The spectator in the tree began to fancy that he was dreaming. Within
the short space of twenty minutes he had been the witness of a greater
number of exciting events than he might have seen, in his own land,
during the same number of years!
And yet he had not witnessed the _finale_ of the drama. The gestures of
the runaway, and the speeches of his captor, had already warned him that
there was another act to come; and, from the attitudes of both, it was
evident that this act would be performed on the same stage, without any
change of scene.
As yet the young Englishman saw no particular reason why he should cease
to be a spectator, and become an actor, in this West Indian drama. That
the yellow hunter should kill a wild boar, capture a runaway slave, and
afterwards shield both his captive and himself from a brace of
bloodhounds, by killing the fierce brutes, was no affair of his. The
only thine: that concerned him was the unceremonious use that had been
made of his fowling-piece; but it is scarce necessary to say that
Herbert Vaughan, had he been asked, would have freely lent the piece for
such a purpose.
Nothing, however, had yet transpired to tempt him from a strict
neutrality; and, until something should, he determined to preserve the
passive attitude he had hitherto held.
Scarce had he come to this determination, when three new actors appeared
upon the scene.
One, the foremost, and apparently the leader, was a tall, black-bearded
man in a red plush waistcoat, and high-topped horse-skin boots. The
other two were lean, lithe-looking fellows in striped shirt and
trousers, each wearing broad-brimmed palm-leaf hats that shadowed their
sharp Spanish physiognomies.
The bearded man was armed with gun and pistols. The others appeared to
be without firearms of any kind; but each carried in his hand a long
rapier-like blade, the sheath of which hung dangling from his hip. It
was the _machete_--the same kind of weapon as that which the yellow
hunter had but the moment before so skilfully wielded.
On perceiving the tableau under the tree, the three new comers halted--
and with no slight surprise depicted in their looks. The men of Spanish
face appeared more especially astonished--indignation mingling with
their surprise--when they beheld in that grouping of figures the bodies
of their own bloodhounds stretched dead upon the sward!
The bearded man, who, as we have said, appeared to be the leader, was
the first to give speech to the sentiment that animated all three.
"What game's this?" he cried, his face turning purple with rage. "Who
are you that has dared to interfere with our pursuit?"
"_Carajo_! he's killed our dogs?" vociferated one of the Spaniards.
"_Demonios_! you'll pay for this with your lives!" added the other,
raising his _machete_ in menace.
"And what if I have killed your dogs?" rejoined the yellow hunter, with
an air of _sang froid_, which won the silent applause of the spectator.
"What if I have? If I had not killed _them_, they would have killed
_me_!"
"No," said one of the Spaniards; "they would not have touched you.
_Carrambo_! they were too well trained for that--they were after _him_.
Why did you put yourself in the way to protect him? It's no business of
yours."
"There, my worthy friend, you are mistaken," replied he in the _toque_,
with a significant sneer. "It _is_ my business to protect him--my
_interest_ too: since he is my captive."
"_Your_ captive!" exclaimed one of the men, with a glance of concern.
"Certainly, he is my captive; and it was my interest not to let the dogs
destroy him. Dead, I should only have got two pounds currency for his
head. Living, he is worth twice that, and mileage money to boot; though
I'm sorry to see by the `J.J.' on his breast that the mileage money
won't amount to much. Now, what more have you to say, my worthy
gentlemen?"
"Only this," cried the man with the black beard; "that we listen to no
such nonsense as that there. Whoever you may be, I don't care. I
suspect who you are; but that don't hinder me from telling you, you've
no business to meddle in this affair. This runaway slave belongs to
Jacob Jessuron. I'm his overseer. He's been taken on Jessuron's own
ground: therefore you can't claim the captive, nor yet the bounty. So
you'll have to give him up to _us_."
"_Carrambo, si_!" vociferated both the Spaniards in a breath, at the
same time that the three advanced towards the runaway--the bearded
overseer pistol in hand, and his two comrades with their _machetes_
drawn, and ready to be used.
"Come on, then!" cried the hunter, in a taunting tone--as he spoke
making signs to the runaway to stand to his defence. "Come on! but,
remember! the first that lays hand upon him is a dead man. There are
three of you, and we are but two--one already half-dead with your
inhuman cruelty."
"Three against two! that's not a fair fight!" cried the young
Englishman, dropping down from the tree, and ranging himself on the
weaker side. "Perhaps it'll be a better match now," added he, taking a
pistol from under the breast of his coat, and cocking it as he did so--
evidently with the intention of using it, should the affair be carried
further.
"And who are you, sir?" demanded the overseer, with as much arrogance as
he could throw into his manner. "Who, sir, may I inquire, is the white
man who thus places himself in opposition to the laws of the island?
You know the penalty, sir; and by _my_ word, you shall pay it!"
"If I have committed a breach of the laws," replied Herbert, "I presume
I shall have to answer for it. But I have yet to learn what law I have
broken; and I don't choose that you shall be my judge."
"You are aiding in the escape of a slave!"
"That's not true," interrupted the yellow hunter. "The slave is already
captured; he could not have escaped; and this young gentleman--who is as
much a stranger to me as to you--I am sure, had no intention of
assisting him to escape."
"Bah!" exclaimed the overseer; "we care not for your talk--we deny your
right to capture him; and you had no business to interfere. We had
already tracked him down with the dogs; and should have had him without
any help from you. He is _our_ prize, therefore; and I again demand of
you to give him up!"
"Indeed!" sneeringly responded the yellow hunter.
"I make the demand," continued the other, without noticing the sneer,
"in the name of Jacob Jessuron--whose overseer I've told you I am."
"Perhaps, were you Jacob Jessuron himself, I might resist your demand,"
rejoined the hunter, coolly, and without any appearance of braggadocio.
"You refuse to surrender him, then?" said the overseer, as if making his
final overture.
"I do," was the firm reply.
"Enough--you shall repent this; and you, sir," continued the deputy of
Jessuron, turning a fierce look upon Herbert, "you shall answer before a
magistrate for the part it has pleased you to play in this transaction.
A pretty white man you for the island of Jamaica! A few more of your
sort, and we'd have a nice time with our niggers. Don't fear, mister;
you'll see me again."
"I have no particular desire," rejoined Herbert; "for, certainly,"
continued he, with provoking jocularity, "an uglier-looking face than
yours I have never set eyes upon; and it could be no pleasure to me to
look upon it again."
"Confusion!" cried the overseer. "You'll repent that insult before
you're a month older--curse me if you don't!"
And with this characteristic menace, the ruffian turned and walked
sullenly away.
"_Caspita_!" cried one of the Spaniards, as the two hastened to follow
their leader. "My brave dogs! Ah, _demonio_! you shall pay dearly for
them. Two hundred _pesos_ each--not a _cuartito_ less!"
"Not a _cuartito_ for either!" responded the yellow hunter, with a
mocking laugh. "Haven't I proved that they are not worth it? With all
your boasting of what your bloodhounds could do, look at them now.
_Vaya_! my fine fellows! Go back to your own country, and hunt runaway
negroes there. Here you must leave that game to those who know how to
manage it--_the Maroons_!"
Herbert observed that the hunter, on pronouncing these last words, drew
himself up with an air of majestic pride--as he did so, glancing
scornfully towards the crestfallen _cacadores_.
An angry "_Carrai_!" simultaneously hissed from the lips of both, was
the only reply made by the two Spaniards; who, at the same instant,
turned their backs upon the _ceiba_, and followed their leader across
the glade.
Volume One, Chapter XXVII.