Very little was said for some time, every one being glad of the calm and
silence, and drawing in the genial warmth which was delicious to our
cramped and thoroughly weary limbs.
And as I sat there, gazing out over the waters at what seemed to be a
vast lake, it did not appear like a scene of desolation, for the
sunbeams danced on the rippled water, or turned it to a glittering
mirror, where it flowed calm and still; the trees stood out at intervals
all green and beautiful; and the forest beyond the clearings, though
dwarfed, was unchanged. Now and then a fish flashed out like a bar of
silver, and the birds twittered, piped, and sang as if nothing had
happened. It was only the poor human beings who were helpless, and
beginning to feel, now that the excitement had passed, the pangs of a
trouble that it was impossible to meet.
One of my first acts, as soon as I began to grow dry and warm, was to
take my knife from my pocket and cut a notch in the tree just on a level
with the water.
Pomp looked at me and then shook his head.
"No," he said; "no, Mass' George, no get sug gum dah, an' Pomp dreffle
hungry."
"I know that," I said, rather surlily, for my notch was not meant for
the purpose he thought, and I knew the difference between a cypress and
a sugar maple.
"Den what for cut um tree?"
"To see whether the water is rising or going down."
"Not do nuffum," said the boy, eagerly. "'Top so."
"Yes, he is right," said my father, who had been higher up the tree,
trying to get a glimpse in the direction of the settlement, in the hope
of help in the shape of a boat being on the way. "The flood seems to
have reached its highest point, and we may begin to hope that it will go
down now."
But the hours glided by and there was no help, and no sign of the flood
sinking. Pomp was quite right; it did "'top so," and we began to suffer
keenly from hunger.
We had long got well warm in the sunshine, and the thirst we felt was
easily assuaged, though there was very little temptation to partake of
the turbid water; but our sensations of hunger grew apace, and I saw
that while we white people sat there about the fork of the tree, trying
to bear our sufferings stoically, both the blacks were in constant
movement, and they had always something to say, Hannibal confining his
remarks however to his son.
"Look, look!" cried Pomp, excitedly; "dah um fis. No got hookum line,
no got net."
He shook his head despondently, evidently quite oblivious of the fact
that even with hook and line he had no bait, and that it was impossible
to use a net.
Then he was off up the tree, first ascending one great bough and then
another, to lean out, staring away between the twigs in search of
something, but he always came down again looking quite disconsolate.
"What have you been looking for?" I said on one of these occasions.
"Simmon tree, Mass' George. No see one nowhere 'bout."
"But you couldn't get there if you could see them."
"No get um?" he said with a laugh. "Pomp no get um? Wait a bit."
"Why, how could you manage?"
"No manage 'tall. 'Wim dah, and 'wim back."
Then we scanned the waste of waters in the hope that we might see
something, even if it was only some drowned animal, but nothing came in
sight till well on in the afternoon, when Hannibal made some remark
which sent Pompey into a tremendous state of excitement.
"What is it?" I cried, eagerly rising from where I had been down to
examine my notch, to find that the water remained nearly unchanged.
"Pomp and um fader see some fis' good to eat," said the boy. "Come
see."
I climbed up to where he was, and he pointed; but for some time I could
make out nothing but driftwood, a tree floating roots upward, and some
great patches of grass that seemed to have been scooped out of a bank,
roots and all.
"I can't see anything," I said at last.
"What, not dah?" cried Pomp.
"No."
"All 'long side dat tree?"
"Oh, yes," I cried; "what is it--a big fish?"
"No; dat nice lil 'gator, sah."
"What? Why, we couldn't eat alligator."
"Oh, yes; eat um, got nuffum else," cried Pomp, to my great disgust.
"But even if you would eat the nasty wretch, you can't catch it."
"No," said Pomp. "Tell um fader can't catch. Pomp wish dat, but lil
'gator, see um come on, cock um tail up and go right to de bottom. Oh,
oh, Mass' George, I so dreffle hungry. Feel as if um eatum own fader."
There was something so comic in the poor fellow's trouble that I could
not forbear smiling as I went along to where Morgan was seated quietly
enough by Sarah, and I felt something like anger and disgust as I saw
that the former was eating something.
