Mass' George Part 58
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"Now den, Ma.s.s' 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 cras.h.i.+ng down into a bed of reedy growth, and springing in to push it onward into the stream, where, once clear of the dense water gra.s.ses, 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, Ma.s.s' 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, Ma.s.s' 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 Ma.s.s' George do dat?" he cried.
"I didn't, you stupid little n.i.g.g.e.r," 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 Ma.s.s' George say?" he whispered.
"Pull!"
"Yes, I pull; but what Ma.s.s' 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? Ma.s.s' George say Injum in de bush shootin' at Pomp, and den he look round an' no Injum dah; Ma.s.s' George play trick to fright um, and den call poor Pomp 'tupid lil n.i.g.g.e.r."
"Will you hold your tongue and row?" I whispered fiercely.
"Pomp can't hold um tongue and pull de oar bofe togedder."
"Hus.h.!.+"
_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 st.u.r.dily 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, Ma.s.s'
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 h.o.r.n.y coat of the largest alligator, which, like the rest, was sleeping in the hot suns.h.i.+ne 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, Ma.s.s' 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.
Mass' George Part 58
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Mass' George Part 58 summary
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