HORATIO'S MOONLIGHT ADVENTURE
[Illustration: Music]
"Rooster in de chicken coop crowin' foh day,
Horses in de stable goin' 'Nay, nay, nay!'
[Illustration: Music]
Ducks in de yard goin' 'Quack, quack, quack!'
Guineas in de tree tops goin' 'Rack-pot-rack!'"
DURING the two weeks since they had come to the land of sugar-cane
Horatio and Bosephus had learned some of the old negro songs of
Louisiana and sang them to their own music. They were doing so now as
they marched along the bank of a quiet bayou, where the blue grass came
to the water's edge and the long Spanish moss from big live oak trees
swung down twenty feet or more till it almost touched the water. They
had had a good day and were going to camp.
"Bo," said the Bear presently, "we are doing well. We are making money,
Bo."
"Fifty dollars since we left the boat," said the little boy.
"These fat babies--little darky babies--are very amusing, too, Bosephus,
don't you think so?" Horatio added, nodding in the direction of some
they were just then passing.
[Illustration: "THESE LITTLE DARKEY BABIES ARE VERY--AMUSING."]
"I notice that you think so," said Bo, dryly. "If you'll take my advice,
though, you won't show any special fondness for them. People might not
understand your ways, you know, and besides," he added, with a grin,
"I've heard say these darkies down here are mighty fond of bear meat,
and there's such a lot of them----"
"Don't you mention it, Bo; I never dreamed of such a thing as you are
hinting at."
"Well, you said you were dreaming yesterday when we met that little
darky boy, and you nearly tore the jacket off of him before I could wake
you up with a club."
Horatio drew his bow hastily across the strings and began singing--
[Illustration: Music]
"Keemo, kimo, kilgo, kayro,
Horses in de stable goin' 'Nay, nay, nay!'
[Illustration: Music]
Rop strop, periwinkle, little yaller nigger,
Cum a rop strop bottle till the break of day."
The sun was just setting behind a large, white, old fashioned sugar
house, where the bayou turned, and made it look like an ancient castle.
The little boy sighed. He had never believed that any country could be
so beautiful as this, and he wanted to stay in it forever. Horatio liked
it, too. They had played and danced at many of the sugar houses, and the
Bear had been given everywhere all the waste sugar he could eat. He was
fond of the green cane also, and was nearly always chewing a piece when
they were not busy with a performance. But the big fellow had never
quite overcome his old savage nature, and the race on the steamboat had
roused it more fiercely than ever. The fat pickaninnies were a constant
temptation to him, and it had taken all Bo's watchfulness to keep him
out of dreadful mischief. Bo never feared for himself. Horatio loved him
and had even become afraid of him. It was for Horatio that he feared,
for he knew that death would be sure and swift if one of the
pickaninnies was even so much as scratched, not to mention anything
worse that might happen. Again the little boy sighed as they turned into
a clean grassy place and made ready for camp.
Long after Bosephus was asleep Horatio sat by the dying camp fire,
thinking. By and by he rose and walked out to the bank of the bayou and
looked toward the sugar house that lay white in the moonlight, half a
mile away. Then he went back to where Bo was asleep and picked up the
violin. Then he laid it down again, as though he had changed his mind,
and slipped away through the shadows in the direction of the old sugar
house. He said to himself that, as they were going in that direction and
would stop there next day, he might as well see how the road went and
what kind of a place it was. He did not own, even to himself, that it
was the negro cabins and fat pickaninnies that were in his mind, and
that down in his heart was a wicked and savage purpose. Every little way
he paused and seemed about to turn back, but he kept on. By and by he
drew near the sugar house and saw the double row of whitewashed huts in
the moonlight. It was later than he had supposed and the crowds of
little darkies that were usually playing outside had gone to bed. He
sighed and was about to turn back when suddenly he saw something
capering about near the shed of the sugar house. He slipped up nearer
and a fierce light came into his eyes. It was a little negro boy doing a
hoo-doo dance in the moonlight.
[Illustration: HE SLIPPED AWAY THROUGH THE SHADOWS.]
Suddenly the little fellow turned and saw the Bear glaring at him.
Horatio was between him and the cabins. The boy gave one wild shriek and
dashed through a small open door that led into the blackness of the
sugar house, the Bear following close behind. It was one of the old
Creole sugar houses where the syrup is poured out into open vessels to
cool and harden. The little darky knew his way and Horatio didn't. He
stumbled and fell, and growled and tried to follow the flying shadow
that was skipping and leaping and begging, "Oh, Mars Debbil! Oh, please,
Mars Debbil, lemme go dis time, an' I nevah do so no mo'. Nevah do no
mo' hoo-doo, Mars Debbil; oh, please, Mars Debbil, lemme go!"
