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Nic Revel; A White Slave's Adventures in Alligator Land, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 17. Chains And Slavery |
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_ CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. CHAINS AND SLAVERY Pete calmed down after a while, and began to feel a bit sulky. He had common-sense enough to begin looking at the state of affairs from a matter-of-fact point of view, and he lay conning the position over. "Just as he likes," he said. "He pitches me over, and won't have any more to do with me. Well, it aren't no wonder, zeeing what I've been. Wonder what made me turn so zoft and zilly about him! Zeeing how hard it was for him to be zarved as he was, and then hooked off along with us." "Dunno that it's any worse for him than it is for me," he muttered; "but zeemed to feel a bit sorry about him, poor lad!--there I go again: poor lad! No more poor lad than I be. Got it into my thick head that it was nice to help him while he was so bad, and that, now our lads have pitched me overboard, we was going to be mates and help one another. But we aren't, for he's pitched me overboard too." "Well," muttered Pete, with a bitter laugh, "I can zwim as well as most on 'em, and I shan't hurt much; and as for him, he must take his chance with the rest on us. He's got his wits back again, and don't zeem like to go wool-gathering again; and, if he's sharp, he'll speak up and make that t'other man understand it's all a blunder about him being sent off along o' we. But there, he wants to go his own fashion, zo he must. But if I was him I should kick up a dust before we start, and have myself zent back home by the next ship." He glanced in the gloom at where Nic was seated, and a feeling of sorrow for the poor fellow filled him again; but after the rebuff he had received he fought it off, and began to watch Humpy Dee and the others, as they sat together talking in a low tone, and then to meditate on their position towards himself. "They're half-afraid of Humpy," he thought, "and he's made 'em think that I zet the sailors at them. If I go on talking till it's a blue moon they won't believe me, zo things must go their own way, and zome day they'll find Humpy out; on'y I'm not going to let him do as he likes with me. This isn't going to be a very cheerful zort of life out here; but, such as it is, it's better than no life at all; zo I aren't going to let him pitch me into the river or down some hole, or knock me on the head, or stick a knife into me. That won't do. It's murder--leastwise it is at home; p'raps it aren't out here. Zeems not after the way that chap talked about shooting us down and zetting them dogs at us. Why, one of 'em's stronger than us, and a zet-to wi' one of 'em wouldn't be nice. Bit of a coward, I s'pose, for I can't abide being bitten by a dog." "Best thing I can do will be to slip off first chance; for I zeem, what with Humpy and these folk, to have dropped into a nasty spot. Dessay I can take care of myself, and--nay, that won't do; zeem sneaky-like to go and leave that poor lad, for I do zort o' like him. Wonderful how they dogs took to him. Nay, that aren't wonderful. Got a lot o' zense, dogs have. Allus zeem to take to zick people and little tiny children, and blind folk too. How they like them too!" At that moment there was a deep baying sound not far-away, and Pete had not long to wait before there were steps, the door was unlocked and thrown open, and the overseer entered, accompanied by the dogs, and followed by a party of blacks, one of whom carried a roughly-made basket. They were big, muscular fellows, and shiny to a degree whenever the light caught their skins, a good deal of which was visible, for their dress consisted of a pair of striped cotton drawers, descending half-way to the knee, and a sleeveless jacket of the same material, worn open so that neck and breast were bare. The dogs barked at the prisoners, and repeated their examination by scent, ending by going well over Nic, who made no attempt to caress them, nor displayed any sign of fear, but sat in his place stolidly watching the proceedings, the dogs ending their nasal inspection by crouching down and watching him. The overseer was alone now, and his first proceeding was to take his stand by the black, who had set down the heavy basket, and call Humpy Dee to come forward, by the name of Number One. The man rose heavily, and this seemed to be a signal for the three hounds to spring to their feet again, making the man hesitate. "Them dogs bite, master?" he said. "Yes; they'll be at your throat in a moment if you make the slightest attempt to escape," said the overseer sharply. "Who's going to try to escape?" grumbled Humpy. "You are thinking of it, sir," said the overseer. "Mind this," he continued--drawing the light jacket he wore aside and tapping his belt, thus showing a brace of heavy pistols--"I am a good shot, and I could easily bring you down as you ran." "Who's going to run?" grumbled Humpy. "Man can't run with things like these on his legs." "I have seen men run pretty fast in fetters," said the overseer quietly; "but they did not run far. Come here." Humpy shuffled along two or three steps, trailing his irons behind him, and the overseer shouted at him: "Pick up the links by the middle ring, sir, and move smartly." He cracked his whip, and a thrill ran through Nic. Humpy did as he was told, and walked more quickly to where the overseer stood; but before he reached him the herculean black who stood by his basket, which looked like a coarsely-made imitation of the kind used by a carpenter for his tools, clapped a hand upon the prisoner's shoulder and stopped him short, making Humpy turn upon him savagely. "Ah!" roared the overseer, as if he were speaking to one of the dogs. Humpy was overawed, and he stood still, while the black bent