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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 13 |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTEEN. I kept about near the rough shelter rigged up for the two blacks, wondering how my father would set about giving them their freedom, for I seemed fully to understand that this was what he intended to do. Every now and then I glanced toward the place, where everything was wonderfully still, and at such times I found myself thinking about Morgan's words; and it appeared only natural that the poor fellows should try to escape, being quite in ignorance of the hands into which they had fallen; but if they did, I was fully determined to put a stop to their taking our boat, for I did not mean to lose that, and have my fishing expeditions spoiled. After a time my task began to grow tedious, and I wanted to go and peep in to see if they were asleep; but somehow I shrank from doing this, and I began to wander about, now up to the house, and now back to the river, thinking, as I stood there gazing down into the clear water, that it would not be safe for the two blacks to lie there after dark, when the great alligators came crawling out of the pools in search of food. For there were plenty of accounts current among the settlers of how people had been attacked by the great reptiles, and I meant to suggest to my father that the two should be sheltered in the great shed, which had a strong door. I glanced toward the canvas which hung from the spar, and suddenly awoke to the fact that there was something black at one end; seeing directly after that a bright eye was watching me, but only to be carefully withdrawn as soon as its owner realised that he was seen. I smiled to myself at this, and went off into the garden, where I could hear Morgan's great hoe with its regular chop-chop, as he battled away with the weeds which refused to acknowledge the difference between wild waste and cultivated ground. "Hullo!" cried Morgan, as soon as he saw me. "What, have they slipped off?" "Slipped off? No," I said, indignantly. "I want a peach." "Right, my lad," said Morgan; "and, look you, get one off the further tree; they're not the best to look at, but they're the sweetest and the best to taste, I can tell you." Peaches grew easily and plentifully in the hot sunshine of our garden, and securing a sample of the best, I went back toward the landing-place, where I saw the boy's head pop back out of sight as soon as I appeared. Then laying down the fruit just within reach of the corner from which I had seen the boy watching me, I was in the act of turning away, when I saw that I was being watched from the other side. "Hullo, Morgan!" I said. "You there?" "Yes, Master George, I'm here, and it's time I was," he cried, sourly. "Do you think your father and me grafted them peach trees, and coaxed 'em on into bearing, for you to feed niggers with them?" "I've a right to do what I like with the fruit, if I don't eat it," I said, angrily. "Oh, very well; I've done. Seems to me that if master's to be always bullying me on one side, and you on the other, the sooner I make up my bundle and go home to Carnarvon, the better." "That's what you always say, Morgan," I replied, laughing; "but you never do go." "Ah, but you'll see some day; and then you'll be sorry," he grumbled, and away he went. "I don't want to hurt his feelings," I thought; "but he needn't be so disagreeable about the poor black fellows." After a time I went to the shelter and looked in, to see that the man was lying with his eyes opened; and, recalling what my father had said, I gave him some bread and wine, which he ate as it was put to his lips, in a dull, forbidding way which took all the pleasure out of what I had thought was an act of kindness. The peaches had disappeared, and I was saying to myself, "You might have given him one!" when I found that both of them were lying close to the black's head untouched. About sunset my father came and looked at his purchase in a very grave way, and then apparently satisfied he drew back. "The man is recovering," he said. "We saved his life, my boy, but they must not stay there to-night. I hardly believe that an alligator would attack them; but one great fellow has been travelling through the garden in the night, and if he came near them, there would be a terrible scare if nothing worse." "Where are they to go then, father?" "In the large shed. There are plenty of bundles of corn straw, and they must make shift with that until we can build them a hut." "Build them a hut?" I said, in wondering tones. "Are they going to stop?" "Stop? Where else can they go, my lad?" "I did not think of that, father," I said. "No, poor fellows, when they have been sold into slavery, there is no going back. Even if we could put them ashore in Africa, it would only be for them to be slain or sold again." "Then--" I stopped short, afraid to finish my speech. "Well, what were you going to say?" "I was going to ask you if--if--" "I was going to keep slaves like my neighbours, eh?" "Yes, father," I said, bluntly. "Yes, my boy. It is forced upon me to do so; but it will be an easy slavery, George. We have thrown their chains away, and they are free to go wherever they like. Now call Morgan, and let's have them up here." I called our man, and the sail was dragged aside, for the boy to crouch menacingly by the man, who lay gazing at us in a dull, heavy way. "How are we to make them understand?" said my father, who advanced, bent down, and took hold of the negro's wrist and felt his pulse. The boy bared his teeth, but the man said a word or two in his own language, and the boy drew back. "Stronger, decidedly," said my father; and he stood watching his patient, while I fetched some more bread and soaked it in wine. He ate it slowly and mechanically, like some beast of burden, and when it was finished my father signed to him to get up, saying the words at the same time. He evidently understood, and tried to raise himself, nearly reaching to a sitting position, but falling back from sheer weakness, and gazing shrinkingly at us as if expecting a blow. But as no blow came he spoke to the boy, who at once took his hands and pulled him into a sitting position, but the man could do no more, and uttered a low groan in his abject weakness as he gazed up in his eyes. My father thought for a moment and then turned to Morgan. "Get the sail," he said; and the triangular piece of canvas was spread beside the man on the ground. "Now," said my father, "creep on to that, and we'll carry you." The man looked up at him with his brow puckered over with lines, but he did not comprehend. "Show him what I mean," said my father; and I lay down on the canvas, and then rose up, and my father pointed. The negro understood him, spoke to the boy, and with his help and Morgan's half rolled, half dragged himself on to the sail. "Now," said my father; "he's big and heavy; Morgan and I will take the top, you take the bottom, George. If you could get that boy to understand, it would be easy." I took hold of the bottom of the sail and made signs to the boy, but he could not or would not understand, till the black uttered a guttural word or two, when he came shrinkingly to my side, and took hold, watching me the while as if to be aware of danger. "Now then," said my father, "I don't suppose you two can lift; but if you ease the load up a little from the ground, that will be all that is necessary. Now together, Morgan." They turned their backs on us as they took a good hold of the sail, and began to drag our load toward the great barn-like shed at the end of the house, reaching it without much difficulty, and drawing the sail right over a quantity of dry corn-stalks. Here, after giving them some food to eat if they desired it, we left them and closed the door. "There, Morgan," said my father, with a smile, as we crossed the garden, "I am a slave-owner now like my neighbours, and as soon as that man is well and strong, you will have no excuse for grumbling about the want of help." _ |
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