In obedience to the order which had despatched them, the two
well-trained bloodhounds of the overseer tore on till they were about to
bound upon the prisoners, when a sharp, shrill whistle arrested their
rush on the instant, and they stopped, growling fiercely, their white
teeth menacing, and their eyes red, as with a smouldering fire.
The next moment a different note was blown from a distance, a shrill,
chirruping note which made the dogs turn and bark. Then one of them set
off at a steady trot, while the other, as if its duty were done,
approached Nic in the most friendly way, with its tail waving from side
to side.
The whistle chirruped again, and the dog gave vent to a sharp bark, as
much as to say, "All right, I'm coming--" and bounded after its
companion.
"Well, we're out of that job, Master Nic. I did wonder at that dog
coming at you zo fierce."
"Set at me, Pete," said Nic quietly, "and education was stronger than
nature. Keep on working now, and pray let me do my hoeing myself."
Pete grunted, and was silent, as he chopped away with his hoe till a
horn was blown up at the house, when the tools were shouldered, and, hot
and weary, the two companions trudged back to their barrack, to partake
of their evening meal together, Humpy Dee and his party sitting quite
aloof, for the feud was stronger than ever.
From that day a change seemed to have come over Nic. It was partly due
to the feeling of returning health, but as much to his growing belief in
Pete's sincerity, and to the conviction that under the fellow's rough
shell there was an earnest desire to serve him and help him to escape
from his terrible position.
The despondency to which he had given way seemed cowardly now, and as
the days rolled on he worked as one works who is determined to make the
best of his position. All the same, though, he joined heart and soul
with Pete in the plans made for getting away.
Drawn closer together as they were now, the subject was more and more
discussed, and in the long talks they had in whispers of a night, they
could not help dwelling on the difficulties they would have to encounter
even if they did manage to escape.
"But we will, Master Nic; you zee if we don't. They both talk about
shooting us, and that zets me up. I don't want to hurt anybody; but
when a man zays he's going to fire at me as if I was a wild beast, I
don't feel to mind what I do to him. Don't you be downhearted; we shall
do it yet."
"But," said Nic, "it is the getting taken in a ship if we manage to find
our way to the coast."
"If we find our way? We've on'y to get that boat. The river will show
us the way down to the zea; and as to getting away then, all we've got
to do is to try and find a ship that wants men."
"They will not take us, Pete; we shall be looked upon as criminals."
"Not if the skipper wants men," said Pete, laughing softly. "Long as a
man can work hard, and is strong, and behaves himself, he won't ask any
questions."
The time went on, and there seemed to be no likelihood of any captain
asking questions; for in spite of keeping a sharp watch, neither Nic nor
Pete could obtain the information they wanted. The boat seemed to
disappear in the most mysterious way after being used by the settler or
his overseer, and Nic grew more and more puzzled, and said so to his
companion.
"Yes, it gets over me zometimes, Master," said Pete; "but one has no
chance. You see, there's always people watching you. It aren't as if
it were on'y the masters and the dogs, and the niggers who are ready to
do anything to please old Zaunders; there's old Humpy Dee and the
others. Humpy's always on the lookout to do me a bad turn; and he hates
you just as much. He's always thinking we're going to get away, and he
means to stop it."
"And this all means," said Nic, with a sigh, "that we must be content to
stay as we are."
"Don't mean nothing o' the kind," said Pete shortly. "It's a nice
enough place, and there's nothing I should like better than staying here
a bit, if we could go about the river and swamp and woods, fishing and
shooting, and hunting or trapping; but one gets too much zun on one's
back, and when it's always chopping weeds with a hoe, and the weeds grow
faster than you can chop, one gets tired of it. Pretty country, Master
Nic; most as good as home, only zun is a bit too warm."
Nic sighed.
"That's 'cause you wants to write letters and get 'em sent, Master Nic,
I know; but don't you worry 'bout that. You can't send letters here
like you do at home, so it aren't no use to worry about what you can't
do. Worry 'bout finding the boat, dear lad; that's better than
letters."
