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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 32. Never Say Die |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. NEVER SAY DIE "What zay?" cried Pete sharply. "Never zay die, lad. English lads are never beat. Look at that!" He pointed through the trees at where the streamlet widened into the little creek where they had first landed, and Nic rubbed his eyes, refusing to believe in what he saw. But there it was plain enough in the dim, grey dawn--the boat lying tied up to the post; and a great sob rose to the poor fellow's lips, while for a few moments he could not stir. Then a thrill of excitement ran through him as he looked round and saw that the dogs had passed out of sight beyond the long, low shed which had been their jail. It came like a flash to him now what must have taken place--one of those guesses at the truth which hit the mark. He knew that his enemies had dashed off in pursuit of the men who had made for the boat. They must have been overtaken during the night, brought back, and were doubtless at that moment shut up in their old quarters. Nic hurriedly told Pete his impression, and the latter slapped his leg. "That's it," he said, "and zarve 'em right, zir. That's tumbling into the hole you made for zomebody else, isn't it? That's why they've not blown the old shell yet and didn't put the boat back. Been out all night." "Could we make sure by trying to see whether there is any one on guard at the barrack-door?" "Zoon do that, zir," said Pete; and, going down upon hands and knees, he crawled away among the bushes, to be back in a few minutes. "Old Zamson and Zerk both there at the door, zir, with guns." "Then they have caught them," said Nic excitedly. "But the blacks are both sitting down, fast asleep, zir." "Worn out with their night's work, Pete; but the prisoners will be well ironed and safe enough." "Ay, zir, or they'd have had the boat by now." "Now then, can we crawl to it under cover? We must be off at once." "Couldn't on'y crawl half-way, zir, and then it's all open, and we might be shot at if they zaw us from the house. Better make a dash for it at once and chance it." "Come on, then," cried Nic; and they ran as quickly as they could down by the side of the creek, reached the boat in safety, found that the poles and oars were in their places, and jumped in. There was no stopping to untie the rope which ran across the gunwale. Pete's knife flew out and sawed through it in a moment or two. Then one vigorous thrust sent the craft into the stream; but before they had cleared the creek there was a shout, followed by the whiz of a bullet and the report of a musket. "All right; fire away. Shouldn't come back if you was a ridgment of zojers," cried Pete, who was sending the boat along vigorously with the pole. "Lie down, Master Nic; they're going to shoot again." "And leave you there?" cried Nic. "No." Instead of screening himself by the boat's side, Nic seized two oars, got them over the rowlocks, and as soon as they were in the river he began to pull with all his might, watching the figure of Saunders limping slowly down after them and stopping from time to time for a shot; Samson and Xerxes, wakened by the firing, hurrying up, handing him a fresh musket, and reloading each time. "Don't see nothing of the gaffer," said Pete coolly; "he must have been hurt too, or he'd have been after us. There come the blacks. Hear that?" Plainly enough, for the whistle was very shrill, and it was answered by the dogs, which came tearing round the end of the shed to follow the overseer. "Row faster than they can zwim," said Pete, laying down the pole. "Here, give us one oar, Master Nic," he continued; and, taking his seat, the oar was handed to him, and, aided by the current, the boat began to move more swiftly. "Why, there's the gaffer," cried Pete suddenly; and Nic saw that the settler was coming down from the house by the help of a stick, while the dogs stood close by Saunders, barking loudly. "There must have been a desperate fight in the night, Pete," cried Nic. "Look, there are two of the blacks with their heads tied up." "And jolly glad I am, Master Nic. I shouldn't have cried much if they'd all killed one another and left nothing but the bones. There, put that gun away, stoopid; you can't hit us at this distance." The overseer seemed to have thought so too, for he lowered the musket, and Nic just caught sight of him striking savagely with it at the dogs, which began to bay and make rushes at him. But Nic saw no more, for a bend in the river, with a clump of trees thereon, hid the plantation from their sight; while Pete began to sing an old West-country ditty, something about a clever moneyless adventurer who, no matter what task he undertook, always succeeded in getting the best of his adversaries. The words were absurd and often childish, but there was a ring in the familiar old melody that went straight to Nic's heart and brought a strange moisture to his eyes, for it thrilled him with hope, and brought up memories of the far-away home that he began to feel now he might see again. And that feeling of hope drove away the horrible dread and the miserable sensation of weariness, sending vigour through every nerve, and making him bend to his oar to take a full grip of the water and swing back at the same moment as Pete, making the river ripple and plash beneath the bows and driving the boat merrily along, just as if the two fugitives were moved by the same spirit.