"Oh, Morgan!" I said, sharply; "if I had had something to eat I would
have shared it."
"Isn't much, but you shall have some if you like, sir. Sarah here won't
touch it."
He took a flat brass box out of his pocket, opened it, and held it to
me.
"Tobacco!" I said, looking with disgust at the black, twisted leaf.
"Yes, sir, 'bacco keeps off the hunger."
"I'd rather have the hunger," I said; and he shut the box with a snap.
Restless as Pomp now, and growing more and more miserable, I climbed to
where my father was sitting watching one break among the trees in the
direction of the settlement, and he turned to me with a smile.
"Tired and hungry?" he said. "Yes, I know. But patience, my boy,
patience. Our lives have been spared, and help may come at any moment."
"But do you think we shall escape?"
"Why not?" he said, calmly. "We were in much greater peril last night."
"Yes, father," I said; "but we weren't half so hungry."
My remark brought the first smile I had seen to his lip for hours.
"Yes, yes; I know," he said; "but patience. I think we shall soon see
the water begin to fall, for when I was at the settlement yesterday, the
tide was turning and going down about this time. If it does not take
with it the inundation, we must divide ourselves into two parties, one
to sit and watch while the other sleeps. By to-morrow the flood will
either have fallen, or help will have come."
"Sleep, father!" I said, dolefully; "who can sleep at a time like
this?"
"All of us, I hope," he said. "We shall easily drop off after our past
night's watch."
"But who could go to sleep feeling so hungry as this?" I protested.
"You," he said, smiling; "and recollect the French proverb, _Qui dort
dine_. You know what that means."
"No, father," I said, dolefully.
"Shame! You should not forget your French. He who sleeps dines, my
boy."
"Perhaps that's so in France, father, but it isn't so here, in the midst
of a flood, and I don't think any Frenchman would say so if he were up
in this tree like we are now."
I climbed down again to look at the notch I had made, and see if there
was any difference, then sent up a shout of delight, for the water had
sunk a foot, and was going down so rapidly that I could almost trace its
descent.
It was as my father had hoped; the flood was running out with the tide;
and as the cause was over we had every prospect of being set at liberty
before many hours had passed.
It was the apparent certainty of this hope which enabled us to bear
patiently the rest of our imprisonment, and the pangs of hunger. For
night came with the water still falling; but the fact was plainly before
us--we should have to pass one night in the tree.
I looked forward to the long, dreary hours with horror, but after
getting astride of one branch, and putting my arms round another,
feeling half ready to groan with misery, the present dropped away all at
once, and I was conscious of nothing till the sun was brightly shining
again, when I awoke to find that my wrists were tightly bound together
on the other side of the great bough I had embraced; and on recovering
my senses sufficiently to look down, I saw that the water had not all
drained away, there being several feet in the lower part of the
clearings, but the house was so nearly standing out clear that there
could not have been more than a couple of feet in depth on the floor.
Morgan and Hannibal were already down, wading breast-high towards the
house; and as my father set free my hands, we prepared to follow.
It was no easy task, for the branches were far apart, and covered with
slimy mud, but we descended cautiously, promising to come back with
ropes to lower poor Sarah and Pomp.
The latter looked gloomy and discontented on being told that he was to
stay and keep Sarah company; but he proceeded to walk along to her as we
lowered ourselves down, and then contrived to be first, for his bare
feet slipped on the muddy bough, and he went headlong down splash into
five feet of water and mud, to rise again looking the most pitiable
object imaginable.
"Pomp come up again?" he asked, dolefully.
"No; go and have a good wash," said my father, and as the boy went off
swimming and wading, we two descended into the thin mud and water, and
made our way toward the house.
I looked up at my father to see what he would say to the desolation, as
I saw the change that had taken place in so short a time, and then,
miserably weak and half-hysterical as I was--perhaps that was the
cause--I burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. For Pomp had
come close up behind us, after an expedition to the hut that had been
made for his home, and his sharp voice rose suddenly just in the midst
of our sad thoughts, with--
"Oh! Here a mess!"
