"Well?" he said.
"I was thinking about the house and garden, the furniture and books, and
all our treasures."
"Doomed, I'm afraid, George," he said with a sigh. "We must think about
saving our lives. We can build up the house again."
"Build it up again, father?"
"Yes, if it is burnt, and replace our books; but we cannot restore life,
my boy. Besides, all these things that we shall lose are not worth
grieving over. There, I think we have waited long enough now to give
them time, and we are near the landing-place. Pull steadily now, boy,
right for the posts."
Pomp obeyed, and the boat glided on, swept round a wooded point, and the
landing-place with its overhanging trees was in sight.
"Are they there?" said my father, sharply.
"I can't see them, father."
A sharp stamp with his foot on the thwart of the boat told of the
excitement he felt, and made me realise more than ever the peril we were
in.
"Pull, boy--pull!" he said.
I sat down in front of Pomp, laid my gun across the thwarts, and placing
my hands on the oars, helped with a good thrust at every tug, sending
the boat well along, so that in a couple of minutes more we were at the
landing-place, where I leaped out, and secured the boat by passing the
rope through a ring-bolt.
"Don't fasten it tightly," said my father; "leave it so that you can
slip it at a moment's notice. No, no, boy, sit still ready to row."
Pomp, who was about to spring out, plumped down again, his brow wrinkled
up, and his twinkling dark eyes watching my father, of whom he stood in
terrible awe.
"They ought to have been here; they ought to have been here," said my
father, unfastening the other boat, and making a loop of the rope that
could be just hung over one of the posts, besides bringing the boat
close in.
"I cannot go, George," he said sharply. "This is our only means of
escape, and it would be like throwing it away: they ought to have been
here."
"Pomp hear um come," cried the boy eagerly; and we both listened, but
for a few moments I could make out nothing.
Then as my father was eagerly scanning the edge of the river, gun in
hand, on the look-out for the first approach of the Indians, I heard
_plod_--_plod_--_plod_--_plod_, and directly after Morgan came into
sight laden with the guns and ammunition, followed by Hannibal with a
box on his shoulder; and lastly there was Sarah, red-faced and panting,
as she bore a large white bundle that looked like a feather-bed tied up
in a sheet.
"What madness!" cried my father, angrily stamping his foot. "Quick,
Morgan! Quick!"
Morgan broke into a trot, and soon reached us, rapidly placed his load
in the boat, and took up one of the pieces.
"How could you waste time by letting that woman come loaded in this
ridiculous way?"
"She would bring them, sir; she wouldn't come without."
"No," said Sarah, who came up completely breathless, "I wasn't going
to."
"Into the boat," cried my father, "if you value your life!"
Hannibal was already in with his box, and my father tried to drag the
bundle from Sarah, but she held on with such tenacity that she was
forced in bundle and all.
Hannibal placed the huge white sphere in the stern, where it rose up
high and projected far over the sides. Then, in obedience to my
father's orders, he seized the oars and sat down.
"Quick, Morgan!" said my father; "be ready to fire steadily as you can
if I give the order. Stop!" he cried quickly, as a sudden thought
struck him; "pass that box into this boat. There, across the stern, as
you have placed that bundle."
The boats were drawn together, and the transfer was made, while my hands
grew wet with perspiration as I scanned the edge of the forest, fancying
I could hear the breaking and rustling of twigs and leaves.
"Here dey come," said Pomp, huskily, just as my father exclaimed, "Cast
off!" and the boats were thrust out into the stream.
It was only just in time, for as our boat was being thrust away with the
oar there was a fierce yell, and a score of savages rushed out of the
edge of the forest, ran rapidly over the bushy ground between, and the
two first sprang into the shallow water, one of them seizing an oar, the
other coming further out, and catching at the boat's side with one hand,
striking at my father with an axe at the same time.
