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

Chapter 27

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_ CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

I looked sharply round at the bush, hardly comprehending my black companion's remark.

"What?" I said, in a confused way.

"Wha dat gun?"

"I stood it up against that bush," I said; and then, shaking off the dull stupid feeling which troubled me, darted to the bush, expecting to see that it had slipped down among the little branches.

The gun was gone, and I looked round at the other bushes dotted about.

"I put it here, didn't I?"

"Yes; Mass' George put um gun dah. Pomp know," he cried, running to me, and dropping on his knees as he pointed to the impression left in the dry sand by the butt. "Gun gone down dah."

He began scratching up the sand for a few moments, and I watched him, half hoping and believing that he might be right.

But the boy ceased as quickly as he had begun.

"I know, Mass' George," he cried, starting up and gazing toward the river. "'Gator 'fraid we come shoot um, and come out of de ribber and 'teal a gun."

"Nonsense! An alligator wouldn't do that."

"Oh, I done know. 'Gator berry wicked ole rarksle."

"Where are the marks then?" I said.

"Ah, Pomp find um foots and de mark of de tail."

He looked sharply round, so did I; but as he searched the sand I examined the bushes, feeling that I must be mistaken, and that I must have laid the gun somewhere else.

It was very stupid, but I knew people did make such mistakes sometimes; and quite convinced now that this was a lapse of memory, began to cudgel my brains to try and recall the last thing I had done with the gun.

Pomp settled that, for he came back to me suddenly, and said--

"See Mass' George put de gun dah!"

"You are sure, Pomp?" I said, as he stood pointing his black finger at the bush.

"Yes, Pomp ebber so sure."

"Did you find any alligator marks?"

"No, Mass' George, nowhere."

"Then some one must have come and stolen it while we were eating."

"How people come 'teal a gun wif Pomp and Mass' George eatin' um breakfast here?"

"I don't know. Come and look for footsteps."

"Did; and de 'gator not been."

"No, but perhaps a man has."

"Man? No man lib here."

"Let's look," I whispered--"look for men's footsteps."

The boy glanced at me wonderingly for a moment or two, then nodded his head and began to search.

Where we stood by the bush, saving that the ground had been trampled by my feet, the task would have been easy enough, for everything showed in the soft dry sand; but the bush was at the edge where the sand began running from the foot of the bluff to the river, and everywhere on the other side was dense growth; patches of shrubs, grass, dry reed and rush, where hundreds of feet might have passed, and, save to the carefully-trained eye of an Indian, nothing would have been seen.

Certainly nothing was visible to me, but the fact that it was quite possible for a man to have crawled from the forest, keeping the patches of shrubby growth between him and us, till he reached the bushes, through which he could have cautiously stolen, and passing a hand over softly, lifted the gun and its pouches from where I had stood them, and then stolen away as he had come.

One thing was evident, we had an enemy not far away; and, unarmed as we were, saving that we had our knives, the sooner we took flight the better.

All this was plain to me, but as I gazed in Pomp's face I found it was not so clear to him; there was a strange look in his eyes, his skin did not seem so black as usual, and he was certainly trembling.

"Why, Pomp," I said, "don't look like that." For though I felt a little nervous, I saw no cause for the boy's abject dread, having yet to learn that anything not comprehensible to the savage mind is set down at once as being the work of some evil spirit.

He caught my arm and looked round, the whites of his eyes showing strangely, and his thick lips seemed drawn in as if to make a thin line.

"Come 'way," he whispered. "Run, Mass' George, run, 'fore um come and cotch us."

"Who? What?" I said, half angrily, though amused.

"Hush! Done holler, Mass' George, fear um hear. Come take us bofe, like um took de gun."

"I have it," I said suddenly. "Your father has come up the river after us, and he has taken the gun to tease us. Hi! Hannibal--Vanity--Van!"

"Oh, Mass' George! Oh, Mass' George, done, done holler. Not fader. Oh, no. It somefing dreffle. Let run."

"Why isn't it your father playing a trick?"

"Him couldn't play um trick if him try. No, Mass' George, him nebber play trick. It somefing dreffle. Come 'way."