"Zinging right fol de ree!" cried Pete. "Zay, Master Nic, why don't you join in chorus? You know that old zong." "Ay, Pete, I know it," said Nic; "but my heart's too full for singing." "Nay, not it, lad. Do you good. That's why I began. Mine felt so full that it was ready to burst out, and if I hadn't begun to zing I should ha' broken zomething. I zay, Master Nic, get out o' stroke and hit me a good whack or two with your oar and fisties, right in the back." "What for?" "To waken me up. I'm dreaming, I'm afraid, and I'd rather be roused up than go on in a dream like this. It's zo hearty, you zee, and makes me feel as if I could go on rowing for a month without getting tired." "So do I now, Pete." "Well, that's real, Master Nic. I dunno, though; p'raps it aren't, and I want it cut short. It would be horrid to wake up and find it all zleep-hatching; but the longer I go on the worse I shall be. It's dreaming, aren't it, and we didn't get away?" "You know it is not a dream, Pete," replied Nic. "We have escaped--I mean, we have begun to escape." "Begun, lad? Why, we've half-done it," cried Pete, who was wild with excitement. "Pull away, and let's zhow 'em what West-country muscles can do. Pull lad, pull, and keep me at it, or I zhall be getting up and dancing zailor's hornpipe all over the boat, and without music. Music! Who wants music? My heart's full of music and zinging of home again, and I don't know what's come to my eyes. Master Nic, all this river, and the trees, and fog rising on each zide through the trees, looks zo beautiful that I must be dreaming. Zay, lad, do tell me I ra-ally am awake." "Yes, Pete, awake--wide awake; and I am feeling just the same. My heart's beating with hope as it never beat before." "Hooroar for Master Nic's heart!" cried the big fellow wildly. "Beat away, good old heart, for we're going to do it, and it'll be just as easy as kissing your hand." "We mustn't be too sanguine." "Oh yes, we must, lad. I don't know what being zangwing is, but if it's anything to do with fancying we shall get away, I zay let's be as zangwing as we can. None of your getting into the dumps and 'shan't do it' now. We're free, my lad--free; and I should just like to have a cut at any one as zays we aren't. Zlaves, indeed! White zlaves! But I knowed it couldn't last. You can't make a zlave of an Englishman, Master Nic. You may call him one, and put irons on him, or shut him up like zyder in a cask, and hammer the bung in; but zooner or later he'll zend the bung out flying, or burst the hoops and scatter the staves. It was only waiting our chance, and we've got it; and here we are rowing down this here river in the boat, and they may hoe the old plantation themselves. Zay, Master Nic." "Yes, Pete." "Don't it zeem strange what a differ a black skin makes in a man?" "What do you mean--in the colour?" "Nay-ay-ay-ay, lad! I mean 'bout being a zlave. Here's these niggers brought here and made zlaves of, and they zettles down to it as happy-go-lucky as can be. They don't zeem to mind. They eat and drink all they can, and zleep as much as they can, and they do as little work as they can. Why, I zometimes did three times as much hoeing as one o' they in a day; and that aren't bragging." "No, Pete; they took it very easy." "I should just think they did, my lad; and then the way they'd laugh! I never zee any one laugh as they could. I s'pose that's what makes their mouths zo big and their teeth zo white. Gets 'em bleached by opening their mouths zo wide." "Look, Pete!" whispered Nic. "Wasn't that something moving on the right bank?" "Yes; I zee it, Master Nic. Dunno what it was, but it waren't a man on the watch. Zay; they aren't got another boat anywhere, have they?" "Oh no; I feel sure they have not," said Nic sharply. "Then we're all right. This water's running zwift, and we're making the boat move pretty fast. They can't zwim half as fast as we're going, and they've no horses, and the dogs can't smell on the river, even if they made a raft of the trees they've got cut down yonder." "It would take them a day, Pete." "Ay, it would, Master Nic; and going on as we're going, we shall be a long way on at the end of a day." "Yes; we shall be some distance towards the mouth. I begin to think, Pete, that we shall really manage to escape." "Yes, we've done it this time, Master Nic; and we only want a veal-pie, a cold zalmon, a couple o' loaves, and a stone bottle o' zyder, to be 'bout as happy as any one could be." "But do you think we can reach the mouth of the