I felt as if the blow had struck me, so keen was the agony I endured;
but relief came on the instant, for the axe edge was warded off by the
barrel of the piece my father held, and before the savage could strike
again he received the butt of the piece full in his forehead, and
dropped back into the water.
Meanwhile the other savage was trying to tear the oar from Pomp's grasp,
and he would have succeeded had not the boy drawn the knife he had stuck
in his waist, and given the Indian quickly a sharp cut across the hands,
making him yell and loosen his hold.
The others were so near that we must have been captured had it not been
for the sharp stream which had caught the boat, and was bearing us away.
In the second boat another struggle had taken place, three of the
Indians, as I saw at my second glance, making for it; but they fared no
better than their companions. Hannibal had already pushed off, and was
standing up with one oar in his hand. This he swept round as if it were
a huge two-handed sword, and one Indian went down at once; the second
caught and clung to the oar, and he too struck at Hannibal with his axe;
but the great black caught the handle, gave it a wrench round, tore it
from the man's grasp, and I closed my eyes for a moment as I saw what
was about to follow. When I opened them again the Indian was floating
in the river, and a companion was drawing him to land, while another was
helping the Indian who had attacked Morgan, and was struck down by a
blow with the gun-barrel.
The boats were now moving fast, and as I saw the Indians all there
bending their bows, my father shouted "Fire!" Our three pieces went off
nearly simultaneously with a tremendous roar, and when the smoke rose I
saw three men on the ground by our landing-place, and the others in full
flight for the forest. I stared at these three in horror, when, to my
surprise, they leaped up and ran after their companions. But three
others lay where their comrades had dragged them half drowned, and
stunned by the blows they had received. Those who got up and ran were
no doubt knocked down by their companions in their flight and dismay,
for I do not think our fire did them any harm. But I was brought to
myself by a sharp command to reload.
"Quick! Crouch down!" said my father; and as he spoke a shower of
arrows whistled by, fortunately without doing hurt. "Morgan," continued
my father, "make a breastwork of that bundle; it will protect you.
Hannibal, row straight out, so as to get that bundle between you and the
enemy."
The great black's response was a pull or two with one oar, while, in
obedience to my father's instructions, Pomp did the same; and I now saw
the good of the box placed across the stern, behind which we two
sheltered, and kept up as rapid a fire as we could, doing but little
harm, for the Indians were well sheltered among the trees, and rarely
showed more than a hand and arm with one side of the face, the rest of
the body being always hidden behind the trunk of some great tree. But
our shots did good to this extent, for whenever the enemy made a
determined rush, as if to reach a spot opposite to where the boats
glided down stream, a little volley invariably sent them back to cover.
Still by darting from tree to tree, or crawling under the thick bushes,
they kept close in our wake, and poor Sarah's encumbrances proved
invaluable, the box and huge bundle forming excellent shelter, from
behind which we could fire, saving the woman too as she lay right in the
bottom of the boat; for the arrows came fast--_whizz, whizz, whizz_, now
sticking in the box with a hollow sounding rap, or into the big bundle
in the other boat with a dull, thudding sound, till both box and bundle
actually bristled with the missiles.
"Keep your head down, my boy," my father kept saying to me. "Only look
up when you are going to fire."
This was good advice, but I did not see that he took it to himself, and
I kept feeling a curious shrinking sensation as some better-aimed arrow
than usual struck the box close to his head.
And so we went slowly on, my father dividing his time between loading,
firing, and directing Pomp and Hannibal how to row, so as to keep the
boats one behind the other, and diagonally across the stream, so that
our sheltering defences might be presented square to the enemy, who
followed us along the bank.
I'm afraid--and yet I do not know that I ought to speak like that of a
set of savages who were thirsting for our blood--several of the Indians
went down severely wounded, not from my firing, but from that of Morgan,
for I saw them stagger and fall three times over after his shots. What
happened after my father's I could not see, for we were close together,
and the smoke obscured everything.