"Well, we were going back," I said, feeling rather ashamed of my eagerness to get away, and still half uneasy about the gun, as I looked up at the tree where we had slept to see if I had left it there.

No; that was impossible, because I had had it to shoot the ducks. But still I might have put it somewhere else, and forgotten what I had done.

I turned away unwillingly, and yet glad, if that can be understood, and with Pomp leading first, we began our retreat as nearly as possible over the ground by which we had come.

For some little distance we went on in silence, totally forgetting the object of our journey; but as we got more distant from the scene of our last adventure, Pomp left off running into bushes and against trees in spite of my warnings, for he had been progressing with his head screwed round first on one side then on the other to look behind him, doing so much to drive away such terror as I felt by his comical aspect, that I ended by roaring with laughter.

"Oh, Mass' George," he said, reproachfully, "you great big foolish boy, or you no laugh like dat all. You done know what am after us."

"No," I said; "but I know we lost one of our guns, and father will be very cross. There, don't walk quite so fast."

"But Pomp want to run," he said, pitifully.

"And we can't run, because of the bushes and trees. I don't think there was anything to be afraid of, after all."

"Oh! Run, Mass' George, run!" yelled Pomp; and instead of running I stood paralysed for an instant at the scene before me.

We were pretty close to the river-bank, and forcing our way through a cane brake which looked just as if it must be the home of alligators, when a man suddenly stood in the boy's path.

Quick as thought the brave little fellow sprang at him, seeing in him an enemy, and called to me to run, which of course I did not do, but, as soon as I recovered from my surprise, ran on to his help. As I did so the path seemed darkened behind me, I heard a quick rustling, my arms were seized, and the next moment I was thrown down and a knee was on my chest.

"Oh, Mass' George, why didn't you run?"

Poor Pomp's voice rang out from close beside me in despairing tones, and I wrenched my head round, just catching a glimpse of him through the canes. Then I looked up in the stern faces of my captors, thinking that I had seen them before, though no doubt it was only a similarity of aspect that struck me, as I realised that we had fallen into the hands of the Indians once more.

They did not give us much time to think, but after taking away our knives twisted up some lithe canes and secured our wrists and arms behind us, two holding each of us upright, while another fastened our hands.

Then they drew back from us, and stood round looking at us as if we were two curiosities.

"Well, this is a nice game, Pomp," I said at last.

"Yes, dis nice game, Mass' George. Why you no run away?"

"How could I?"

"How you could? You ought run, jump in libber and go 'cross. Wish I run and tell de capen an' Mass' Morgan."

"Ah!" I ejaculated.

"You tie too tight, Mass' George?"

"Yes, but I was thinking of something else. Pomp, those Indians are going to attack our place and the settlement, and no one will know they are coming."

"Pomp hope so," he said, sulkily, and screwing himself about with the pain caused by his tight bonds.

"What?"

"Den de capen an' Mass' Morgan shoot um, an' Serb um right."

"But they will take them by surprise."

"Wait bit. We soon get dese off, and go down tell 'em Injum come."

"I'm afraid we shall not have the chance."

Just then a firm brown hand was clapped on my shoulder, and a stalwart Indian signed to me to go on through the canes.

I obeyed mechanically, seeing the while that the half-dozen Indians who had captured us had silently increased to over a dozen quietly-moving, stealthy-looking fellows, who passed through the dense thicket, almost without a sound, and with their eyes watchfully turned in every direction, as if they were always on the look-out for danger. And so I walked awkwardly on, feeling, now that my arms were bound behind me, as if at any moment I should stumble and fall.

The mystery of the gun's disappearance was clear enough now, without the proof which came later on. It was quite plain to me that some of these strange, furtive-looking savages had crawled up behind the bush and carried off the piece, after which they had lain in ambush waiting for us to retrace our steps along the track we had broken down the previous day, and then pounced upon us and made us prisoners.

At my last encounter they had contented themselves with following us home, but now everything seemed to betoken mischief. They seemed to me to be better armed, and had begun to treat us roughly by binding our arms, and this it struck me could only mean one thing--to keep us from getting away and giving the alarm.