river without being stopped?" "Don't zee who's to stop uz, zir," said Pete coolly. "What we've got to do is to row a steady stroke till we come to a place where we can get zome'at to eat; and then we'll row right out to zea, and get ourselves picked up by the first ship we can board. But we zeem to want that there veal-pie, cold zalmon, two loaves, and the stone bottle." "Yes, we want provisions, Pete. Are you keeping a good, sharp lookout?" "I just am, Master Nic. I'm afraid it's taking zome of the bark off when I look among the trees. But we needn't; nobody can't overtake uz unless we tie the boat up to a tree on the bank and lie down to go to zleep." "And that we shall not even think of doing, Pete." "That's zo, Master Nic. But by-and-by, when the zun gets hot and you're a bit tired, we'll get ashore zomewhere to break off a few good leafy boughs and make a bit of a shelter in the stern of the boat, zo as you can lie down and have a zleep." "Or you, Pete." "When it's my turn, Master Nic. We'll take watch and watch, as the zailors call it, zo as to keep the boat going till we get aboard a ship. I zay, how far do you make it to the landing-place where we come aboard the boat?" "I can't say, Pete," replied Nic. "I was in such a confused state that I have lost all count." "And I aren't much better, zir. You zee, we landed and slept on the road, and that took up time; but I've allowed us three days and nights as being plenty to get down to the zea; and that means tying up to the bank when the river's again' uz--I mean, when we come to where the tide runs, for we should knock ourzelves up trying to pull this heavy, lumbering old boat against the stream." Nic nodded, as he kept on looking anxiously astern; but he said nothing, and they rowed steadily on. "Zay, Master Nic," said Pete suddenly. "Yes." "Getting hot, aren't it?" "Terribly." "Well, I can't zay that, zir, because the zun aren't shining now on a zlave's back; it's on a free man's, and that makes all the differ. But what are you thinking about?" "The possibility of seeing another boat coming round the bend of the river." "It's unpossible, zir. The gaffer hadn't got no other boat to come in. I believe we was the only other planters up the river, and that there'll be no boat till we come to the places where we stayed of a night, and it's a zight nearer the zea. I keep on thinking, though, a deal." "What about--our escaping?" "Nay. It's very queer, Master Nic, and I s'pose it's because I'm zo empty." "Thinking of food, Pete?" said Nic sadly. "Yes, Master Nic. More I tries not to, more I keeps on 'bout veal-pie, cold zalmon, and zyder." "Ah yes, we must contrive to get some provisions after a bit." They rowed on in silence for some time, with the sun gathering power and beating down upon their heads, and flashing back from the surface of the river, till at last Pete said suddenly: "We must run the boat ashore close to those trees, Master Nic, or we shall be going queer in the head for want of cover." "Yes; I feel giddy now, Pete. Do you think we could tie a few leaves together for hats?" "You'll zee, my lad," said the man. "I could do it best with rushes, but I'll work zomething to keep off the zun." The boat was run in under the shade of a tree whose boughs hung down and dipped in the running stream; and as Pete laid in his oar he glanced down over the side and saw fish gliding away, deep down in the transparent water. "Zee um, zir?" said Pete. "Yes; there are some good-sized fish, Pete." "And either of 'em would make uz a dinner if we'd got a line." "And bait, Pete." "Oh, I'll manage a bait, Master Nic. Dessay they'd take a fly, a beetle, or a berry, or a worm, but I aren't got neither hook nor line. I'm going to have one, though, zoon, for the way I'm thinking o' cold zalmon is just horrid. I could eat it raw, or live even, without waiting for it to be cooked. These aren't zalmon, but they're vish." Nic said little, for he could think of nothing but the overseer coming into sight with musket and dogs, and his eyes were constantly directed up the river. But Pete took it all more calmly. He had dragged the boat beneath the shade of the overhanging tree, secured it to one of the boughs with the remains of the rope, several feet having fortunately been passed through the ring-bolt to lie loose in the bottom; and while Nic kept watch he roughed out something in the shape of a couple of basket-like caps, wove in and out a few leaves, and ended by placing them before his companion. "They aren't very han'some, Master Nic," he said, "but they'll keep the zun off. What do you zay now to lying down and having a nap while I take the watch?" "No, no," cried Nic excitedly; "let's go on at once." "I'm ready, Master Nic, but, if you could take both oars, I've been thinking that I could cut off one sleeve of my shirt, loosen and pull out the threads, and then twissen 'em up into a sort o' fishing-line, paying it over with some of the soft pitch here at the bottom of the boat, so as it would hold together