"I have worried about it," said Nic, "but it is of no use till we get a
chance to go and wander about to try and discover where it is kept."
"And that the skipper and old Zaunders won't let us do, you zee," said
Pete quietly. "They're a wicked pair, both on 'em. Might let us loose
a bit on Zundays; but not they. Zunday and week-days all the zame.
They've got us, and they mean to have their penn'orth out on us. Never
thought as I should have all my strength turned into sugar for some one
else to eat. There, work away; old Humpy's watching us, and he'll go
and tell the skipper we're hatching eggs."
Nic smiled, for his companion's good temper and patience were
contagious, but he could not repress a sigh from time to time as he
thought of home; and the beauty of the country, the waving fields of
tasselled Indian-corn or beautiful sugar-cane, with the silver river
beyond, the glorious slopes leading up to the distant blue mountains,
and the gloomy, green, mysterious attraction of the swampy forest
enhancing its attractions to an explorer, did not compensate for the
absence of liberty, though Nic was fain to confess that the plantation
would have been a glorious place for a few months' visit.
The blacks were not friendly, as Nic soon found; but he attributed it to
the stern orders they had received; but now and then one or another made
a little advance, by offering, on the sly, fish or flesh in the shape of
bird or 'possum which he had caught or trapped during the moonlight
nights. For Saunders seemed to pay no heed to the black slaves slipping
away of a night on some excursion.
"'Nuff to make a man wish for a kettle o' tar, or a pot o' black paint,"
said Pete one day. "What for, sir? Just to put on a coat of it, and
change the colour of one's skin. They'd treat us better than they do.
Makes me wish I was a nigger for a bit, so long as I could wash white
when I got away."
"Master Nic," said Pete one night when they were alone in their bunks,
"I aren't going to share that bit o' 'possum."
"What bit of 'possum?" asked Nic, as he lay listening to the low murmur
arising from where Humpy Dee was talking to his fellow-prisoners, who
were all chewing some tobacco-leaf which the former had managed to
secrete.
"Why, you know; that bit old Zamson give me, wrapped up in one o' them
big leaves."
"Oh yes; I had forgotten. Eat it, then; I don't mind."
"Likely, aren't it?" grumbled Pete. "Good as it smells, for them black
fellows do know how to cook a thing brown and make it smell nice. Can't
you zee what I mean?"
"No."
"Want it for the dogs. I'm going to slip off after that boat as soon as
it's a bit later."
"Impossible, Pete. Don't try; you'll be shot at. There is sure to be
one of the blacks outside the door with a musket."
"Let him stop there, then. I aren't going by the door."
"How, then?"
"Climb up here to where I've got a couple o' them split wooden tiles--
shingles, as they call 'em--loose."
"But you can't climb up there."
"Can't I? Oh yes, my lad. There's them knot-holes, and I've got some
pegs cut as fits into 'em, ready to stand on. I can get up easy
enough."
"But the dogs?"
"Well, I smuggled a knife and sharpened it up, and it's tied to my leg
in a sheath I made out of a bit o' bamboo cane."
"But it would be madness to fight the poor brutes, and the noise would
bring out Saunders with a gun."
"Just what I thought, my lad," said Pete, laughing softly; "so I went on
the other tack this month past."
"I don't understand you, Pete."
"I'll tell you, then, my lad," said Pete softly. "I made up my mind to
get you back to the old country, and the on'y way to do it seems to be
to make friends."
"Make friends?"
"That's it. Way that big dog, Gripper, took to you zet me thinking. If
he was zet at you he'd lay hold, 'cause he's been taught to obey orders.
He wouldn't want to, no more than a soldier might want to shoot a man;
but if it was orders he'd do it. Well, I've thought a deal about them
dogs, and dogs is dogs--eh, Master Nic?"
"Of course," said the young man, smiling to himself.
"And dogs has got zweet tooths, Master Nic; on'y the sugar they likes is
a bit o' salt."