I felt too now--for thoughts came quickly--that the report of the gun that morning had guided them to our temporary camp, that and the smoke of the fire; and as I felt how unlucky all this was, I found that we were getting farther and farther from the river, and in a few minutes more we were in an open portion of the wood, where about fifty more Indians were seated about a fire.

A shout from our party made them all start to their feet and come to meet us, surrounding and staring at us in a fierce, stolid way that sent a chill through me as the question rose--Would they kill us both?

In a dull, despondent way the answer seemed to me--_yes_; not just then, for we were both placed back against a young tree, and hide ropes being produced, we were tightly bound to the trunks and left, while the Indians all gathered together in a group, squatted down, and sat in silence for a time smoking.

Then all at once I saw one jump up, axe in hand, to begin talking loudly, gesticulating, waving his axe, and making quite a long address, to which the others listened attentively, grunting a little now and then, and evidently being a good deal influenced by his words.

At last he sat down and another took his place, to dance about, talking volubly the while, and waving his axe too, and evidently saying threatening things, which, as he pointed at us now and then, and also in the direction of the settlement, I felt certain must relate to their expedition.

In spite of my anxiety about my fate, I could not help feeling interested in these people, for everything was so new and strange. But other thoughts soon forced themselves upon me. They must, I felt, be going on to the settlement, and it was my duty at any cost to get away, and give the alarm. But how?

"Pomp," I said, after a time, "do you think we could get loose and run back home?"

The boy looked at me with his face screwed up.

"Pomp done know," he said.

"Could you get the knots undone?"

"Pomp 'fraid try. Come and hit um. Going to kill us, Mass' George?"

"Oh, no; I don't think there's any fear of that."

"Then why they tie us up?"

"Don't talk so loud. It makes them look round."

"Look dah!"

"What at?"

"Dah de gun. Dat big ugly Injum got um. Him fief."

"Never mind the gun," I said. "Let's think about getting away."

"Yes; dat's what Pomp do fink about, Mass' George."

"If they had not taken our knives, I might perhaps have cut ourselves free. Oh, I'd give anything to let them know at home. Look here; if you can get loose, never mind about me; run back home, and warn my father to escape to the settlement."

"You tell um," said Pomp, shortly.

"But I mean if you can get free without me."

"What, you fink Pomp run 'way and leab Mass' George all 'lone?"

"Yes; it is to save those at home."

"Capen flog um for going."

"No, no; he would not."

"Fader knock um down an' kick um."

"I tell you he would not. Try all you can to get loose and creep away when they are not looking."

"Always looking," said Pomp, shortly; and it was quite true, for some one or other of the Indians always seemed to be on the watch, and after trying to wrench myself clear, I stood resting my aching legs by hanging a little on the rope, for the hours were slowly gliding by, and afternoon came without relief.

At last a couple of the men brought us some water and a piece each of badly-roasted and burned deer-flesh, setting our hands at liberty so that we could eat and drink, but leaving the hide ropes holding us tightly to the trees, and sitting down to watch us, listening intently as we spoke, but evidently not understanding a word.

"Well," I said, after a few minutes, during which I had been eating with very poor appetite, "why don't you eat, Pomp?"

"Done like um. 'Mell nasty."

"It's only burnt," I said.

"How Mass' George know what um eat?"

"What?" I said, looking curiously at the meat.

"Pomp fink it poor lil nigger been kill and cook um."

"Nonsense; it's deer's flesh."

"Mass' George sewer?"

"Yes, quite."

"Oh!"

That was all the boy said, for he set to work directly and soon finished his portion, taking a good deep drink afterward; and as soon as he had done one of the Indians secured his hands again, a task which necessitated a loosening of the hide rope, Pomp submitting with a very good grace.

Then came my turn, and as soon as I was secured, the Indians went slowly back to where the others were grouped, and squatted down to listen to the talking going on.

