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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 25. A Lurking Peril |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. A LURKING PERIL In obedience to the order which had despatched them, the two well-trained bloodhounds of the overseer tore on till they were about to bound upon the prisoners, when a sharp, shrill whistle arrested their rush on the instant, and they stopped, growling fiercely, their white teeth menacing, and their eyes red, as with a smouldering fire. The next moment a different note was blown from a distance, a shrill, chirruping note which made the dogs turn and bark. Then one of them set off at a steady trot, while the other, as if its duty were done, approached Nic in the most friendly way, with its tail waving from side to side. The whistle chirruped again, and the dog gave vent to a sharp bark, as much as to say, "All right, I'm coming--" and bounded after its companion. "Well, we're out of that job, Master Nic. I did wonder at that dog coming at you zo fierce." "Set at me, Pete," said Nic quietly, "and education was stronger than nature. Keep on working now, and pray let me do my hoeing myself." Pete grunted, and was silent, as he chopped away with his hoe till a horn was blown up at the house, when the tools were shouldered, and, hot and weary, the two companions trudged back to their barrack, to partake of their evening meal together, Humpy Dee and his party sitting quite aloof, for the feud was stronger than ever. From that day a change seemed to have come over Nic. It was partly due to the feeling of returning health, but as much to his growing belief in Pete's sincerity, and to the conviction that under the fellow's rough shell there was an earnest desire to serve him and help him to escape from his terrible position. The despondency to which he had given way seemed cowardly now, and as the days rolled on he worked as one works who is determined to make the best of his position. All the same, though, he joined heart and soul with Pete in the plans made for getting away. Drawn closer together as they were now, the subject was more and more discussed, and in the long talks they had in whispers of a night, they could not help dwelling on the difficulties they would have to encounter even if they did manage to escape. "But we will, Master Nic; you zee if we don't. They both talk about shooting us, and that zets me up. I don't want to hurt anybody; but when a man zays he's going to fire at me as if I was a wild beast, I don't feel to mind what I do to him. Don't you be downhearted; we shall do it yet." "But," said Nic, "it is the getting taken in a ship if we manage to find our way to the coast." "If we find our way? We've on'y to get that boat. The river will show us the way down to the zea; and as to getting away then, all we've got to do is to try and find a ship that wants men." "They will not take us, Pete; we shall be looked upon as criminals." "Not if the skipper wants men," said Pete, laughing softly. "Long as a man can work hard, and is strong, and behaves himself, he won't ask any questions." The time went on, and there seemed to be no likelihood of any captain asking questions; for in spite of keeping a sharp watch, neither Nic nor Pete could obtain the information they wanted. The boat seemed to disappear in the most mysterious way after being used by the settler or his overseer, and Nic grew more and more puzzled, and said so to his companion. "Yes, it gets over me zometimes, Master," said Pete; "but one has no chance. You see, there's always people watching you. It aren't as if it were on'y the masters and the dogs, and the niggers who are ready to do anything to please old Zaunders; there's old Humpy Dee and the others. Humpy's always on the lookout to do me a bad turn; and he hates you just as much. He's always thinking we're going to get away, and he means to stop it." "And this all means," said Nic, with a sigh, "that we must be content to stay as we are." "Don't mean nothing o' the kind," said Pete shortly. "It's a nice enough place, and there's nothing I should like better than staying here a bit, if we could go about the river and swamp and woods, fishing and shooting, and hunting or trapping; but one gets too much zun on one's back, and when it's always chopping weeds with a hoe, and the weeds grow faster than you can chop, one gets tired of it. Pretty country, Master Nic; most as good as home, only zun is a bit too warm." Nic sighed. "That's 'cause you wants to write letters and get 'em sent, Master Nic, I know; but don't you worry 'bout that. You can't send letters here like you do at home, so it aren't no use to worry about what you can't do. Worry 'bout finding the boat, dear lad; that's better than letters." "I have worried about it," said Nic, "but it is of no use till we get a chance to go and wander about to try and discover where it is kept." "And that the skipper and old Zaunders won't let us do, you zee," said Pete quietly. "They're a wicked pair, both on 'em. Might let us loose a bit on Zundays; but not they. Zunday and week-days all the zame. They've got us, and they mean to have their penn'orth out on us. Never thought as I should have all my strength turned into sugar for some one else to eat. There, work away; old Humpy's watching us, and he'll go and tell the skipper we're hatching eggs." Nic smiled, for his companion's good temper and patience were contagious, but he could not repress a sigh from time to time as he thought of home; and the beauty of the country, the waving fields of tasselled Indian-corn or beautiful sugar-cane, with the silver river beyond, the glorious slopes leading up to the distant blue mountains, and the gloomy, green, mysterious attraction of the swampy forest enhancing its attractions to an explorer, did not compensate for the absence of liberty, though Nic was fain to confess that the plantation would have been a glorious place for a few months' visit. The blacks were not friendly, as Nic soon found; but he attributed it to the stern orders they had received; but now and then one or another made a little advance, by offering, on the sly, fish or flesh in the shape of bird or 'possum which he had caught or trapped during the moonlight nights. For Saunders seemed to pay no heed to the black slaves slipping away of a night on some excursion. "'Nuff to make a man wish for a kettle o' tar, or a pot o' black paint," said Pete one day. "What for, sir? Just to put on a coat of it, and change the colour of one's skin. They'd