"You mean you wanted that piece of roast 'possum to give the dogs if
they came at you."
"That's right, Master Nic. If old Zaunders was shouting 'em on, they
wouldn't take no notice of the meat; but if he waren't there they'd be
friends at once, and eat it. So I'm ready for 'em if they comes after
me."
"And you're going to try if you can find where they keep the boat
to-night?"
"_Sn-n-n-ork_!" said Pete, pinching his arm, and as the deep, low,
snoring went on, Nic grasped the reason.
For there was a faint rustling of the dry corn-leaves, which stopped,
and went on again in the utter darkness, while beyond it the low murmur
of talking continued.
"The talking kept on to cover Humpy's movements," thought Nic. "He has
heard us, and is coming to listen."
Pete snored again, moved uneasily, and began to mutter in a low tone:
"Couldn't throw Humpy Dee?" he said. "Let you see. Better wrastler
than him. _Snore--snurrk_!"
The rustling ceased, and then went on again.
"Where's that there moog o' zyder, lads?" muttered Pete in a dull,
stupid way. "Where's the huff-cap?"
Then he smacked his lips, and said "Hah!" softly, turned himself over,
yawned, and began to snore, keeping it up steadily, while the rustling
went on; but it sounded now as if the man who made it was retiring.
Nic listened, with every nerve on the strain, while Pete kept on the
snoring, and a minute later he made out clearly enough that Humpy Dee
had returned to his companions, and distinctly heard the change in the
conversation, as the man whispered the result of his investigation.
Pete's snore was lower now, and sounded as if it would last; but it did
not, for the next moment Nic was conscious that his comrade was leaning
over him; a pair of lips touched his ear, and a voice whispered:
"He thinks he's clever, but we can be too sharp for him."
"Don't talk any more," whispered Nic softly, "or he'll come back."
"Right," said Pete, and the snoring recommenced. And as Nic lay there
in the darkness, thinking over his companion's words, and feeling that
it would have been madness to have made any attempt to leave the
barrack-like shed, with watchful enemies both within and without, and
the certainty in his mind that Humpy Dee's intention was to betray Pete
so as to get him flogged for attempting to escape, the snoring went on,
with a strange lulling effect. He had toiled hard that day in the
burning sunshine, and had lain down after his supper with that pleasant
sensation of weariness which comes to the healthy and strong; and he had
been feeling a glow of satisfaction and thankfulness for the full
recovery of all his faculties, when Pete had spoken as he did. It was
not surprising, then, that the heavy breathing of his companion should
have the effect it had, and that, just when he was in the midst of
pleasant thoughts of the possibility of escape, he should suddenly pass
from extreme wakefulness into deep sleep, in which he saw the red cliffs
of Devon again, with the sparkling sea, and listened to the soft murmur
of the falls low down in the combe. Back home once more.
Then he opened his eyes with a start.
"I've been asleep," he said to himself, as he listened to Pete's heavy
breathing; "not for many minutes, though," he mused; and then he
wondered and stared, for he could see the cracks and knot-holes of the
wooden building against the grey dawn of the rapidly-coming day.
"Why, I must have been asleep for hours and hours!" he mentally
ejaculated.
Proof came the next moment that it must have been eight hours at least,
for the dull booming bellow of the great conch shell blown by one of the
blacks rang out, and Pete started up in his bunk to stare at Nic and rub
his calf softly.
"Had a good night, Pete?" said the lad.
"Tidy," said the man softly; "but one o' the dogs had me by the leg."
"What! Surely you didn't go?"
"Ay, but I did. He let go, though, when he smelt the roast meat. Smelt
better than raw."
"Pete!" ejaculated Nic, in his surprise.
"Now then, rouse up, all on you," shouted Humpy Dee, "or they'll be
sending in the dogs for us, and the cat for some one else."
"Oh," thought Nic, as a pang of agony shot through him; "that wretch
must have been on the watch."