It was a weary, weary time; the sun was getting lower, and birds came and chirped about in the dense branches of the trees to which we were bound, and I felt a strange feeling of envy as I looked up from time to time and thought of their being at liberty to come and go. And all through those painfully long hours the talking went on constantly about the fire, which one or the other of the Indians made up by throwing on some branches of wood.

As I watched them, I saw that they kept going and coming in different directions, so that the number in the camp did not vary much, and though the day wore on, there was no cessation of the talking, for there was always a fresh Indian ready to leap to his feet, and begin relating something with the greatest vehemence, to which the rest listened attentively.

"They must be going on to the settlement to-night," I thought; and as I noted their bows, arrows, axes, and knives, I conjured up horrors that I felt would be sure to take place if we could not get free and give the alarm.

All sorts of plans occurred to me. The forest would, I felt, be full of the enemy, and if we could get loose there would be no chance of our stealing away without being captured. But could we get across the river in safety, and make our way along the farther bank; or could we swim down? I shuddered as I thought of what would be the consequences of trying such a feat.

Then my ponderings were interrupted by the coming of a couple more of the Indians, who examined our fastenings and then went back.

"Mass' George 'leep?" said Pomp suddenly, in a low voice.

"Asleep? No. Who could go to sleep like this?"

"No, not nice go 'leep 'tanning up," said Pomp, coolly; and there was a long pause, with the monotonous talking of the Indians still going on.

All at once one of the Indians who had last examined our bonds came back, peeping about him inquiringly, examining our ropes, and looking about our feet for some minutes before going back, carefully scanning the ground and bushes as he went, and after a good deal of hesitation reseating himself.

By this time I was utterly wearied out, and hung forward from the rope with my head upon my chest, gazing down hopelessly at the thick moss and other growth at our feet.

"Mass' George 'leep?" whispered Pomp again.

"No, no," I said, sadly; "I could not sleep at a time like this."

"'Cause Mass' George no go to sleep."

I looked at him despondently, and saw that he was amusing himself by picking the moss and leaves with his toes, getting a tuft together, snatching it off, and dropping it again, almost as cleverly as a monkey would have done the same thing.

Then I ceased to notice it, for I saw a couple of the Indians get up from the fireside, and come to examine us again. They felt all the knots, and appeared satisfied, going back to the fire as before, while others threw on fresh sticks. Then the smoking and talking went on, and the flames cast their shadows about, and on the trees now in a peculiarly weird way.

We were almost in darkness, but they were in what seemed to be a circle or great halo of red light, which shone upon their copper-coloured skins, and from the axes and the hilts of the knives they had stuck in the bands of their deer-skin leggings.

"Soon be quite dark now, Mass' George," whispered Pomp; "den you see."

"See? See what? Their fire?"

"Wait bit--you see."

My heart gave a great throb, and I wanted to speak, but the words in my agitation would not come. It was evident that the boy had some plan afoot, and as I waited for him to speak again, feeling ashamed that this poor black savage lad should be keener of intellect than I, he suddenly began to laugh.

"Pomp," I whispered, "what is it?"

"You mose ready, Mass' George?"

"Ready? What for?"

"You see dreckerly. You know what dat Injum look about for?"

"No."

"Lose um knife."

"Well?"

"Pomp got um."

"You have? Where?"

"Down dah," he said, making a sign with one foot toward the loose moss and leaves he had picked.

"Why, Pomp," I whispered, joyfully, "how did you manage that?"

"Ciss! Coming."

Two of the Indians had risen again from the fire, and once more approached, feeling the knots, and to my despair, binding us more securely with a couple of fresh ropes of hide.

Then I saw their dark figures go half way to the fire, return and pass near us, and out along the banks of the river toward the settlement.

Then six more rose and went slowly out of sight among the trees, and I felt that these must be going to form outposts to guard the little camp from attack.

"Now, Mass' George," whispered Pomp--"ah, look dah."

I was already looking, and saw that about a dozen more left the fireside to go out in different directions, their tall dark figures passing out of sight among the trees.

"What are you going to do with the knife?" I whispered softly.

"'Top; you see," said the boy.

"But how did you get it?"

