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Mass' George: A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah, a novel by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 31

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_ CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

I believe my hands trembled, but I stood up firmly in the boat and charged the heavy piece, making the ramrod leap, as I had been told, examined the priming, and then, in obedience to my father's sign, sat down.

Pomp had taken both oars, and was dipping them gently from time to time, to keep the boat's head straight, and after a long look up the reach, my father sat down too.

"Let's see, George," he said, "we are about a mile above the landing-place, and we must give Morgan plenty of time to get there, up to the house, and back. Hold up your gun, and let the Indians see it if they are watching, and I suppose they are. These bow-and-arrow people have a very wholesome dread of powder."

"But suppose they keep creeping near us under shelter, father," I said, "and shoot?"

"They will in all probability miss; let's hope so, at all events. Come, my lad, you have a gun, and you must play soldier now. Will you lie down under shelter of the boat's side?"

"Soldiers don't lie down," I said firmly, though I wanted to do so very badly indeed.

"Oh, yes, they do sometimes. We will as soon as it is necessary; but what I want to do now, my boy, is to gain time. If we row swiftly to the landing-place, the Indians will come on rushing from tree to tree, and be upon us in a few minutes, for I presume they are in force."

I told him quickly how many we had seen.

"It is a mercy that you went and were taken, George," he said; "it has saved our lives, no doubt. But as I was saying, we want to gain time, and while we sit here slowly drifting down, with these menacing guns pointing in their direction, they will advance very slowly, and keep under cover. If it becomes necessary, I shall have the boat turned, and advance to meet them."

"And then, father?"

"They will retire for a time, not being able to understand so bold an advance, and think that an attack is about to be made upon them from the other side. We must keep them back, and it is to be done by preserving a bold front. They are cruel and treacherous, and can fight well when they think they are in strength over a weak adversary; but from what I learned of those who have had to do with them, they are as cowardly as they are cruel. Look!"

I gazed sharply up the wooded bank of the river, but I could see nothing, and said so.

"No; they were gone directly. They were two spies who had stolen closer up. It means war in earnest now, I am afraid."

He changed his position a little, and examined his gun.

"Mass' goin' shoot dat gun?" said Pomp, excitedly, after watching and listening with all his energy.

"Yes, my lad," said my father, smiling.

"Mass' won't shoot Pomp?"

"No. Attend to the oars, and keep the boat's head straight. Don't speak."

"No, massa. Oh, look, dat dah!"

Pomp's loud exclamation was due to the fact that an arrow came flying from a low clump of bushes nearly two hundred yards away, its reed shaft glistening in the ruddy light, and its wings looking as if of fire, till it dropped without a splash into the river, far away from where we sat.

"Now I should like to return their fire," said my father, "but I am very doubtful about my gun doing any harm at this distance, so we must wait. Pull a little, boy, but very gently, so that they will hardly be able to see that we are doing anything to get away."

Pomp dipped the oars, and I sat with my heart beating, waiting to see another arrow come, but for quite a minute there was no sign.

"Good practice for one beginning a frontier life, George," said my father. "Sweep the bank well, and note the smallest movement of a bough. You see there is no wind to move them now."

"I am watching, father," I said, "but I cannot see anything."

"Pomp see lil bit o' one," came from behind us.

"Where, boy?"

"Dah by dat big tree. See um arm. Going to shoot."

Almost as the words left the boy's lips, an arrow came spinning through the air, describing a good arc, and falling in a direct line with the boat, some twenty yards short.

"That's better," said my father, coolly resting his gun on the stern, and half lying down in the boat. "Hah! I could see that."

I had also seen what appeared to be a quick movement of the bushes a short distance from the edge of the bank, a movement which seemed such as would have been made by an animal dashing through.

The waving of the foliage stopped just by a great swamp oak, and upon this tree I fancied that my father fixed his eye.

"Dah again," said Pomp, excitedly. "Going shoot um bow an' arrow."

_Bang_!

The boat rocked a little with the concussion, and as the smoke lifted, I saw an arrow drop into the river a long way to our left.

"I don't think I hit him," said my father; "but I disarranged his aim, and it will check him for a bit."

His words proved correct, for though he stood up in the boat to re-charge his piece, and offered a striking object for the Indian's arrows, none came; and as we floated on and on, it began to seem as if the one shot had been enough to scare the enemy. I said so, but my father shook his head.

"No such good fortune, my boy."

"What are you going to do, father?" I said, after some minutes' watching, and thinking how strange it was that my calm, quiet father, who was so fond of his studies and his garden, should in a time of emergency like this prove himself to be a firm soldier, ready to fight or scheme against our dangerous foes.

"Escape to the settlement if we can get safely away."

"But--"

I stopped short.

"Well?" he said.

"I was thinking about the house and garden, the furniture and books, and all our treasures."

"Doomed, I'm afraid, George," he said with a sigh. "We must think about saving our lives. We can build up the house again."

"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 passing 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; "pass 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 butt 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 encumbrances 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 passed 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, massa, 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 ejaculation, 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, massa. Oh, Mass' George, lookye here--lookye dah."

The boat was drifting now, and turning slowly side on to the shore, 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.

"Pull your right, George; pull your right," said my father, coolly. "Now, Pomp, my boy, let me look. Come, be a man."

