"Now then to find Pomp, and get back to the boat."
I had hardly uttered the words when there was a yell, and four savages
dashed out of the forest toward us, knife in one hand, axe in the other.
They were not twenty yards away, and I raised my heavy piece to my
shoulder as I saw Morgan let his barrel fall into one hand and fire.
A hideous yell followed, and one of the Indians leaped in the air. I
saw no more for the smoke, but I drew trigger too, and staggered back
with the violent concussion of the piece.
Then I stood aghast at what followed, for as the smoke lifted I saw an
Indian spring on Morgan, and Hannibal drop the gun he held as the other
two Indians rushed at him axe in hand, yelling horribly.
Then in what seemed to me was a nightmare dream, I saw Morgan seize the
Indian's hand, and they closed in a desperate struggle, while on my
other side Hannibal was battling with two, and I was helpless to assist
either, and--well, I was a boy of sixteen or so, and how could I at
close quarters like that try to shed blood?
True, in the excitement of the flight in the boat, I had loaded and
fired again and again as the Indians kept sending their arrows at us;
but all I could do now was to drop my own piece and run to pick up the
one Hannibal had dropped.
But I did not fire it. I could only stand and gaze first at one, and
then at the other, as I saw the great calm black now frenzied with rage
and the thirst for battle. He was bleeding from blows given by the
knife of one Indian and the axe of the other, but his wounds only seemed
to have made him furious, and he stood there now looking like a giant,
holding one of his enemies by the throat, the other by the wrist, in
spite of their writhings and desperate efforts to strike him some deadly
blow. He looked to me then like a giant in strength; but the Indians
were strong too, and though he was rapidly subduing the one whose throat
he grasped, the other was gradually wriggling himself free, when,
seizing my opportunity, rendered desperate by the position, I raised the
heavy piece I held as if it were a club, and brought the barrel down
with all my might upon the Indian's head.
I stepped back sickened by what I had done, as his arm relaxed and he
fell prone, while, freed now from one adversary whose axe would the next
moment have brained him, Hannibal grasped his remaining enemy with both
hands, raised him up, and dashed him heavily upon the earth.
It was time, for Morgan was down, the Indian upon him, his knife raised
high to plunge into the poor fellow's throat, but held back by Morgan's
hand, which was yielding fast.
I stood paralysed and watching, when, with a roar like a wild beast,
Hannibal dashed at this last man, and with the axe he had at his waist
struck him full in the temple, and he dropped down sidewise quivering in
death.
I remember thinking it very horrible as I saw all this bloodshed, but I
knew it would have been far more horrible if the savage wretches had
killed us. Then every other thought was driven out of my head by the
appearance of Hannibal, who was quite transformed. As a rule he was the
quiet, gentle-looking black, always ready to obey the slightest command;
now he seemed to tower up a ferocious-looking being, with wild glaring
eyes looking about for something else to destroy, and had I not caught
hold of his arm he would have used the axe he held on the fallen men.
"Under cover, my lad," said Morgan, who was panting heavily. "Don't
leave that gun. Now Hannibal, quick!"
He led the way in among the trees, where we quickly loaded the
discharged pieces, crouching down under bushes, while Hannibal knelt
beside us keeping watch, his wild eyes glaring round in every direction
for some fresh enemy to attack.
"Nice--narrow--escape that! Master George," said Morgan, in a low
voice, as he gave the ramrod a thud between every two words. "Pretty
object I should have looked if I'd had to go back to your father and say
you were killed by the Indians. Oh dear! Oh dear! I did hope I'd done
killing people to the end of my days, and now look yonder."
"It was forced upon you, Morgan," I whispered, as I finished charging
one of the pieces.
"Upon me!" cried Morgan. "Oh, come now, Master George, play fair.
Don't get putting on all down to my account. My word! Who'd have
thought old Hannibal here could fight like that?"