For fully ten minutes this duel between lead and arrow went on, but no
one on our side was hurt, though we had some very narrow escapes. I
felt one arrow give quite a twitch at my hair as it passed close to my
temple, and another went through my father's hat. In the other boat too
Morgan kept answering to our inquiries, and telling us that all was
right, only that some of the arrows had come, as he termed it, "precious
nigh, look you."
"We shall not shake them off," said my father, "till we reach the mouth
and get into the big river, when I hope our firing will be heard and put
them on their guard at the settlement. So don't spare your shots when
we get well out. They will be doing double duty--scaring the enemy and
warning our friends. That's right, Pompey, my lad, pull steadily."
"Iss, massa, pull berry 'tead'ly," said the boy, grinning.
"As soon as we get a little farther we will relieve you, my lad; and
then, George," he said, turning to me, "we must row hard for the
settlement, unless," he added, sadly, "the enemy are before us, and
then--Hah!"
I started at the moment when my father uttered that ejaculation, for an
arrow dropped between us, and stuck quivering in the thwart, standing
nearly upright, as if it had fallen from the clouds.
"They have altered their tactics," said my father. "Look there."
Another arrow fell with a faint _plop_ into the river close to the edge
of the boat. "They find our breastwork too much for them," said my
father; "and they are shooting up right over us, so as to try and hit us
that way."
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" came in wild yells of pain from Pomp, as I heard a dull
thud just behind me; and turning sharply, there was the boy dancing
about in his agony, and tugging to free his hand from an arrow which had
fallen and gone right through, pinning it to one of the oars.
"Stop! Don't struggle, boy," cried my father, laying his gun across the
box.
"But um hurt dreffle, massa. Oh, Mass' George, lookye here--lookye
dah."
The boat was drifting now, and turning slowly side on to the shore, when
my father made a sign, and I left my gun lying across the box and crept
into Pomp's place, while my father seized the boy's hand, held it
tightly, detached the arrow with a tug from where it stuck in the oar,
and then as I began to row he pulled Pomp down into the bottom of the
boat, the boy sobbing with the pain.
_Whizz_! An arrow made me duck my head, and I don't know how I looked,
but I felt as if I must have turned pale.
"Pull your right, George; pull your right," said my father, coolly.
"Now, Pomp, my boy, let me look. Come, be a man."
My father took his hand, and the boy jumped and uttered a cry of pain,
but he evidently mastered himself, and rising to his knees, he resigned
himself to my father, but doubled his other fist and shook it in the
direction of the shore as he shouted fiercely--
"Ah, you wait bit, great big coward--great big ugly Injum tief. You
wait bit--Pomp and um fader get hold you, gib you de 'tick. Hab you
flog--hab you--Oh! Oh, Mass' Capen, done, done," he cried piteously,
changing his tone and appealing to my father, as he saw him take out and
open his great gardening knife, which was as sharp as a razor.
"Be quiet," said my father; "I will not hurt you much."
"No, no," whimpered Pomp. "Mass' George, ask massa not cut arm off.
Cut off lil toe, Massa Capen; cut off um foot. What poor lil nigger do
wif ony one arm?"
"Be quiet, you cowardly little rascal," said my father, smiling, as with
one sharp cut he took off the head of the arrow, and then easily drew
the shaft back from where it had passed right through Pomp's black hand.
As soon as he saw the arrow-head cut off, and understood what my father
meant, Pomp knelt there as coolly as could be.
"Hurt much?" said my father, pressing his finger and thumb on the wound
at the back and palm of the boy's hand.
"Um tickle, sah: dat all. Pomp tought you cut um arm off. Hi! You
dah," he shouted excitedly; "you wait till Pomp get lil bit of rag round
um hand, you see how I serb you. Yah! You big coward Injum tief."
My father rapidly drew his handkerchief from his pocket, tore a piece
off, divided it in two, and making the two pieces into little pads,
applied one each to the back and front of the boy's hand before binding
them securely there.
