Mass' George Part 73

I could see a very pale streak right away down and over the big river in what I knew to be the east, but I was still too drowsy to feel much interest in our excursion, and consequently replied rather gruffly to Hannibal's good-natured--

"Morn', Ma.s.s' George."

Just then the boat's keel grated on the pebbles, Hannibal jumped out, took the guns which Pomp parted with unwillingly, and pa.s.sed them to Morgan, who stowed them in the stern. Then mine was pa.s.sed in, and Hannibal bent down.

"Jump on, Ma.s.s' George, no get foot wet."

I leaped on his great broad back, thinking that he was getting his feet wet, but that it did not matter as they were bare; then wash, wash went the water on both sides as the great black and his boy waded out. I was dropped into the boat, the two blacks ran it out a little and stepped in, Morgan came aft to me, and the others backed water a while, and after turning, rowed out a little but kept pretty close, so as to be out of the swift current running down toward the sea.

"Talk about early," said Morgan, pointing to the increasing pallor of the sky; "why, it will soon be broad daylight, and I want to get to the mouth of the stream by that time."

They rowed on, and the freshness of the air, the motion of the boat, and the thorough feeling of change soon made me forget my discomfort, and as the pale dawn spread and showed the thick mist hanging over the low growth at the edge of the river, the memory of the last time I came by there started to my mind, and I looked eagerly at the near sh.o.r.e, thinking of hidden Indians ready to send flying their keenly-pointed arrows.

Morgan saw the direction of my glance, and said with a laugh--

"No; not this time."

"What?" I said sharply.

"Indians. That was a nice row we had that day, though, Master George."

"Ma.s.s' George going have fishum-line?" said Pomp, suddenly, as the dark line of forest began to look green, and higher up there was a tiny point of orange mist.

"No," I said; "we'll get right on home."

Pomp seemed so disappointed that I added, "Perhaps we will fish later on."

Vague as the promise was it sufficed to raise Pomp's spirits, and he tugged well at his oar, while I watched the splas.h.i.+ng of fish in the river, heard the low, floundering noise made by the alligators, and listened to the fresh, clear song of the birds which were welcoming the coming of another day.

Then slowly the sun rose to glorify the dripping reeds and canes, and fringe them as if with precious stones; the different kinds of ducks and cranes disturbed by our boat fled at our approach with much flapping of wings and many a discordant cry. And before I could fully realise it, and think of anything else, it was bright, beautiful morning; all glorious, free, fresh, and delicious, with the moss draping the sunlit trees, the water sparkling, and the sensation growing upon me that I had just escaped from prison, and was going home.

"Not sorry you got up so soon, are you, sir?" said Morgan, smiling, as he saw how eager and excited I had grown.

"Sorry? No," I cried. "Here, you two, are you tired? Morgan and I will row."

"No, no," said Hannibal, showing his white teeth. "We row Ma.s.s' George boat all away."

"Look, Ma.s.s' George," cried Pomp, as there was a scuffle, a splash, and a good-sized alligator startled by our coming hurried into the river.

"You like shoot um?"

"No, no. Let's get right away home first."

"All the same, sir, we'll load the guns," said Morgan. "I don't think we shall want to use 'em, but there's a few marks about this boat to show that sometimes it is necessary."

He pointed laughingly to the holes left where the arrows stuck in the sides and thwarts.

"I broke out an arrow-head this morning," he said; and he picked it up from where it lay.

Pomp watched us eagerly as we charged all three pieces, and laid them down in the stern, after which I sat thoroughly enjoying the scene, which was all as fresh to me as if I had never been there before. But at the same time, as we went on, I recognised the different spots where the Indians had made their stand to hara.s.s us during our memorable escape down the river, notably at the wooded point we pa.s.sed round just before reaching the mouth of our stream, and leaving the main river behind.

Then, as the s.p.a.ce contracted and the banks seemed to draw gradually closer together, we soon began to get into more familiar parts, and at last the higher trees and points and bends were all memorable, known as they were to Pomp and myself in connection with fis.h.i.+ng excursions or hunts for squirrel or nest.

The stream here ran swiftly, and swirled round some of the bends, at times well open, at others so close did the forest come that we seemed to be going along between two huge walls of verdure; and I don't know whether they would have noticed it, but just before we turned into our lesser river, something induced me to begin talking rather rapidly to both Pomp and Hannibal, for we were pa.s.sing the place where the slaver had lain, and as we came by, it seemed to me that the poor fellows must begin thinking of the horrors of that day when we brought them up in that very boat, one dying, the other as wild as any savage creature of the forest.

"Here we are at last," I cried, as we came close up to the cut-down trees on the bank which served as posts to our landing-place.

"Yes. Take your piece, Master George," said Morgan, "and don't shout aloud. Let's have a good look round first."

It was good advice, and we made our rowers take the boat up a couple of hundred yards past the landing-place, and then let her drift back. But all was still. There were two or three busy squirrels, and some birds, but no sign of lurking enemy.

"It's quite safe, I think," I said.

"Yes, sir, safe enough. No Indian here, or we should have had an arrow at us before now."

"We may fasten the boat there, and leave it?" I said.

Morgan hesitated.

"Well, yes," he said; "we had better keep all together. It would not be fair to leave those two alone to mind her in case the Indians did come."

"If they do," I said, "we must retreat overland if we can't get to the boat."

"Or they get it first," said Morgan, grimly.

So we landed at the familiar place, the boat was made fast, and with Hannibal carrying one of the guns, we started for the old home, all eager and excited except Pomp, whose brow puckered up, and I knew the reason why--he had no gun to carry.

"Here, Pomp," I said; "you keep close to me, and carry my gun."

The sun was s.h.i.+ning brilliantly over the river; now it began to s.h.i.+ne in the wood all over Pomp's smooth black skin, out of his dark eyes, and off his white teeth, as he shouldered the piece, now the very embodiment of pride.

We had not far to go, and as we went on and found everything as we had left it, and no signs of enemy, the shrinking feeling which had haunted me, and made me fancy I saw a living savage behind every great tree, pa.s.sed away, and I strode on till we reached the clearing where Morgan and I killed the rattlesnake, and there the same shrinking feeling attacked me again, for it was here that we had long back made our first acquaintance with the enemy.

My eyes met Morgan's, and he was evidently thinking the same thing as he gave me a nod.

"No rattlesnakes here to-day, sir," he said, and he smiled meaningly, "not of any sort. Shall I go first?"

"No," I said, rather unwillingly, for I felt that I ought to lead; and, taking the firelock now from Pomp, I went toward the path leading through the forest trees to our larger clearing where the house and garden stood.

"Ma.s.s' George let Pomp go firs and see if any-boddy dah," whispered the boy.

"No," I said; but Morgan turned to me quickly, as Pomp looked disappointed.

"Why not let him go on? He'll creep through the trees like a snake, and get there and back unseen if there's danger."

"n.o.body see Pomp if him hide."

"Go then," I said; and the boy darted off at once through the densest part, while we followed cautiously, for there was the possibility of some of the Indians lurking about still.

But in a few minutes Pomp was back, looking very serious, but ready to tell us at once that no one was there.