"You see dat Injum come feel de rope. He 'tuck Pomp head down under um arm while he tie de knot hurt um, so Pomp mean to bite um; but Pomp see de handle ob de knife 'tick up close to um mouf, and um take hold wid um teef, pull um out, and let um fall and put um foot ober um."

"Oh, Pomp!" I said.

"Den he gone, Pomp push um out ob sight and put um foot ober um again, and now I juss pick um up wid Pomp toe."

I heard a faint rustle, and then he whispered after a faint grunting sound--

"Got um."

I stared sidewise at where he was--only about six feet away--and half fancied that I could see him pick up the knife with his toes, and bend his foot up till he could pass the blade into his hand.

"Hff!"

"What's the matter?" I whispered, as I heard a faint ejaculation.

"Pomp cut umself."

Then I heard a curious sawing sound, which seemed to be loud enough to reach the Indians' ears, but as I looked, they were all talking, and I turned my eyes again in the direction of my companion, whose black body and light drawers had stood out plainly in the faint glow of the fire a minute before, and I could only just restrain an exclamation, for he was not there.

At the same moment his lips were at my ear--

"'Tan 'till."

I obeyed, and felt the tension and loosening as he rapidly cut through the hide rope and the cane bonds which held me; but I was so stiff, and my wrists were so numbed, that the feeling had gone from my hands.

"Mass' George ready?"

"No; yes," I said, as I gazed wildly at the group about the fire, and felt that our movements must be seen. But the Indians made no sign, and Pomp went on--

"Injum ebberywhere now. Can't run away."

"But we must," I whispered.

"Catchum gain, dreckerly. Dis here tree. Mass' George go up fuss."

"Up the tree!" I faltered.

Then grasping the cleverness of the boy's idea, I stretched out my arms, seized a branch overhead, and in spite of my numbness, swung myself up and stood on it, holding by the branch of the great pine close behind the two small trees to which we had been bound.

Pomp was beside me directly. "Up!" he whispered; and as silently as I could, I crept on toward the dense crown, the many horizontal branches giving good foot-hold, and the fire gleaming among the needle-like foliage as I went higher, with Pomp always ready to touch me and try to guide.

It was a huge tree, quite a cone of dense foliage, after we were some distance up, and we had just reached the part where great, flat, heavily-laden boughs spread between us and the ground, when Pomp drew himself quickly to my side, and laid his hand on my mouth.

It was not necessary, for at the same moment as he I had noted the danger, just catching sight of two black shadows on the ground, which I knew were those of a couple of the Indians approaching our trees from the fire.

Then we could see no more, but remained there clinging to the boughs as if part of the tree itself, wondering what was to come.

It seemed quite a space of time before from just below I heard a discordant yell which thrilled through me, and actually for the moment made me loose my hold. But I was clinging fast again directly, as the yell was answered by a couple of score of throats; there was the rapid beat of feet, the crunching of dead sticks and crushing of bushes, and I clung there with closed eyes, listening to a confused gabble of excited voices, and waiting for what I seemed to know would come next.

For in my excitement I could in fancy picture the Indians examining the cut thongs lying where they had dropped by the trees, and then one great stalwart fellow took a step out from the rest and pointed up to where we two clung forty feet from the ground, and I saw a score of arrows fitted to the bow-strings, and their owners prepare to shoot and bring us down.

I cannot attempt to describe the sensation that thrilled through me in what was almost momentary, nor the wild thoughts flashing in my brain. I only know that I wondered whether the arrow which pierced me would hurt much, and thought what a pity it was that the tree we were in did not hang over the stream, so that we might have fallen in the water.

But no flight of arrows rattled among the boughs, and all we heard was the gabble of excited voices. Then came yell after yell from a little distance farther away from the settlement, and from the excited questioning which seemed to follow, I knew that a number of the Indians had returned to the camp to talk hurriedly to those beneath the tree.

Then there were a couple of yells given in a peculiar tone, and a faint series of sounds reached us, suggesting to me that the whole party had spread out, and were quickly and cautiously creeping along through the forest from the edge of the stream for some distance in, and then all was still. _

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