a bit." "And what about a fish-hook?" asked Nic. "Ah, that's what bothers me, master. I've been thinking that when we get on into that great big marsh of a place where the river runs through the trees we might stop and vish, for there must be plenty there, or else the 'gators wouldn't be so plentiful. I did zee one big fellow, close to the top, in the clear water where it looked like wine. I thought it was a pike as we come up, and I felt as if I should like to try for him; but how to do it without a hook's more than I can tell. But we must have zomething to eat, Master Nic, or we shall be starved, and never get away after all." "Go on making your line," said Nic thoughtfully. "I'll row." As Nic took both oars Pete unfastened the piece of rope, and the boat began to glide along with the stream, while the latter burst into a low and hearty laugh. "On'y think o' that now, Master Nic. There's no need for me to spoil my shirt when there's a vishing-line half-made, and a hook waiting to be finished." "Where? What do you mean?" cried Nic excitedly. "Why, here in the bows, lad. I've on'y got to unlay this piece o' rope--it's nearly new-- and then I can twist up yards o' line." "But the hook, man--the hook?" "There it be, Master Nic--the ring in the bolt. I've on'y got to zaw it through with my knife, bend it to get it out, and then hammer one part out straight, ready to tie on to the line, and there you are." "But--" "Oh, I know; it won't be as good as a cod-hook, because it won't have no point nor no barb, but I'll tie a big frog or a bit o' zomething on to it, and if I don't yank a vish out with it afore night I never caught a zalmon." Nic winced a little at the word "salmon," but he kept his thoughts to himself and went on rowing; while Pete set to work with such goodwill that he soon had plenty of the rope unlaid, and began to plait the hempen threads into a coarse line, which grew rapidly between his clever fingers. But many hours had passed, and they were gliding through the interminable shades of the cypress swamp before he prepared to saw at the ring. It was Nic who made the next suggestion. "Pete," he said quickly, "why not take the head off the pole? It is very small for a boat-hook, and it is quite bright. There's a hole for you to fasten the line to, and a big pike-like fish might run at it as it is drawn through the water." "Of course it might, lad. Well, that is a good idea. Why waren't I born clever?" Pete set to work at once, and after a great deal of hard work he managed to cut away the wood from the nail-like rivet which held the head on to the shaft, after which a few blows sufficed to break the iron hook away, with the cross rivet still in place, ready to serve as a hold for the newly-made line. "Wonder whether a vish'll take it, Master Nic," said Pete as he stood up in the boat. "Now if it was one o' them 'gators I could lash my knife on to the end of the pole and spear a little un, but I s'pose it wouldn't be good to eat." Nic shook his head. "Might manage one to-morrow, zir, if we don't ketch a vish." Nic shook his head again. "I mean, zir, when we're nex' door to starvation-point. Don't feel as if I could touch one to-day." "Don't talk about the horrible reptiles, Pete," said Nic, with a shudder. "Right, Master Nic, I won't, for horrid they be; and I don't mind telling you that when I zwimmed across to get this boat I was in such a fright all the time that I felt all of a zweat. I don't know whether I was, for it don't zeem nat'ral-like for a man to come all over wet when he's all wet already; but that's how I felt. There we are, then. I'm ready, Master Nic, if you'll go on steady, on'y taking a dip now and then to keep her head straight." He held up the iron hook, which began to spin round, and he chuckled aloud. "I wouldn't be zuch a vool as to throw a thing like that into the water at home, Master Nic," he said, "for no vish would be zuch a vool as to run at it; but out here the vish are only zavages, and don't know any better. That's what I hopes." Nic began to dip an oar now and then, so as to avoid the rotten stumps, snags, and half-fallen trees, as the stream carried them on, so that he had little opportunity for noting the occupants of this dismal swamp; but Pete's eyes were sharp, and he saw a good deal of the hideous, great lizard-like creatures lying about on the mud or upon rotten trunks, with their horny sides glistening in the pencils of light which pierced the foliage overhead, or made sunny patches where, for the most part, all was a dim twilight, terribly suggestive of what a man's fate might be if he overbalanced himself and fell out of the boat. "I believe them great 'gators are zo hungry," said Pete to himself, "that they'd rush at one altogether and finish a fellow, bones and all." At last: "Looks a reg'lar vishy place, Master Nic; zo here goes." Pete gave the bright hook a swing and cast it half-a-dozen yards from the boat to where it fell with a splash, which was followed by a curious movement of the