The great black looked fiercely round, but smiled sadly as Morgan held
out his hand and said--
"Thank you, old lad."
"Yes! Thank you, Hannibal, for saving my life," I whispered.
"Mass' George save Han's life," was the reply in deep tones. Then the
smile passed from the great fellow's face, and a terrible expression
came over it again as his eyes rolled round, and he said in a deep, low,
muttering voice--
"Come--quick find Pomp."
"And I was just going to say, let's make a run now for the boat," said
Morgan. "But we can't leave the boy, Master George."
"No," I said. "Here, take your gun, Han."
I passed the firelock to him, and followed his gaze as he glared round
among the trees from behind whose trunks I expected to see the enemy
peering, ready to take revenge for the death of their companions. But
there was no one near as far as I could see, and we rose cautiously to
get a better view round through the clustering boughs whose heavy
foliage cut off the light, so that we were gazing down glorious vistas
that ended far away in the deepest shade.
"Might hide an army there, and no one could see 'em," muttered Morgan.
"Find Pomp?" said Hannibal, looking at me inquiringly.
"Yes," I said; "try and find him. Go on."
The great fellow drew a deep breath, and led off at once with the
firelock in his left hand, the axe in his right; and I knew that if we
had a fresh encounter, the modern weapon would be useless in his hands,
while the axe would be terrible.
To my great horror, the course he chose was out by where the desperate
struggle had taken place, and my first instinct was to close my eyes and
not look at the dead Indians; but I told myself I was a soldier's son,
and that these men had fallen as we were fighting for our lives. But it
was very terrible to see them lying there as they had fallen, two of
them still grasping their weapons, and with a look of savage hatred in
their faces.
Hannibal led on, Morgan followed, and I was last, and I was beginning to
feel glad that we were leaving the dead behind, where they lay beneath
the great cypress, when Hannibal turned round and raised his axe to
point as it seemed to me in the direction of the forest beyond the
garden, and to my horror it appeared as if the man had been seized with
a fresh desire to shed blood, for his great lips were drawn away from
his glistening teeth, his eyes opened widely showing broad rings of
white round the dark irides, and throwing up the axe ready to strike, he
dropped the gun and literally bounded at me.
With a faint cry of horror as I saw the awful-looking object leaping at
me, the firelock dropping from his left hand, and the blood glistening
on his great arms, I dropped sidewise just as a knife flashed by my
cheek and over my left shoulder.
It was then that I realised the truth, and drew my breath hard, as I saw
Hannibal's axe descend; there was a terrible crashing sound and a heavy
fall, and as, sick and seeing dimly, I looked down to my left, the great
figure of the black was bending over a grinning object in the bushes at
the forest edge, his foot was pressing back one of our enemies, and he
dragged the axe free.
"Is he dead now?" Morgan whispered, hoarsely, and his face looked
ghastly as he caught me by the arm.
Hannibal uttered a low deep sound, and drew himself up to his full
height. Then he bent down again, and I saw him tear a glittering knife
out of a brown hand, which with its arm rose above the bushes and was
clinging still to the haft.
"Morgan," I said, faintly, as the great black strode back toward where
we had had the struggle first, "stop him. What is he going to do?"
"I want to stop him, lad," whispered the faithful fellow, in low,
awe-stricken tones; "but I can't try; I daren't. It must be done."
"But that was another Indian," I whispered, as I saw Hannibal bend down,
rise up, take a step or two, and bend down again, and then everything
swam before my eyes. I could hear Morgan's voice though as he went on--
"It was horribly near, sir," he said. "It wasn't another Indian, but
one of those shamming dead, and as soon as we'd got by he must have
crawled after us, and old Han turned just in time, and went at him as he
was striking at you with his knife. It's very horrid, my lad, but these
savages don't understand fair fighting and giving quarter to the
wounded. There, come away, and don't look angry at the black when he
comes back. He has just saved your life again, and what he is doing now
is to make sure you are not attacked again."
