CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

Certainly there was a body of our defenders five-and-twenty yards away

in one direction, and sixty in another; but while the alarm was

spreading a dozen active Indians would be able to scale the fence.

At least so it seemed to me, as without hesitation I uttered a wild cry

for help, Pomp raising his voice to supplement mine.

"Here! This way! Here! Indians!" I shouted; and I heard the sound of

hurrying feet, and a sharp decisive order or two being given; but at the

same moment there was a peculiar scraping sound on the rough fence which

told me that the Indians were climbing over, and I stood hesitating,

puzzled as to whether it was my duty to run or stop where I was, so as

to keep up the alarm and guide our people through the darkness to the

exact spot.

All this was a matter of moments, and I hesitated too long. I was

conscious of our people being close at hand; then of feeling Pomp

dragging at me, and saying something excitedly. Then it was as if a big

mass had fallen from above, and I lay crushed down and senseless in a

darkness far greater than that of the night.

When I came to my senses again, I found that I was lying on my face with

something heavy across me, from beneath which I managed to creep at

last, shuddering the while, as I felt that it was the body of a dead or

wounded man. Everything about me was still, but I could hear voices at

a distance, and I wondered what had taken place, and why I was left

there like that.

It was very puzzling, for my head was so confused that I could not

recollect what had taken place before, so as to understand why it was

that I was lying out there in the darkness, close to this wounded man.

At last I concluded to shout for help, and my lips parted, but no sound

came. This startled me, and I began to tremble, for it was all so new

and strange.

But by degrees my brain grew clearer, and I began to have faint rays of

understanding penetrate my darkened mind. These grew brighter and

brighter, till at last I was able to understand that I had been struck

down by a tremendous blow on the head, the very realisation of that fact

being accompanied by such acute pain, that I was glad to lie there

perfectly inert without thinking at all.

But this fit did not last long, and I could see now the matter in its

true light, and it all came back about how I gave the alarm, and must

have been standing there as the Indians came over, and I was struck down

at once.

Then as I lay there in the darkness, I began to recall how I had been

lying with some one across me, and half suffocating me.

I had crawled away a few yards in my half insensible condition, but now

a shuddering desire came over me to creep back, and find out who it was

that lay there dead or dying.

It was terrible, that feeling, for I felt that I must go, and as I crept

back, it was with the idea that it was probably one of those who would

be the first to rush to the defence of the palisade, and in a confused,

half-dreamy way, I found myself combating the fancy that it might be my

father.

I paused when about half-way back, afraid to go farther, but the intense

desire to know the worst came over me again, and I crept on and then

stopped with my hand raised, and held suspended over the prostrate

figure, afraid to move it and touch the body.

At last, and I uttered a faint sigh full of relief, for my hand had

fallen upon the bare breast of a man, and I knew that it must be one of

the Indians. It was puzzling that he and I should be there, and no one

near, for I could not detect the presence of either of the sentries.

Where was everybody? Some one was coming, though, the next minute, for

I heard soft footsteps, and then the murmur of voices, which came nearer

and nearer till I heard a familiar voice say--

"Oh, Mass' George, do 'peak."

I tried to obey, but no sound would come, even now that I felt a vast

sense of relief, for I knew that I must have been hurt, and the two

blacks were in search of me.

"Ah, here him are," suddenly cried Pomp, and I next felt two great hands

lifting me gently, and I was carried through the darkness to what I knew

must be the block-house, where I had some recollection of being laid

down. Then I directly went off to sleep, and did not awake till nearly

day, to see a black face close to the rough pallet on which I lay, and

as the day grew broader, I made out that it was Pomp watching by my

side.

"Mass' George better now?"

"Better? Yes; I am not ill," I said, and I tried to get up, but lay

still again, for the effort seemed to give me a violent pain in the head

which made me groan.

"Mass' George not seem very better."

"But I am. I'll get up directly. But tell me, Pomp, how was it all?"

"How was?"

"Yes; how did it happen?"

"Done know, Mass' George. 'Pose Injum come over big fence and jump on

and knock poor lil nigger and Mass' George down. Den um hab big fight

an kill de Injum, an noder big fight by de gate an kill more Injum, and

den Injum say good-night, time go to bed, an dat's all."

"The Indians gone?"

"Yes; all gone."

"Then we have beaten them. Hurrah! Oh, my head!"

"Hurrah--oh my head!" cried Pomp, in imitation. "Why say `Hurrah! Oh,

my head'?"

"Oh, don't, Pomp. You make me laugh."

"Dat right; glad see Mass' George laugh. Mass' George couldn't laugh

lil bit when Pomp fess um fader carry um."

"No; I remember now. I had forgotten."

"Mass' Dockor say good job Mass' George got tick head, or kill um."

"Did the doctor say that, Pomp?"

"Yes, Mass' Dockor say dat. Injum hit um wif um lil chopper, same time

some one shoot and kill Injum; den Pomp knock down, and all jump on um,

and dey pick um up, and take um 'way, and bring um here."

"Then were you hurt too?"

"Yes, hurt dreffle, and dockor laugh, and say nuffum matter wif um, and

send um 'way 'gain. Den Pomp go an' fine um fader, and come an' fine

Mass' George, and bring um here. Dockor no laugh at Mass' George, ony

say, `Poor fellow!' and `Put um to bed,' an' `Good job um got such tick

head,' and put plaster on um."

I raised my hand to my head, and sure enough there was some

sticking-plaster there.

"Does my father know?" I said, as a sudden thought occurred to me.

"Pomp done know, Mass' George. Haben see Mass' Capen long time."

Our conversation was checked by the entrance of the doctor, who smiled

as he saw me sitting up on the rude bed.

"Well, squire," he said, "you seem determined to be a patient. How are

you now?"

"My head aches a good deal."

"No wonder, my lad, you got an ugly crack with the flat of a tomahawk.

The man must have slipped as he was leaping from the fence. A narrow

escape for you."

"But the Indians are beaten off," I said, eagerly.

"For the present at all events. But they may attack again to-night, and

I am beginning to be busy."

"Must I stop here, sir?"

"Certainly not, if you feel well enough to get up."

At that moment a shadow darkened the door, and my father came in

quickly, followed by Hannibal.

"George? Hurt?" he exclaimed, huskily.

"Not much, father," I said, "and the doctor says I may get up."

"Thank Heaven!" muttered my father. Then aloud, "I have only just heard

from Hannibal here. You gave me a terrible fright."

My father took hold of my hands to hold them in his for a few moments,

as he looked full in my eyes; and I wondered at it, for I was not old

enough then to understand his emotion, nor to think I was bad enough to

stop in bed.

Ten minutes later I was out in the enclosure, and learned a little more

about what had taken place after I was knocked down insensible. How

there had been several hand-to-hand encounters where the Indians had

determinedly climbed over and gained a footing, from which they were

dislodged directly, with the result that several were killed and

wounded--four of our party also having ugly wounds.

As I was going across the enclosure, hearing how the enemy had been

finally beaten off, and had retreated into the forest, where it was not

considered safe to follow them, Colonel Preston met us, looking jaded

and anxious, but his face brightened up as he saw me, and he came up and

shook hands.

"Why, George Bruton, you are a lucky fellow," he cried, laughingly.

"Two wounds. This is grand. Of course he must be promoted, Bruton, as

soon as peace is proclaimed."

"Why, George," said my father, as we went on, "what's the matter?"

"I don't like to be laughed at, father," I said; "and Colonel Preston

was making fun of me, as if I were a little child."

"He did not mean it unkindly. There, come and have some light

breakfast, and you must keep out of the sun."

Mass' George: A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah · 第 70 / 103 题