Mass' George Part 61

"Build it up again, father?"

"Yes, if it is burnt, and replace our books; but we cannot restore life, my boy. Besides, all these things that we shall lose are not worth grieving over. There, I think we have waited long enough now to give them time, and we are near the landing-place. Pull steadily now, boy, right for the posts."

Pomp obeyed, and the boat glided on, swept round a wooded point, and the landing-place with its overhanging trees was in sight.

"Are they there?" said my father, sharply.

"I can't see them, father."

A sharp stamp with his foot on the thwart of the boat told of the excitement he felt, and made me realise more than ever the peril we were in.

"Pull, boy--pull!" he said.

I sat down in front of Pomp, laid my gun across the thwarts, and placing my hands on the oars, helped with a good thrust at every tug, sending the boat well along, so that in a couple of minutes more we were at the landing-place, where I leaped out, and secured the boat by pa.s.sing the rope through a ring-bolt.

"Don't fasten it tightly," said my father; "leave it so that you can slip it at a moment's notice. No, no, boy, sit still ready to row."

Pomp, who was about to spring out, plumped down again, his brow wrinkled up, and his twinkling dark eyes watching my father, of whom he stood in terrible awe.

"They ought to have been here; they ought to have been here," said my father, unfastening the other boat, and making a loop of the rope that could be just hung over one of the posts, besides bringing the boat close in.

"I cannot go, George," he said sharply. "This is our only means of escape, and it would be like throwing it away: they ought to have been here."

"Pomp hear um come," cried the boy eagerly; and we both listened, but for a few moments I could make out nothing.

Then as my father was eagerly scanning the edge of the river, gun in hand, on the look-out for the first approach of the Indians, I heard _plod_--_plod_--_plod_--_plod_, and directly after Morgan came into sight laden with the guns and ammunition, followed by Hannibal with a box on his shoulder; and lastly there was Sarah, red-faced and panting, as she bore a large white bundle that looked like a feather-bed tied up in a sheet.

"What madness!" cried my father, angrily stamping his foot. "Quick, Morgan! Quick!"

Morgan broke into a trot, and soon reached us, rapidly placed his load in the boat, and took up one of the pieces.

"How could you waste time by letting that woman come loaded in this ridiculous way?"

"She would bring them, sir; she wouldn't come without."

"No," said Sarah, who came up completely breathless, "I wasn't going to."

"Into the boat," cried my father, "if you value your life!"

Hannibal was already in with his box, and my father tried to drag the bundle from Sarah, but she held on with such tenacity that she was forced in bundle and all.

Hannibal placed the huge white sphere in the stern, where it rose up high and projected far over the sides. Then, in obedience to my father's orders, he seized the oars and sat down.

"Quick, Morgan!" said my father; "be ready to fire steadily as you can if I give the order. Stop!" he cried quickly, as a sudden thought struck him; "pa.s.s that box into this boat. There, across the stern, as you have placed that bundle."

The boats were drawn together, and the transfer was made, while my hands grew wet with perspiration as I scanned the edge of the forest, fancying I could hear the breaking and rustling of twigs and leaves.

"Here dey come," said Pomp, huskily, just as my father exclaimed, "Cast off!" and the boats were thrust out into the stream.

It was only just in time, for as our boat was being thrust away with the oar there was a fierce yell, and a score of savages rushed out of the edge of the forest, ran rapidly over the bushy ground between, and the two first sprang into the shallow water, one of them seizing an oar, the other coming further out, and catching at the boat's side with one hand, striking at my father with an axe at the same time.

I felt as if the blow had struck me, so keen was the agony I endured; but relief came on the instant, for the axe edge was warded off by the barrel of the piece my father held, and before the savage could strike again he received the b.u.t.t of the piece full in his forehead, and dropped back into the water.

Meanwhile the other savage was trying to tear the oar from Pomp's grasp, and he would have succeeded had not the boy drawn the knife he had stuck in his waist, and given the Indian quickly a sharp cut across the hands, making him yell and loosen his hold.

The others were so near that we must have been captured had it not been for the sharp stream which had caught the boat, and was bearing us away.

In the second boat another struggle had taken place, three of the Indians, as I saw at my second glance, making for it; but they fared no better than their companions. Hannibal had already pushed off, and was standing up with one oar in his hand. This he swept round as if it were a huge two-handed sword, and one Indian went down at once; the second caught and clung to the oar, and he too struck at Hannibal with his axe; but the great black caught the handle, gave it a wrench round, tore it from the man's grasp, and I closed my eyes for a moment as I saw what was about to follow. When I opened them again the Indian was floating in the river, and a companion was drawing him to land, while another was helping the Indian who had attacked Morgan, and was struck down by a blow with the gun-barrel.