I stood speechless, resting on the piece I held in my hand till the
great negro came back with the knife stuck in his waist-belt, to stoop
and pick up the gun he had dropped; and then he pointed again with the
axe toward the forest beyond the garden.
"Come," he said, quietly. "Find Pomp."
He looked at me once more with so grave and kindly an aspect that I
tried to smother the horror I felt, and taking a step or two forward, I
drew out a handkerchief and pointed to his bleeding arms, which were
gashed by two blows of axe and knife.
He smiled and nodded half contemptuously as I tore the handkerchief in
two, and he held out his arms one by one for me to bind them tightly.
"Now," he said, "find Pomp."
I held up my hand and we listened to a low, hoarse, gurgling noise,
which seemed to come from a distance in the forest, and I shuddered as I
fancied for a moment that it must be one of the Indians dying; but I
knew that the sound came from a different direction.
We listened intently as we stooped under cover and kept a watchful gaze
in every direction for danger. But the sound had ceased and for the
moment we were safe, for no leaf was stirring, and the deep shadowy wood
appeared to be untenanted. Hannibal shook his head, and was in the act
of turning when the curious hoarse gurgling sound came again.
It was like nothing I had ever heard before, and what was more strange,
it was impossible to make out whence it came, for it rose and fell, rose
again, and then died out.
"What is it?" I said to Morgan. "An Indian cry?"
"No," he replied. "Hark! There it is again."
Yes; there it was again, but appeared to be from a fresh direction.
"Is it something down amongst the bushes--a frog or a young 'gator?"
"No; I don't think it can be that, sir. I've heard nearly every sound
they make, and it isn't anything like that."
All was still again, and we moved on slowly farther into the forest,
going cautiously in and out among the trees, our weapons ready, and a
strict look-out kept for the enemy. For it seemed to me that the main
body could not be far off, our encounter having been with a skirmishing
party.
"There again," I whispered. "What is it, Hannibal?"
He was kneeling down now listening; and as he looked up at me, I could
see that he was puzzled, for he shook his head.
"Han done know," he said.
Again the sound came--a hoarse, gurgling, faint noise, as from a great
distance, but somehow we were as far off from understanding what it
meant as ever.
"Never mind," said Morgan. "It isn't what we are looking for. Go on,
Han; we must find that boy, and escape for our lives."
The great black nodded and started off at once, Morgan and I going to
right and left of him, and we searched through the great trees, working
away round the opening cleared from the forest for our house, but though
the sound continued, we could find no trace of the cause nor yet of the
poor boy, who had dropped completely out of sight.
My heart sank as I felt sure that the Indians must have surprised him,
and moment by moment, as we started again into the forest, making now
toward the rattlesnake clearing and the path leading to the
landing-place, I expected to come upon him lying dead where he had been
struck down.
But we examined the place again and again in every direction without
success, and we were neither of us sufficiently skilled to attempt in
the gloom beneath the trees to find him by his tracks.
The sound had nearly ceased now, only occurring faintly at intervals,
and still it was as confusing as ever, for we could not make out whence
it came.
At last we stopped at the edge of the rattlesnake clearing, near where
the path struck out leading to the water-side.
"What are we to do, Master George?" said Morgan. "I want to find that
boy, and at any moment we may be attacked by enemies, and it seems to be
our duty to get down to the boat, row back as fast as we can, and give
warning that the Indians are still near at hand."
"Yes, go," said Hannibal, who had been listening intently to Morgan's
words. "Boat. Injum. Han 'top find um boy."
Morgan looked at me, but I shook my head.
"No," I said; "we will not go--we cannot, and leave him here. Will you
come, Hannibal?"
"To find um boy," he said, frowning.
"And we'll stop too, Morgan," I said. "We may find him at any moment,
and it is impossible to go and leave the poor boy like this."
Hannibal did not speak, but I saw his eyes fixed on me as Morgan spoke.