down, took a ball of oakum out of the basket, cut off about a foot, passed the piece through the centre ring of the irons, and deftly tied it to the prisoner's waist-belt. Then, as Nic and Pete watched, the action going on fascinating them, the black made a sign to one of his companions, who dropped upon his knees by the basket, took out a hammer, and handed it to the first black. Then the kneeling man lifted out a small block of iron, which looked like a pyramid with the top flattened, clapped it on the floor, and the first black began to manipulate Humpy as a blacksmith would a horse he was about to shoe, dragging him to the little anvil with one hand, using the hammer-handle to poke him into position with the other. "Going to take off his irons," thought Pete, and the same idea flashed across Nic's mind. He was mistaken. Another black stepped up, as if fully aware of what was necessary, and stood behind Humpy, ready to hold him up when necessary; for the second black now seized one of the prisoner's ankles, lifted his foot on to the little anvil, and the first examined the rivet, grunted his dissatisfaction, and Humpy's foot was wrenched sidewise by one man, who held the rivet upon the anvil, while his leader struck it a few heavy blows to enlarge the head and make it perfectly safe. This done, Humpy was marched nearer the door, scowling savagely at having had to submit to this process; but he grinned his self-satisfaction as he saw his companions brought forward in turn for their irons to be examined--one to have them replaced by a fresh set, which were taken from the basket, and whose rings were tightly riveted about his ankles, the rivets of the old ones being quite loose. The men were ranged near the entrance, which, at a look from the overseer, was now guarded by the three unoccupied blacks. "Now you," said the overseer to Pete, who rose from where he sat alone and approached the anvil with a curious sensation running through him. "Why didn't they iron you?" said the overseer harshly. "Wounded and sick," replied Pete gruffly. "Ah, well, you are not wounded and sick now.--He's a big, strong fellow, Sam. Give him a heavy set." The big black showed his fine set of white teeth. A set of fetters was taken from the basket, and with Pete's foot held in position by the second black--a foot which twitched and prickled with a strong desire to kick--the first ring was quickly adjusted, a soft iron rivet passed through the two holes, and then the head was rested upon the little block of iron, and a few cleverly-delivered blows from the big black's hammer spread the soft iron out into a second head, and the open ring was drawn tight. The second ankle-ring was quickly served in the same way, and the centre link was lifted and tied to the prisoner's waist-belt, Pete turning scarlet, and wiping the perspiration from his dripping brow from time to time. "Over yonder with the others!" There was a movement among the men at the door as this order was given, and Pete winced; but even a man newly fettered can still feel pride, and the poor fellow determined that his old comrades should not think he was afraid of them. He walked boldly up to take his place, meeting Humpy's malignant look of triumph without shrinking, and turning quickly directly after with a feeling of pity as he heard the overseer summon Nic to take his place in turn. "Now's your time, my lad," Pete said to himself. "Speak out like a man, and if you ask me to, I'll back you up--I will." He looked on excitedly, wondering whether Nic's wits were still with him, as but so short a time ago they had only returned to him like a flash and then passed away, leaving him, as it were, in the dark. It was very still in the hot, close place, and every word spoken sounded strangely loud in the calm of the late afternoon. "Lighter irons," said the overseer to the big black; and there was the clinking sound of the great links as the man handed the fetters from the basket. "And him not shrinking," thought Pete. "Give me quite a turn. He can't understand." The big black took the fetters and balanced them in his hand, looking at his superior as much as to say, "Will these do?" The overseer took a step or two forward and grasped the chain, to stand holding it, gazing frowningly the while at Nic, who met his gaze without blenching. "Why don't you speak--why don't you speak?" muttered Pete. "Can't you see that now's your time?" "You've been bad, haven't you?" said the overseer roughly. Nic raised his hand slowly to his head and touched the scar of a great cut on one side, the discoloration of a bruise on the other. "But quite well again now?" Nic smiled faintly. "I am weak as a child," he replied. "Humph! Yes," said the overseer, and he threw the chain upon the floor. Pete, who had been retaining his breath for some moments, uttered a faint exclamation full of relief. "But why didn't he speak out and tell him?" For a few moments his better feelings urged him to speak out himself; but he shrank from exposing both to the denials of the other men again, and stood frowning and silent. Then the chance seemed to be gone, for the overseer gave the young prisoner a thrust towards the others, and Nic walked towards them straight for where Pete was waiting. Then he raised his eyes, saw who was standing in his way, and he went off to his right, to stop beside Humpy Dee, while a feeling of resentment rose hotly in Pete's breast. "Oh, very well," he muttered to himself; "it's no business of mine." The next minute the overseer gave a sharp order; the big black raised the basket and put himself at the head of the prisoners; the other slaves took their places on either side, and the overseer followed behind with the dogs, which began to bound about, barking loudly for a minute or two, and then walked quietly as the party left the gloomy warehouse behind. _ |
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