But Horatio was getting closer and closer and in another moment would
seize him. Then, suddenly, something happened. The Bear stumbled and,
half falling, stepped into one of the big shallow wooden vessels. He
felt his hind feet break through something like crusted ice and sink a
foot or more into a heavy, thick substance below. When he tried to lift
them they only sank deeper. Then he knew what was the matter. He had
stepped into a mass of hardening sugar and was a prisoner! His forefeet
were free, but he dared not struggle with them for fear of getting them
fast, too. The little darky, who thought the devil had stopped to rest,
was huddled together in a corner not daring to move. Horatio remembered
Bo sleeping safely in their camp and began to weep for his own
wickedness. In the morning men would come with axes and guns. Why had he
not heeded Bo? Half seated on the crusted sugar he gave himself up to
sorrow and despair.
* * * * *
It was early morning when Bo awoke. He was surprised to see that Horatio
was not beside him, for the boy was usually first awake. He called
loudly. Then, as the moments passed and the Bear did not come, he grew
uneasy. Suddenly a terrible suspicion flashed over him. He sprang to his
feet and seizing the violin that lay beside him set forth on a run in
the direction of the white sugar house. He knew Horatio would go there
because it was nearest, and he felt certain that something dreadful had
happened. The incident of the day before made him almost sure of
Horatio's errand, and he feared the worst. No doubt they had caught and
killed him by this time, and what would he do now without his faithful
friend?
[Illustration: SUDDENLY THE LITTLE FELLOW TURNED.]
He ran faster and faster. As he drew near the sugar house he heard a
great commotion. For a moment he stopped. If Horatio had done something
terrible and they had caught him perhaps it would be dangerous to
interfere. The next moment he rushed on. Horatio was his friend and he
would save his life if possible, unless----. He did not think any
further, but flew on. As he dashed into the cane yard he saw crowds
gathering and men running with axes and clubs. Others had guns and cane
knives, and all were crowding toward the big doors of the sugar house,
that were now thrown open. Inside he heard shouts, mingled with
Horatio's fierce growls. His friend was still alive.
Without pausing he rushed through the doors and saw a circle of negro
men gathered about the big wooden trough where the Bear was a prisoner,
snapping and growling and trying to get free. The little pickaninny who,
in spite of his fright, had slept all night in the corner, was there,
too, and the men with axes and other weapons had entered with Bo. There
was not a second to be lost.
"Wait!" screamed Bo; "wait!" And tearing through the astonished crowd he
thrust the violin into Horatio's hands.
"Play!" he shouted. "Play for your worthless life!"
Horatio did not need to be told again. He reached for the violin and
bow, and sitting in the now solid sugar struck the strings wildly.
"Rooster in de chicken coop, crowin' foh day;
Horses in de stable goin' 'Nay, nay, nay;'
Ducks in de yard goin' 'Quack, quack, quack!'
Guineas in de tree tops, goin' 'Rack-pot-rack!'"
Horatio fiddled furiously, while Bo shouted and sang and the crowd
joined in. They all knew this song, and as they sang they forgot all
else. Axes and guns and clubs were dropped as young and old fell into
the swing of the music.
"Keemo, kimo, kilgo, kayro;
Fleero, fliro, flav-o-ray;
Rop strop, periwinkle, little yaller nigger,
Cum a rop strop bottle till de break--of--day!"
You could hear the noise for a mile. They danced and shouted and sang,
and work was forgotten. After a long time, when they were tired out, Bo
took one of the axes and carefully broke the now solid sugar away from
Ratio's feet and set him free. Then they brought water and washed his
hind paws and he danced for them.
After dinner, when the friends started out on their journey, the crowd
followed them for nearly a mile. When all were gone Horatio turned to Bo
and said:--
"I am glad you came just as you did, Bo."
"I should rather think you would be," said Bo, grimly.
"Because," continued Horatio, "if you hadn't I might have damaged some
of those fellows, and I know you wouldn't have liked that, Bosephus." He
looked at the little boy very humbly as he said this, expecting a severe
lecture. But the little boy made no reply, and down in his heart the big
Bear at that moment made a solemn and good resolve.