Pete calmed down after a while, and began to feel a bit sulky. He had
common-sense enough to begin looking at the state of affairs from a
matter-of-fact point of view, and he lay conning the position over.
"Just as he likes," he said. "He pitches me over, and won't have any
more to do with me. Well, it aren't no wonder, zeeing what I've been.
Wonder what made me turn so zoft and zilly about him! Zeeing how hard
it was for him to be zarved as he was, and then hooked off along with
us."
"Dunno that it's any worse for him than it is for me," he muttered; "but
zeemed to feel a bit sorry about him, poor lad!--there I go again: poor
lad! No more poor lad than I be. Got it into my thick head that it was
nice to help him while he was so bad, and that, now our lads have
pitched me overboard, we was going to be mates and help one another.
But we aren't, for he's pitched me overboard too."
"Well," muttered Pete, with a bitter laugh, "I can zwim as well as most
on 'em, and I shan't hurt much; and as for him, he must take his chance
with the rest on us. He's got his wits back again, and don't zeem like
to go wool-gathering again; and, if he's sharp, he'll speak up and make
that t'other man understand it's all a blunder about him being sent off
along o' we. But there, he wants to go his own fashion, zo he must.
But if I was him I should kick up a dust before we start, and have
myself zent back home by the next ship."
He glanced in the gloom at where Nic was seated, and a feeling of sorrow
for the poor fellow filled him again; but after the rebuff he had
received he fought it off, and began to watch Humpy Dee and the others,
as they sat together talking in a low tone, and then to meditate on
their position towards himself.
"They're half-afraid of Humpy," he thought, "and he's made 'em think
that I zet the sailors at them. If I go on talking till it's a blue
moon they won't believe me, zo things must go their own way, and zome
day they'll find Humpy out; on'y I'm not going to let him do as he likes
with me. This isn't going to be a very cheerful zort of life out here;
but, such as it is, it's better than no life at all; zo I aren't going
to let him pitch me into the river or down some hole, or knock me on the
head, or stick a knife into me. That won't do. It's murder--leastwise
it is at home; p'raps it aren't out here. Zeems not after the way that
chap talked about shooting us down and zetting them dogs at us. Why,
one of 'em's stronger than us, and a zet-to wi' one of 'em wouldn't be
nice. Bit of a coward, I s'pose, for I can't abide being bitten by a
dog."
"Best thing I can do will be to slip off first chance; for I zeem, what
with Humpy and these folk, to have dropped into a nasty spot. Dessay I
can take care of myself, and--nay, that won't do; zeem sneaky-like to go
and leave that poor lad, for I do zort o' like him. Wonderful how they
dogs took to him. Nay, that aren't wonderful. Got a lot o' zense, dogs
have. Allus zeem to take to zick people and little tiny children, and
blind folk too. How they like them too!"
At that moment there was a deep baying sound not far-away, and Pete had
not long to wait before there were steps, the door was unlocked and
thrown open, and the overseer entered, accompanied by the dogs, and
followed by a party of blacks, one of whom carried a roughly-made
basket.
They were big, muscular fellows, and shiny to a degree whenever the
light caught their skins, a good deal of which was visible, for their
dress consisted of a pair of striped cotton drawers, descending half-way
to the knee, and a sleeveless jacket of the same material, worn open so
that neck and breast were bare.
The dogs barked at the prisoners, and repeated their examination by
scent, ending by going well over Nic, who made no attempt to caress
them, nor displayed any sign of fear, but sat in his place stolidly
watching the proceedings, the dogs ending their nasal inspection by
crouching down and watching him.
The overseer was alone now, and his first proceeding was to take his
stand by the black, who had set down the heavy basket, and call Humpy
Dee to come forward, by the name of Number One.
The man rose heavily, and this seemed to be a signal for the three
hounds to spring to their feet again, making the man hesitate.
"Them dogs bite, master?" he said.
"Yes; they'll be at your throat in a moment if you make the slightest
attempt to escape," said the overseer sharply.
"Who's going to try to escape?" grumbled Humpy.
"You are thinking of it, sir," said the overseer. "Mind this," he
continued--drawing the light jacket he wore aside and tapping his belt,
thus showing a brace of heavy pistols--"I am a good shot, and I could
easily bring you down as you ran."
"Who's going to run?" grumbled Humpy. "Man can't run with things like
these on his legs."
"I have seen men run pretty fast in fetters," said the overseer quietly;
"but they did not run far. Come here."
Humpy shuffled along two or three steps, trailing his irons behind him,
and the overseer shouted at him:
"Pick up the links by the middle ring, sir, and move smartly."
He cracked his whip, and a thrill ran through Nic.
Humpy did as he was told, and walked more quickly to where the overseer
stood; but before he reached him the herculean black who stood by his
basket, which looked like a coarsely-made imitation of the kind used by
a carpenter for his tools, clapped a hand upon the prisoner's shoulder
and stopped him short, making Humpy turn upon him savagely.
"Ah!" roared the overseer, as if he were speaking to one of the dogs.