As soon as this was done, Pomp looked up at him with his eyes sparkling
and showing his teeth.
"Pomp not mind a bit," he said. "Here, Mass' George, come here an'
shoot um. Let Pomp hab de oars."
"No," said my father. "Sit down there in the bottom of the boat. Hah!"
He seized his gun and fired; then caught up mine, waited till the smoke
had risen a little, and fired again, a shot coming almost at the same
moment from the other boat.
It was quite time, for the Indians, encouraged by the cessation of the
firing, and seeing that some one was wounded, were coming on well
abreast of us. But the first shot warned them, and the two which
followed sent them once more back under cover, leaving one of their
number, to Pomp's great delight, motionless among the canes.
"Ha, ha!" he laughed; "you cotch it dis time, sah. How you like feel de
shot, eh? You no 'tick arrow froo poor lil nigger hand again, you no--
Oh, Mass' George, look dah!"
For the prostrate man suddenly rolled over, half rose, darted amongst
the canes, and we could see by his movements that he was rapidly getting
ahead. Then another and another darted to him, and to our misery we saw
that they were making for a wooded point a couple of hundred yards
ahead.
"Mean to take us between two fires," said my father, who was coolly
reloading, in spite of the arrows which kept on dropping down in and
about the boat as the Indians sent them right up in the air.
"Morgan!" shouted my father.
"Yes, sir."
"Turn your fire in the other direction, and drive those fellows out of
that clump of trees on the point."
"Yes, sir."
The next minute there was a sharp report, and then another.
"That's right, boy," said my father to Pomp, who was eagerly watching
him reloading, and handing the ammunition. "Why, George--Ah, that arrow
was near; did it hurt you?"
"Only scratched me, father," I said, as I winced a little, for one of
the Indians' missiles had fallen, ploughed my leg a little, and pinned
the fold of my breeches to the thwart on which I sat.
Pomp crept to my side and pulled out the arrow, examining the hole in
the thwart, and saying merrily--
"I no 'tink you want lil bit rag round you, sah."
"No, Pomp; go back and help to load."
_Bang_--_bang_! Was heard again from the foremost boat; but arrows came
now fast from the wooded point we were approaching.
"How does Morgan manage to load so quickly?" said my father, who kept on
talking calmly, as I believe now to encourage us.
"I think Morgan is--I mean I think Sarah is loading for him," I replied,
rather confusedly, as the trees and the wooded bank began to grow misty
and dim.
"Ah, very likely. Great--"
The one word came in a very different tone of voice, as a wild shriek
rang out from the foremost boat, followed by a momentary silence.
"What is it?" said my father, sternly.
His demand was almost accompanied by a couple more shots in close
succession.
"One down, sir," said Morgan, coolly; but his voice sounded to me
distant and strange.
"Pull hard, George, my lad--your right. We must give that point as wide
a berth as we can."
I obeyed as well as I could, and half wondered at the singing noise in
my ears.
_Bang_! Came from the foremost boat, and I seemed to know that Morgan
had no one to load for him now, and that poor Sarah had uttered that
shriek we had heard. Then I saw that my father was resting his gun on
the foremost part of the boat, and he too fired at the woody point, from
which arrow after arrow came in quick succession.
And still I rowed hard, with the perspiration streaming down to soak me.
_Whizz_--_thud_--_whizz_--_whizz_, and an angry ejaculation from my
father; I did not know why, nor yet why Pomp uttered a shrill
ejaculation, for I was pulling with all my might like one in a dream. I
felt once as if I should like to look back and see how near we were to
the point that I knew must be close at hand; but everything was getting
dark, and a horrible sensation of sickness was coming on. Then the
sharp report of my father's piece made me start and pull harder, as I
thought, and I tried to look toward the shore, where a wild yelling had
arisen; but Pomp's words uttered close to me took my attention, and in a
dreamy way I supposed that another Indian had been killed.