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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 18. Humpy Dee's Plan Goes "A-Gley" |
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_ CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. HUMPY DEE'S PLAN GOES "A-GLEY" It all seemed to Nic like part of some terrible dream, for a strange struggle was going on in his weakened brain, where reason seemed to come and go by pulsations. One minute everything appeared to be real, the next it was dream-like; and he was so convinced that in a short time he would wake up that he walked quietly on side by side with one of the negroes, taking notice of the place, which seemed to be a port, with the beginnings of a town dropped down in a scattered fashion a short distance from the mouth of a river. The houses were of timber, and to each there was a large, roughly fenced-in piece of cultivated ground, with some trees standing, while others had been cut down, leaving the blackened stumps in all directions. It was a strange mingling of shed, shipbuilding-yard, and store, for many of the erections and their surroundings wore all the aspect of barns. As the little party now tramped on, with the prisoners' fetters giving forth a dull, clanking sound, the aspect of the place grew more and more rustic, the people who stopped to stare fewer, till, as they reached a large boarded house, evidently nearly new, and against whose rough fence a farmer-like man, in a damaged straw hat, was leaning, gazing intently at the prisoners. All beyond seemed trees and wild growth, amidst which the river made a curve, and the trampled track looked more green. Nic looked half-wonderingly at the man leaning upon the fence, and felt that he was going to speak in commiseration of his plight; but the next moment his hopes were dashed, for the settler shouted: "How are you, Master Saunders? How's the Gaffer?" "All well," said the overseer, with a nod. "Seems a nice, tidy, strong-limbed lot you've got there, master." "Oh yes; pretty well." "Some of all sorts. That's an ugly one," continued the farmer, pointing to Humpy Dee, and mentally valuing him as if he were one in a herd of cattle. "But I daresay he can work." "He'll have to," said the overseer, and Nic saw that each black face wore a grin, while Humpy was scowling savagely. "Yes, I should like a lot such as that. 'Member me to the Gaffer. Tell him to look in if he comes to town." "Yes," thought Nic as they passed on; "it must be a dream, and I shall wake soon." It grew more and more dream-like to him as the track was followed among the trees till a rough landing-place was reached, formed by some huge stakes driven down into the mud, with heavy planks stretched over to them, and others laid across. The reddening sun was turning the gliding water to gold, as it ran up the river now, for the flood-tide was running fast; and as they drew nearer, Nic caught sight of what looked like the launch of some large vessel swinging by a rope fastened to an upright of the landing-stage. Just then one of the blacks uttered a peculiar, melodious cry, the great dogs bounded on to the stage and began to bark, and a couple of blacks, dressed like those about him, sprang up in the boat, where they had been lying asleep, and began to haul upon the now unfastened rope to draw the craft up to the stage. Nic's head was throbbing again, and the unreality and novelty of the scene increased. "I shall wake soon," he said to himself. "How strange it is!" For at that moment, as the boat came abreast, he saw one of the great dogs leap from the stage, run to the stern, and sit down, the others following and joining it behind the seat provided with a back rail. It seemed to be no new thing to the blacks, for the huge fellow who had acted as smith stepped down into the boat, followed by his assistant, walked aft, and deposited his bag with the dogs, and then stooped down and drew from under the side-seat a couple of muskets, one of which he handed to his assistant, both examining their priming, and then seating themselves one on either side of the boat, with their guns between their legs, watching the embarkation. "You next," said the overseer to Pete; and the prisoner walked to the edge, made as if to leap, but checked himself and climbed down, feeling that the other way would have been risky, weighted as his legs were by the shackles. "Help your young mate," said the overseer roughly; and Pete's eyes flashed as he stood up and held out his hand to Nic, who shrank from the contact as his wrist was caught. Then he descended feebly into the boat, and then had to be helped right forward, to sit down close to one of the blacks who was now holding on to the woodwork with a boat-hook. The other prisoners followed awkwardly enough in their irons, and took the places pointed out to them by one of the blacks who had been in charge of the boat. As the second of the party took his place next to Pete, he hung down his head and whispered: "Humpy says we're to make a dash for it and take the boat." Pete started; but the man, under the pretence of adjusting his irons, went on, with his head nearly in his comrade's lap: "T'others know. We shall push off into the stream, where he can't hit us with his pistols, and we can soon pitch the niggers overboard." "Silence, there!" shouted the overseer. The other men descended, and exchanged glances with their companions-- glances which Pete saw meant "Be ready!"--and his blood began to dance through his veins. Should he help, or shouldn't he? Yes; they were his fellows in adversity, and it was for liberty: he must--he would; and, with his heart beating hard, he prepared for the struggle, feeling that they must succeed, for a blow or two would send the men by them overboard, and a thrust drive the boat gliding swiftly up-stream, the man with the boat-hook having enough to do to hold on. "Young Nic Revel don't zeem to understand," thought Pete; "but he couldn't help us if he did." He had hardly thought this when, in obedience to an order from the overseer, the last man, Humpy Dee, tramped clumsily to the edge and seemed to hesitate, with the result that there was a sharp bark from one of the dogs right astern, and a chill ran through Pete's burning veins. "I forgot the dogs!" he said to himself. "Get down, fool!" cried the overseer, and he struck at the hesitating prisoner with the whip. It was all a feint on the part of Humpy to gain time and carry out his plan. He winced as the whip-lash caught him on his leg, and then, instead of descending slowly, leaped down right upon the black who held the boat to the stage by the hook. It was cleverly done, and acted as intended, for the black was driven over the side, and the prisoner's weight gave the boat the impetus required, sending it a little adrift into the stream, which began to bear it away, but not before the result of a little miscalculation had made itself evident. For Humpy Dee had not allowed for the weight and cumbersomeness of his fetters; neither had he given them credit for their hampering nature. He had leaped and suddenly thrust the black overboard, to hang clinging to the boat-hook; but he had been unable to check himself from following; and, as the boat yielded to his weight and thrust, he seemed to take a header over the bow, there was a tremendous splash, and the water was driven over those seated forward. The two blacks astern leaped up, and the overseer uttered a cry of rage; the water closed over Humpy Dee's head, while the dogs set up a chorus of baying as the boat glided steadily away. _ |
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