QUIN, THE RUNAWAY.
Dan had loaded the fowling-pieces with buckshot. Though not a good
marksman, he had some experience in the use of arms, and felt fully
competent to cut off the bloodhounds before they could pounce upon their
human prey. Leaving Cyd at the helm, he went forward and stationed
himself at the heel of the bowsprit.
The dogs were better swimmers than the fugitive, and were rapidly
gaining upon him, for the poor creature's limbs seemed to be partially
paralyzed by the appalling danger that menaced him. The Isabel was
approaching the scene of this exciting race with a rapidity which
promised soon to terminate the affair.
Dan immediately obtained a correct idea of the relative positions of the
dog and the man. His object was to run the boat between them, and thus
cut off the savage beasts from their prey.
"Luff a little, Cyd," said he.
"Luff 'em 'tis," replied the helmsman, who was boatman enough to
understand the nautical phrase, and even to handle the craft under the
direction of a more skilful skipper.
"Steady as she is."
"See here, Dan. Is you gwine to shoot?" asked Cyd.
"Certainly I am. What do you suppose I got the guns for?"
"Possifus! What you gwine to shoot?"
"The dogs, of course. Luff a little--luff! You are letting her fall
off."
"Luff 'em 'tis. See here, Dan. You be mighty keerful you don't hit de
nigger."
"Silence, now, and mind your helm! You are steering wild."
Cyd had so far improved in the cultivation of the quality of obedience
on shipboard, that he did not speak again, but he was fearfully excited
by the stirring scene which was transpiring near him. Dan was not less
moved, though his cool determination produced a different manifestation
of his feelings. He was conscious of the danger to which his
interference in the hunt subjected him. There were probably several
slave-hunters on the track of the fugitive. The Isabel would be seen by
them, and possibly be recognized, which would certainly bring pursuers
upon her track.
But it was not in his nature to permit his suffering fellow-creature, in
this unequal strife, to be conquered by his human and brute antagonists.
The appeal of the gentle Lily had been addressed to a sympathizing
heart, and he entered with all his soul upon the task of saving the
slave from the fangs of his pursuers.
The Isabel had now come within a few yards of the dogs and their prey.
The time for action had come. Dan was fully sensible of the great crime,
as the southern slave law regarded it, of shooting a "nigger dog;" but
with a steady hand, though his heart bounded with exciting emotions, he
raised the gun to his shoulder, and taking deliberate aim at the nearest
hound, he fired. The brute gave a deep yell, and for some time
continued to splash about in the water.
"Don't shoot me, massa! Don't shoot me, and I'll gib myself up," cried
the fugitive, who seemed to have heard the report of the gun, without
observing the effect which the shot had produced.
"I mean to save you," replied Dan, as he levelled the gun at another of
the dogs; but this time he missed his aim, and the hound continued to
swim towards the negro.
"Luff a little more," said Dan to Cyd, as the boat came between the man
and the dogs.
"Luff 'em 'tis."
As the boat now divided the dogs from their prey, Dan did not again load
the guns; but seizing the boat-hook, he gave the foremost hound a knock
on the head, which caused him to retreat, howling with pain.
"Swim this way," cried Dan to the negro. "I will save you."
"Yes, sar," gasped the negro, whose breath was nearly exhausted by the
hard struggle through which he had just passed.
As the Isabel luffed up, the fugitive came alongside, and Dan assisted
him to climb upon the deck.
"O Lord!" groaned he, as he threw himself at full length upon the
forecastle.
"Poor fellow!" sighed Lily, who ran forward to see the sufferer as soon
as he was hauled on board. "What can we do for him?"
"He needs rest. He is all worn out. He may have run for miles before he
took to the water."
"Can't we give him something? There is some cold tea in the cabin."
"I will get him something," added Dan; and he ran aft and entered the
cabin.
He returned in a moment with a bottle and a tumbler. The fugitive still
lay upon the deck, panting and groaning like a dying gladiator after the
mortal struggle of the arena. Freedom was worth the exertion he had
made, though every fibre in his frame had been strained. He had manfully
fought the battle, though without the interference of our party he would
certainly have lost the day. Dan poured out a tumblerful of the wine
which the bottle contained, and placed it at the lips of the sufferer.
He eagerly drank off the draught, and sank back upon the deck.
"He will be better soon. He is all out of breath," said Dan, as he
brought one of the cushions from the standing room and put it under the
poor man's head.
"Gossifus!" shouted Cyd, who still retained his position at the helm,
though his interest in the scene of the forward deck caused him to steer
very badly. "Hossifus!" added he, in gasping tones; "de dogs! de dogs!"
"What's the matter, Cyd?" demanded Dan.
"De dogs! Dey done eat dis chile all up! Dey won't leabe de ghost ob a
grease-spot luff of dis nigger!" cried Cyd, in mortal terror.