Humpy was overawed, and he stood still, while the black bent down, took
a ball of oakum out of the basket, cut off about a foot, passed the
piece through the centre ring of the irons, and deftly tied it to the
prisoner's waist-belt. Then, as Nic and Pete watched, the action going
on fascinating them, the black made a sign to one of his companions, who
dropped upon his knees by the basket, took out a hammer, and handed it
to the first black. Then the kneeling man lifted out a small block of
iron, which looked like a pyramid with the top flattened, clapped it on
the floor, and the first black began to manipulate Humpy as a blacksmith
would a horse he was about to shoe, dragging him to the little anvil
with one hand, using the hammer-handle to poke him into position with
the other.
"Going to take off his irons," thought Pete, and the same idea flashed
across Nic's mind.
He was mistaken.
Another black stepped up, as if fully aware of what was necessary, and
stood behind Humpy, ready to hold him up when necessary; for the second
black now seized one of the prisoner's ankles, lifted his foot on to the
little anvil, and the first examined the rivet, grunted his
dissatisfaction, and Humpy's foot was wrenched sidewise by one man, who
held the rivet upon the anvil, while his leader struck it a few heavy
blows to enlarge the head and make it perfectly safe.
This done, Humpy was marched nearer the door, scowling savagely at
having had to submit to this process; but he grinned his
self-satisfaction as he saw his companions brought forward in turn for
their irons to be examined--one to have them replaced by a fresh set,
which were taken from the basket, and whose rings were tightly riveted
about his ankles, the rivets of the old ones being quite loose.
The men were ranged near the entrance, which, at a look from the
overseer, was now guarded by the three unoccupied blacks.
"Now you," said the overseer to Pete, who rose from where he sat alone
and approached the anvil with a curious sensation running through him.
"Why didn't they iron you?" said the overseer harshly.
"Wounded and sick," replied Pete gruffly.
"Ah, well, you are not wounded and sick now.--He's a big, strong fellow,
Sam. Give him a heavy set."
The big black showed his fine set of white teeth. A set of fetters was
taken from the basket, and with Pete's foot held in position by the
second black--a foot which twitched and prickled with a strong desire to
kick--the first ring was quickly adjusted, a soft iron rivet passed
through the two holes, and then the head was rested upon the little
block of iron, and a few cleverly-delivered blows from the big black's
hammer spread the soft iron out into a second head, and the open ring
was drawn tight.
The second ankle-ring was quickly served in the same way, and the centre
link was lifted and tied to the prisoner's waist-belt, Pete turning
scarlet, and wiping the perspiration from his dripping brow from time to
time.
"Over yonder with the others!"
There was a movement among the men at the door as this order was given,
and Pete winced; but even a man newly fettered can still feel pride, and
the poor fellow determined that his old comrades should not think he was
afraid of them. He walked boldly up to take his place, meeting Humpy's
malignant look of triumph without shrinking, and turning quickly
directly after with a feeling of pity as he heard the overseer summon
Nic to take his place in turn.
"Now's your time, my lad," Pete said to himself. "Speak out like a man,
and if you ask me to, I'll back you up--I will."
He looked on excitedly, wondering whether Nic's wits were still with
him, as but so short a time ago they had only returned to him like a
flash and then passed away, leaving him, as it were, in the dark.
It was very still in the hot, close place, and every word spoken sounded
strangely loud in the calm of the late afternoon.
"Lighter irons," said the overseer to the big black; and there was the
clinking sound of the great links as the man handed the fetters from the
basket.
"And him not shrinking," thought Pete. "Give me quite a turn. He can't
understand."
The big black took the fetters and balanced them in his hand, looking at
his superior as much as to say, "Will these do?"
The overseer took a step or two forward and grasped the chain, to stand
holding it, gazing frowningly the while at Nic, who met his gaze without
blenching.
"Why don't you speak--why don't you speak?" muttered Pete. "Can't you
see that now's your time?"
"You've been bad, haven't you?" said the overseer roughly.
Nic raised his hand slowly to his head and touched the scar of a great
cut on one side, the discoloration of a bruise on the other.
"But quite well again now?"
Nic smiled faintly.
"I am weak as a child," he replied.
"Humph! Yes," said the overseer, and he threw the chain upon the floor.
Pete, who had been retaining his breath for some moments, uttered a
faint exclamation full of relief.
"But why didn't he speak out and tell him?" For a few moments his
better feelings urged him to speak out himself; but he shrank from
exposing both to the denials of the other men again, and stood frowning
and silent.
Then the chance seemed to be gone, for the overseer gave the young
prisoner a thrust towards the others, and Nic walked towards them
straight for where Pete was waiting. Then he raised his eyes, saw who
was standing in his way, and he went off to his right, to stop beside
Humpy Dee, while a feeling of resentment rose hotly in Pete's breast.
"Oh, very well," he muttered to himself; "it's no business of mine."
The next minute the overseer gave a sharp order; the big black raised
the basket and put himself at the head of the prisoners; the other
slaves took their places on either side, and the overseer followed
behind with the dogs, which began to bound about, barking loudly for a
minute or two, and then walked quietly as the party left the gloomy
warehouse behind.