; this one will know all they could tell, if we can make him speak."

"Shall I try, sir?"

"No, no, Tom; you're too big and--"

"Ugly, sir?" said the man, with a grim smile, for Murray had stopped speaking.

"Too ugly to him," said the middy, laughing.

"Here, you sir," he added gently, as he bent down and tapped his prisoner upon the shoulder.

"Oh, ma.s.sa! Poor n.i.g.g.ah, sah!"