The boats were now moving fast, and as I saw the Indians all there bending their bows, my father shouted "Fire!" Our three pieces went off nearly simultaneously with a tremendous roar, and when the smoke rose I saw three men on the ground by our landing-place, and the others in full flight for the forest. I stared at these three in horror, when, to my surprise, they leaped up and ran after their companions. But three others lay where their comrades had dragged them half drowned, and stunned by the blows they had received. Those who got up and ran were no doubt knocked down by their companions in their flight and dismay, for I do not think our fire did them any harm. But I was brought to myself by a sharp command to reload.

"Quick! Crouch down!" said my father; and as he spoke a shower of arrows whistled by, fortunately without doing hurt. "Morgan," continued my father, "make a breastwork of that bundle; it will protect you.

Hannibal, row straight out, so as to get that bundle between you and the enemy."

The great black's response was a pull or two with one oar, while, in obedience to my father's instructions, Pomp did the same; and I now saw the good of the box placed across the stern, behind which we two sheltered, and kept up as rapid a fire as we could, doing but little harm, for the Indians were well sheltered among the trees, and rarely showed more than a hand and arm with one side of the face, the rest of the body being always hidden behind the trunk of some great tree. But our shots did good to this extent, for whenever the enemy made a determined rush, as if to reach a spot opposite to where the boats glided down stream, a little volley invariably sent them back to cover.

Still by darting from tree to tree, or crawling under the thick bushes, they kept close in our wake, and poor Sarah's enc.u.mbrances proved invaluable, the box and huge bundle forming excellent shelter, from behind which we could fire, saving the woman too as she lay right in the bottom of the boat; for the arrows came fast--_whizz, whizz, whizz_, now sticking in the box with a hollow sounding rap, or into the big bundle in the other boat with a dull, thudding sound, till both box and bundle actually bristled with the missiles.

"Keep your head down, my boy," my father kept saying to me. "Only look up when you are going to fire."

This was good advice, but I did not see that he took it to himself, and I kept feeling a curious shrinking sensation as some better-aimed arrow than usual struck the box close to his head.

And so we went slowly on, my father dividing his time between loading, firing, and directing Pomp and Hannibal how to row, so as to keep the boats one behind the other, and diagonally across the stream, so that our sheltering defences might be presented square to the enemy, who followed us along the bank.

I'm afraid--and yet I do not know that I ought to speak like that of a set of savages who were thirsting for our blood--several of the Indians went down severely wounded, not from my firing, but from that of Morgan, for I saw them stagger and fall three times over after his shots. What happened after my father's I could not see, for we were close together, and the smoke obscured everything.

For fully ten minutes this duel between lead and arrow went on, but no one on our side was hurt, though we had some very narrow escapes. I felt one arrow give quite a twitch at my hair as it pa.s.sed close to my temple, and another went through my father's hat. In the other boat too Morgan kept answering to our inquiries, and telling us that all was right, only that some of the arrows had come, as he termed it, "precious nigh, look you."

"We shall not shake them off," said my father, "till we reach the mouth and get into the big river, when I hope our firing will be heard and put them on their guard at the settlement. So don't spare your shots when we get well out. They will be doing double duty--scaring the enemy and warning our friends. That's right, Pompey, my lad, pull steadily."

"Iss, ma.s.sa, pull berry 'tead'ly," said the boy, grinning.

"As soon as we get a little farther we will relieve you, my lad; and then, George," he said, turning to me, "we must row hard for the settlement, unless," he added, sadly, "the enemy are before us, and then--Hah!"

I started at the moment when my father uttered that e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, for an arrow dropped between us, and stuck quivering in the thwart, standing nearly upright, as if it had fallen from the clouds.

"They have altered their tactics," said my father. "Look there."

Another arrow fell with a faint _plop_ into the river close to the edge of the boat. "They find our breastwork too much for them," said my father; "and they are shooting up right over us, so as to try and hit us that way."

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" came in wild yells of pain from Pomp, as I heard a dull thud just behind me; and turning sharply, there was the boy dancing about in his agony, and tugging to free his hand from an arrow which had fallen and gone right through, pinning it to one of the oars.

"Stop! Don't struggle, boy," cried my father, laying his gun across the box.

"But um hurt dreffle, ma.s.sa. Oh, Ma.s.s' George, lookye here--lookye dah."

The boat was drifting now, and turning slowly side on to the sh.o.r.e, when my father made a sign, and I left my gun lying across the box and crept into Pomp's place, while my father seized the boy's hand, held it tightly, detached the arrow with a tug from where it stuck in the oar, and then as I began to row he pulled Pomp down into the bottom of the boat, the boy sobbing with the pain.

_Whizz_! An arrow made me duck my head, and I don't know how I looked, but I felt as if I must have turned pale.