Even my father could not help laughing as he looked at the boy.
But there was nothing humorous in the scene to Pomp, who looked up at my
father with his brow knit, and continued--
"Place all gone--wash away, and can't find my tick."
"The hut washed away?" asked my father.
"Iss; all agone."
"Never mind! We must build another. Well, Morgan, can you find
anything to eat?"
For Morgan had just waded out of the house again with a basket in his
hand, and he hastened to open it and produce a couple of roast fowls and
a couple of loaves of bread, the latter all swollen up into a great sop,
while the former were covered with a thin coating of mud.
"Quick!" said my father, seizing one of the fowls and cutting it in two;
"get a rope from the shed, and the little ladder. Take this to your
wife at once. No; stop a minute. Here, you go, George; there is some
wine in the cupboard."
I went splashing through the door, and fetched the bottle, for I knew
exactly where it stood; and on my return this was given to Morgan, who
was sent at once to the tree, while we four stood there in the water
eating the remains of the fowls ravenously, both Hannibal and Pomp
evidently enjoying the well-soaked bread, which was not bad to one so
hungry as I, after I had cut away the muddy outside.
"Yes," said my father, smiling at Pomp, after we had relieved the
terrible cravings of hunger from which we had suffered; "it is a mess.
But look, George, the water is still sinking fast."
That was plain enough to see now, and as it went lower and lower, the
damage done, though of course great, was not what might have been
expected. We had been saved from utter destruction by the fact that
only a moderate-sized clearing had been made in the virgin forest, whose
mighty trunks had formed a natural fence round our house, and checked
the rush of the flood, which, instead of reaching us in an overwhelming
wave, had been broken up, and its force destroyed before it could reach
us.
Even the open fences about the garden had escaped, the water having
played freely in and out; and though Hannibal's hut had been lifted up
and floated right away, the fence-top was now appearing above the water,
and seemed to be quite unharmed.
The water sank so fast now that my father shouted to Morgan to let Sarah
stay where she was till there was solid earth for her to descend to, and
consequently he came down to see what he could do to help. That
amounted to nothing, for until the water had passed away nothing could
be done, save splash here and there, looking at the fruit-trees
bestrewed with moss and muddy reeds and grass, while Morgan uttered
groan after groan, as he at last saw the bushes and the tops of his
vegetables appear covered with slime.
"The place is ruined, sir," he groaned. "Whatever is to be done? Go
back to the old country?"
"Get to work as soon as the place is dry," replied my father. "A few
showers of rain after the sun has dried and cracked the mud will soon
wash your garden clean."
Morgan shook his head. "And I don't know what my poor wife will say to
her kitchen."
"Ah, now you are touching upon the more serious part, my man," said my
father. "Come, Morgan, you and I have got the better of worse troubles
than this, so set to work, and by some means contrive to get fires going
in each of the rooms."
"With wet wood," said Morgan, grumpily.
"Why, it's only wet outside," I cried. "Here, Pomp, try and find the
little chopper. Know where it is?"
"Ise know where chopper, but de hut all gone away."
The wood-shed was standing though, and before very long, with Hannibal's
help, a good basketful of dry wood was cut; and after a long struggle
and several dryings in the hot sun, the tinder and matches acted, and
big fires were blazing in the house, whose floors were now only covered
with mud.
Already the thatch and shingle roof had ceased to drip, and was rapidly
drying, while by midday Sarah was busy at work with brush and pail
cleansing the floors, and keeping the two blacks and myself busy
bringing things out to dry, while Morgan was removing mud from the
various objects within the house.
The main difficulty we had to encounter was how to find a dry
resting-place for the night. Sheets and blankets promised to be quite
fit for use by sundown, but the question was where to lay them. Every
one naturally objected to the trees, and the ridge of the roof was no
more inviting than on the first night. But a little ingenuity soon put
all right. Timber was so plentiful with us that poles and planks lay
piled up at the back of the house, and after a number of these had been
hunted up, from where they had floated among the trees, and laid in the
full sunshine, a platform was built up high above the muddy earth, and
then another upon which pine boughs were laid, and good, dry
resting-places contrived for our weary bones.