My father took his hand, and the boy jumped and uttered a cry of pain, but he evidently mastered himself, and rising to his knees, he resigned himself to my father, but doubled his other fist and shook it in the direction of the shore as he shouted fiercely--

"Ah, you wait bit, great big coward--great big ugly Injum tief. You wait bit--Pomp and um fader get hold you, gib you de 'tick. Hab you flog--hab you--Oh! Oh, Mass' Capen, done, done," he cried piteously, changing his tone and appealing to my father, as he saw him take out and open his great gardening knife, which was as sharp as a razor.

"Be quiet," said my father; "I will not hurt you much."

"No, no," whimpered Pomp. "Mass' George, ask massa not cut arm off. Cut off lil toe, Massa Capen; cut off um foot. What poor lil nigger do wif ony one arm?"

"Be quiet, you cowardly little rascal," said my father, smiling, as with one sharp cut he took off the head of the arrow, and then easily drew the shaft back from where it had passed right through Pomp's black hand.

As soon as he saw the arrow-head cut off, and understood what my father meant, Pomp knelt there as coolly as could be.

"Hurt much?" said my father, pressing his finger and thumb on the wound at the back and palm of the boy's hand.

"Um tickle, sah: dat all. Pomp tought you cut um arm off. Hi! You dah," he shouted excitedly; "you wait till Pomp get lil bit of rag round um hand, you see how I serb you. Yah! You big coward Injum tief."

My father rapidly drew his handkerchief from his pocket, tore a piece off, divided it in two, and making the two pieces into little pads, applied one each to the back and front of the boy's hand before binding them securely there.

As soon as this was done, Pomp looked up at him with his eyes sparkling and showing his teeth.

"Pomp not mind a bit," he said. "Here, Mass' George, come here an' shoot um. Let Pomp hab de oars."

"No," said my father. "Sit down there in the bottom of the boat. Hah!"

He seized his gun and fired; then caught up mine, waited till the smoke had risen a little, and fired again, a shot coming almost at the same moment from the other boat.

It was quite time, for the Indians, encouraged by the cessation of the firing, and seeing that some one was wounded, were coming on well abreast of us. But the first shot warned them, and the two which followed sent them once more back under cover, leaving one of their number, to Pomp's great delight, motionless among the canes.

"Ha, ha!" he laughed; "you cotch it dis time, sah. How you like feel de shot, eh? You no 'tick arrow froo poor lil nigger hand again, you no-- Oh, Mass' George, look dah!"

For the prostrate man suddenly rolled over, half rose, darted amongst the canes, and we could see by his movements that he was rapidly getting ahead. Then another and another darted to him, and to our misery we saw that they were making for a wooded point a couple of hundred yards ahead.

"Mean to take us between two fires," said my father, who was coolly reloading, in spite of the arrows which kept on dropping down in and about the boat as the Indians sent them right up in the air.

"Morgan!" shouted my father.

"Yes, sir."

"Turn your fire in the other direction, and drive those fellows out of that clump of trees on the point."

"Yes, sir."

The next minute there was a sharp report, and then another.

"That's right, boy," said my father to Pomp, who was eagerly watching him reloading, and handing the ammunition. "Why, George--Ah, that arrow was near; did it hurt you?"

"Only scratched me, father," I said, as I winced a little, for one of the Indians' missiles had fallen, ploughed my leg a little, and pinned the fold of my breeches to the thwart on which I sat.

Pomp crept to my side and pulled out the arrow, examining the hole in the thwart, and saying merrily--

"I no 'tink you want lil bit rag round you, sah."

"No, Pomp; go back and help to load."

_Bang_--_bang_! Was heard again from the foremost boat; but arrows came now fast from the wooded point we were approaching.

"How does Morgan manage to load so quickly?" said my father, who kept on talking calmly, as I believe now to encourage us.

"I think Morgan is--I mean I think Sarah is loading for him," I replied, rather confusedly, as the trees and the wooded bank began to grow misty and dim.

"Ah, very likely. Great--"

The one word came in a very different tone of voice, as a wild shriek rang out from the foremost boat, followed by a momentary silence.

"What is it?" said my father, sternly.

His demand was almost accompanied by a couple more shots in close succession.

"One down, sir," said Morgan, coolly; but his voice sounded to me distant and strange.

"Pull hard, George, my lad--your right. We must give that point as wide a berth as we can."

I obeyed as well as I could, and half wondered at the singing noise in my ears.

_Bang_! Came from the foremost boat, and I seemed to know that Morgan had no one to load for him now, and that poor Sarah had uttered that shriek we had heard. Then I saw that my father was resting his gun on the foremost part of the boat, and he too fired at the woody point, from which arrow after arrow came in quick succession.

And still I rowed hard, with the perspiration streaming down to soak me.

_Whizz_--_thud_--_whizz_--_whizz_, and an angry ejaculation from my father; I did not know why, nor yet why Pomp uttered a shrill ejaculation, for I was pulling with all my might like one in a dream. I felt once as if I should like to look back and see how near we were to the point that I knew must be close at hand; but everything was getting dark, and a horrible sensation of sickness was coming on. Then the sharp report of my father's piece made me start and pull harder, as I thought, and I tried to look toward the shore, where a wild yelling had arisen; but Pomp's words uttered close to me took my attention, and in a dreamy way I supposed that another Indian had been killed.

Then the boy spoke again in a low whimpering way--

"Massa--massa--look at de blood. Oh, Mass' George! Mass' George!" _

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