"I don't want to go and leave him, Master George," he said, "because
it's like leaving a comrade, and old soldiers don't do that. But
soldiers has their duty to do, and duty says--Go and let them know at
the settlement. Besides, my duty to your father seems to say, Get you
out of this as quick as you can."
"Yes, I know that, Morgan," I said.
"And the Indians may be on us at any moment."
"Yes, but we can't leave him," I said; "and--Ah, there's that noise
again. I'm sure it came from right in there."
I pointed back toward the other side of the clearing, toward which spot
Hannibal immediately rushed, and we followed as quickly as we could, for
something seemed to tell us that a discovery was at hand.
It was close by the part of the forest through which Morgan and I had
made our way cautiously and silently when we were going to kill the
rattlesnake; and as we reached the edge, and passed in amongst the
densely growing trees, all was silent, dark, and mysterious-looking; but
there was nothing to be seen but tree-trunks, and we crept up to where
the great black stood bending down and listening.
All was silent. Then there was a faint rap as a squirrel dropped a
fir-cone from high up somewhere invisible to us. As far as we could see
there were the gloomy aisles of great growing pillars, and we knew that
we had passed through this portion of the forest again and again, though
it was quite possible that we might have missed parts.
"Well, do you hear it?" I said, in a whisper.
Hannibal shook his head despondently, and then his face lit up as we
heard from our right, and quite close at hand, the same faint, gurgling
sound, now evidently a cry.
The black rushed on in and out among the trees, a gleam of sunshine
catching his black skin once, just as we were passing the gloomiest
part; and then, as I was close behind him, he disappeared beyond a group
of great pillar-like pine-trees, and when I reached them I came upon him
suddenly in a hollow, deep with fir-needles--a natural hole formed by
the fall of a monstrous tree, whose root still lay as it had been
wrenched out when the tree fell, but the trunk itself had gradually
mouldered into dust.
And there was Hannibal busily cutting the hide thongs which bound Pomp,
who was lying helpless at the bottom of the hole, with a blanket and a
rough skin garment close by him, and beside these five bows and their
arrows.
It was evidently the lurking-place of the Indian scouting party, who had
suddenly pounced upon the boy, gagged and bound him, for his jaws were
forced wide apart, a piece of ragged blanket was thrust into his mouth,
and this was kept in by another hide thong tied round and round his face
and neck, passing between his jaws as if he were bridled with a leather
bit, while his arms and wrists and legs were so securely tied that the
poor fellow was perfectly helpless.
"Can't say he's black in the face, in the way we mean," said Morgan,
sympathetically, "because, poor lad, it is his nature to be so, look
you, but he's half dead."
I was already down on my knees chafing the wrists set at liberty, after
the hide had been cut away from the boy's cheeks and the gag taken out,
but he made no sign whatever, and we were still rubbing him, and trying
to restore the circulation, when Morgan said quickly--
"We can do that in the boat. Up with him, Han, I'll carry your gun.
There must be more Indians near. These were on the advance, I'll lay,
and I wouldn't say we don't have a fresh attack to-night."
Without a word Hannibal handed the gun, took Pomp by the arms, gently
swung him on his back, and tore off a strip of blanket with which he
tightly bound the boy's wrists together upon his own chest, so that it
left the black's hands at liberty should he want to use them.
"Go on now," he said; and he held out his hand for his gun.
It was only a short distance from where we were to the boat, but it was
really to be the most anxious part of all, and as we approached
rattlesnake clearing, I involuntarily checked the others to look out
cautiously before we left the dark pine-shade.
But all was still, the beautiful young growth glistening in the hot
sunshine; and striking the path on the other side, gazing watchfully as
we could, ready for attack, and fully expecting to see the Indians in
possession of the boat, we finally reached the landing-place, where Pomp
was laid in the stern, the weapons were placed ready, and faint and
dripping with perspiration, I sank down beside Pomp as the rope was cast
off.