"Mind how you steer, then!" replied Dan, hastening to the assistance of
his terrified companion. "Don't you see you have thrown her up into the
wind, so that the sails don't draw a bit!"
"Mossifus! dis chile don't wan't to be food for de dogs."
"You will be, if you don't mind what you are about," said Dan, as he
took the tiller; and putting it up, the boat gathered fresh headway, and
soon shot out of reach of the bloodhounds.
"Why don't you shoot de wicked dogs?"
"I don't want any more noise. I hate the dogs as bad as you do, but we
must be careful," replied Dan. "Now, can you mind what you are about,
and keep the sails full."
"Dis chile kin do dat, for sartin."
"If you don't the dogs will have you. Now, be careful, and I will go
forward, and take care of the poor fellow, who is nearly dead. Watch the
sails; never mind the dogs; they can't catch you, if you sail the boat
properly."
"You kin trus dis chile for dat. Cyd isn't afeerd ob notin, only he
don't want to be eat up by de wicked dogs."
Dan went forward, where Lily was bending over the panting runaway,
rubbing his temples, and speaking sweet words of hope and comfort to
him. In a short time he was in some measure recovered from the effects
of his fearful struggle with the fate that beset him.
"I was sure I was caught, when I saw de boat," said he, as he raised
himself to a sitting posture, and gazed with astonishment at those who
had so singularly proved to be friends, instead of foes.
"Are there any men on your track?" asked Dan, who could not lose sight
of the peril he had incurred by this Samaritan act.
"I speck dar is," replied he. "I hear dem off eber so far, but I don't
see dem."
"Can they chase you on the lake?"
"I speck dey can. Dey'll get a boat and follor de dogs."
"Where are you from?" asked Lily.
"From Major Pembroke's plantation, 'bout ten mile from dese yere parts,
I speck."
"How long since you run away?"
"I luff de place about tree days ago. I stay in de cane-brake till noon
to-day, and git so hungry I could stan it no longer. Den I goes out to
find someting to eat. Den somebody sees me, and dey follow me wid de
dogs. I done kill two of dem dogs, and I kill de rest, but I hear de men
coming, and I run for de lake. I speck, when I git in de water, to frow
de dogs off de scent, but dey git so near dey see and hear me. Dem's
mighty fine nigger dogs, or dey never follor me into de water. I done
gib it all up when I hear dem in de water arter me."
"Did you get any thing to eat when you went out of the cane-brake,"
asked Lily.
"No, missy; I got seen 'fore I find any ting."
"Poor fellow! Then you haven't had any thing to eat for three days?"
"Noting but leabes an de bark ob trees."
"I will give you some supper at once," said Lily, as she hastened to the
cabin.
"Lily!" called Dan. "You mustn't light the lantern, or make a fire."
"Why not?"
"The light would betray us. The slave-hunters will soon be out in their
boat after this man."
"I will not, then."
While Lily was engaged below, Dan provided the runaway with a suit of
his own clothes, which were not much too small for him, as he was a man
of medium stature. He then conducted him to the standing room, for he
was still too weak to walk without support. His supper was brought up,
and he ate cold bacon and potatoes, bread and cheese, till the wondering
Lily thought he would devour their whole stock of provisions, and till
Dan kindly suggested that he would make himself sick if he ate any more.
While he was eating, Dan satisfied his curiosity in regard to the Isabel
and the party on board of her. The runaway, whose name was Quin,--an
abbreviation of Quincy,--listened with astonishment to the story of
these elegant fugitives, who ran away in a yacht, and lived in a style
worthy of a planter's mansion. No doubt he thought their experience was
poetical and pretty, compared with his own, for his flight had been a
death struggle with famine and flood, with man and brute.
In the mean time, the Isabel had run the dogs out of sight, and the
waters in the direction from which she had just come were as still as
death. No doubt the lake would be scoured in search of the fugitive; but
for the present the party seemed to be secure from pursuit.
The boat was now approaching the northern shore of the lake, and it
became necessary to tack. The wind held steady, but light; and Dan had
but small hopes of being able to reach his destination before daylight.
When every thing was made snug on the other tack, and there seemed to be
no present danger ahead or astern, Cyd conducted Quin to one of the
forward berths, and he turned in for the night. The runaway was
evidently a very pious slave, and the young fugitives listened with
reverend interest to the long prayer he offered up before he retired. It
was a pæan of thanksgiving for his escape from the fangs of the
slave-hunters. It was homely speech, but it was earnest and sincere, and
those who listened were deeply impressed by its fervid simplicity.
Dan and Lily sat alone in the stern of the boat, for Cyd had been
permitted to turn in with the runaway. They talked of freedom and the
future for an hour, and then they were started by the sound of oars in
the distance. The slave-hunters were on their track.