treat us better than they do. Makes me wish I was a nigger for a bit, so long as I could wash white when I got away." "Master Nic," said Pete one night when they were alone in their bunks, "I aren't going to share that bit o' 'possum." "What bit of 'possum?" asked Nic, as he lay listening to the low murmur arising from where Humpy Dee was talking to his fellow-prisoners, who were all chewing some tobacco-leaf which the former had managed to secrete. "Why, you know; that bit old Zamson give me, wrapped up in one o' them big leaves." "Oh yes; I had forgotten. Eat it, then; I don't mind." "Likely, aren't it?" grumbled Pete. "Good as it smells, for them black fellows do know how to cook a thing brown and make it smell nice. Can't you zee what I mean?" "No." "Want it for the dogs. I'm going to slip off after that boat as soon as it's a bit later." "Impossible, Pete. Don't try; you'll be shot at. There is sure to be one of the blacks outside the door with a musket." "Let him stop there, then. I aren't going by the door." "How, then?" "Climb up here to where I've got a couple o' them split wooden tiles-- shingles, as they call 'em--loose." "But you can't climb up there." "Can't I? Oh yes, my lad. There's them knot-holes, and I've got some pegs cut as fits into 'em, ready to stand on. I can get up easy enough." "But the dogs?" "Well, I smuggled a knife and sharpened it up, and it's tied to my leg in a sheath I made out of a bit o' bamboo cane." "But it would be madness to fight the poor brutes, and the noise would bring out Saunders with a gun." "Just what I thought, my lad," said Pete, laughing softly; "so I went on the other tack this month past." "I don't understand you, Pete." "I'll tell you, then, my lad," said Pete softly. "I made up my mind to get you back to the old country, and the on'y way to do it seems to be to make friends." "Make friends?" "That's it. Way that big dog, Gripper, took to you zet me thinking. If he was zet at you he'd lay hold, 'cause he's been taught to obey orders. He wouldn't want to, no more than a soldier might want to shoot a man; but if it was orders he'd do it. Well, I've thought a deal about them dogs, and dogs is dogs--eh, Master Nic?" "Of course," said the young man, smiling to himself. "And dogs has got zweet tooths, Master Nic; on'y the sugar they likes is a bit o' salt." "You mean you wanted that piece of roast 'possum to give the dogs if they came at you." "That's right, Master Nic. If old Zaunders was shouting 'em on, they wouldn't take no notice of the meat; but if he waren't there they'd be friends at once, and eat it. So I'm ready for 'em if they comes after me." "And you're going to try if you can find where they keep the boat to-night?" "_Sn-n-n-ork_!" said Pete, pinching his arm, and as the deep, low, snoring went on, Nic grasped the reason. For there was a faint rustling of the dry corn-leaves, which stopped, and went on again in the utter darkness, while beyond it the low murmur of talking continued. "The talking kept on to cover Humpy's movements," thought Nic. "He has heard us, and is coming to listen." Pete snored again, moved uneasily, and began to mutter in a low tone: "Couldn't throw Humpy Dee?" he said. "Let you see. Better wrastler than him. _Snore--snurrk_!" The rustling ceased, and then went on again. "Where's that there moog o' zyder, lads?" muttered Pete in a dull, stupid way. "Where's the huff-cap?" Then he smacked his lips, and said "Hah!" softly, turned himself over, yawned, and began to snore, keeping it up steadily, while the rustling went on; but it sounded now as if the man who made it was retiring. Nic listened, with every nerve on the strain, while Pete kept on the snoring, and a minute later he made out clearly enough that Humpy Dee had returned to his companions, and distinctly heard the change in the conversation, as the man whispered the result of his investigation. Pete's snore was lower now, and sounded as if it would last; but it did not, for the next moment Nic was conscious that his comrade was leaning over him; a pair of lips touched his ear, and a voice whispered: "He thinks he's clever, but we can be too sharp for him." "Don't talk any more," whispered Nic softly, "or he'll come back." "Right," said Pete, and the snoring recommenced. And as Nic lay there in the darkness, thinking over his companion's words, and feeling that it would have been madness to have made any attempt to leave the barrack-like shed, with watchful enemies both within and without, and the certainty in his mind that Humpy Dee's intention was to betray Pete so as to get him flogged for attempting to escape, the snoring went on, with a strange lulling effect. He had toiled hard that day in the burning sunshine, and had lain down after his supper with that pleasant sensation of weariness which comes to the healthy and strong; and he had been feeling a glow of satisfaction and thankfulness for the full recovery of all his faculties, when Pete had spoken as he did. It was not surprising, then, that the heavy breathing of his companion should have the effect it had, and that, just when he was in the midst of pleasant thoughts of the possibility of escape, he should suddenly pass from extreme wakefulness into deep sleep, in which he saw the red cliffs of Devon again, with the sparkling sea, and listened to the soft murmur of the falls low down in the combe. Back home once more. Then he opened his eyes with a start. "I've been asleep," he said to himself, as he listened to Pete's heavy breathing; "not for many minutes, though," he mused; and then he wondered and stared, for he could see the cracks and knot-holes of the wooden building against the grey dawn of the rapidly-coming day. "Why, I must have been asleep for hours and hours!" he mentally ejaculated. Proof came the next moment that it must have been eight hours at least, for the dull booming bellow of the great conch shell blown by one of the blacks rang out, and Pete started up in his bunk to stare at Nic and rub his calf softly. "Had a good night, Pete?" said the lad. "Tidy," said the man softly; "but one o' the dogs had me by the leg." "What! Surely you didn't go?" "Ay, but I did. He let go, though, when he smelt the roast meat. Smelt better than raw." "Pete!" ejaculated Nic, in his surprise. "Now then, rouse up, all on you," shouted Humpy Dee, "or they'll be sending in the dogs for us, and the cat for some one else." "Oh," thought Nic, as a pang of agony shot through him; "that wretch must have been on the watch." _ |
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