amber-hued water; and then he began to snatch with the line, so as to make the bright iron play about. Then there was a sudden check. "Back water, Master Nic," cried Pete. "I'm fast in zomething." "Yes," said Nic, obeying his order; "you're caught in a sunken tree. Mind, or you'll break your line." "That's what I'm feared on, Master Nic, but it's 'bout the liveliest tree I ever felt. Look where the line's going. I'm feared it's gone." The line was cutting the water and gliding through Pete's fingers till he checked it at the end, when a black tail rose above the surface and fell with a splash, and the line slackened and was hauled in. "Hook aren't gone, zir," said Pete as he drew it over the side. "Rum vishing that there. Why, it were one o' them 'gators, five or six foot long. Let's try lower down." They tried as Pete suggested, and there was another boil in the water, but the hook was drawn in without a touch; and Pete tried again and again, till he felt the glistening iron seized by something which held on fast. "Got him this time, zir," said Pete, with his face lighting up. "It's a vish now. One o' they pike things, and not zo very big." "Haul in quick," cried Nic. It was an unnecessary order, for the line was rapidly drawn close inboard, and Pete lowered one hand to take a short grip and swing his captive out of the water. But he put too much vigour into the effort, and flung his prize right over just as it shook itself clear of the hook, and fell upon the gunwale before glancing off back into the water. No fish, but an alligator about thirty inches long. "Ugh!" ejaculated Pete; "and I thought I'd got a vish. Never mind, Master Nic. We'll have zomething good yet." His companion did not feel hopeful. It was evident that the water swarmed with the reptiles, and in spite of the terribly faint sensation of hunger that was increasing fast, Nic felt disposed to tell his companion to give up trying, when suddenly there was a fierce rush after the glistening hook as it was being dragged through the water, a sudden check, and the water boiled again as Pete hauled in the line, sea fishing fashion, to get his captive into the boat before it could struggle free from the clumsy hook. This time success attended Pete's efforts. He got hold of the line close to the iron, and with a vigorous swing threw his prize into the boat just as the hook came away, leaving the fish to begin leaping about, till Nic stunned it with a heavy blow from the boat-hook pole. "I knowed we should do it, Master Nic," said Pete triumphantly. "There now, aren't it zummat like one of our big pike at home? Now, that's good to eat; and the next game's tie up to the zhore where there's some dry wood, and we'll light a fire." "Yes," said Nic as he bent over their prize. "I suppose it's what they call the alligator-gar, Pete." "Dessay it is, zir; but I don't care what they calls it--Ah, would you?" cried Pete, stamping his bare foot upon the great fish as it made a leap to escape. Nic too was on the alert, and he thrust the ragged head of the pole between the teeth-armed, gaping jaws, which closed upon it fiercely and held on. But Pete's knife was out next moment, and a well-directed cut put the savage creature beyond the power to do mischief. "A twenty-pounder, Master Nic. Wish it were one o' your zalmon. There, I'll zoon clean him, while you run the boat in at a good place." "But how are we to get a fire, Pete?" said Nic anxiously, for an intense feeling of hunger now set in. "I'll zoon show you that, lad," replied Pete; and he did. In a very short time after, by means of a little flint he carried in company with his pocket-knife, the back of the blade, and some dry touchwood from a rotting tree, he soon had a fire glowing, then blazing, for there was dead-wood enough to make campfires for an army. Another quarter of an hour passed, and the big fish was hissing and spluttering on a wooden spit over the glowing embers; and at last they were able to fall to and eat of the whitest, juiciest flesh--as it seemed to them--that they had ever tasted. "Bit o' zalt'd be worth anything now, Master Nic, and I wouldn't turn up my nose at a good thick bit o' bread and butter, and a drop o' zyder'd be better than river water; but, take it all together, I zay as zalmon's nothing to this here, and we've got enough to last uz for a couple or three days to come." "Now for a few big leaves to wrap the rest in," said Nic at last, after they had thoroughly satisfied their hunger. "Right, Master Nic; but I must have a good drink o' water first." "Yes," said Nic, suddenly awakening to the fact that he was extremely thirsty, and he rose to his feet to utter a cry of horror. "Pete--Pete! The boat! the boat!" Pete leaped up and stared aghast, for the action of the running stream had loosened the thin remnants of the rope with which they had moored their boat. These had parted, and the craft was gliding rapidly away, a quarter of a mile down the river. _ |
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