I had been but a few minutes in this state of unconsciousness, when I
was awakened by a plunge, as of some one leaping into the pond. I was
not startled sufficiently to look around, or even to open my eyes.
"Jake is having a dip," thought I; "an excellent idea--I shall take one
myself presently."
It was a wrong conjecture. The black had not leaped into the water, but
was still upon the bank near me, where he also had been asleep. Like
myself, awakened by the noise, he had started to his feet; and I heard
his voice, crying out:
"Lor, Massr George! lookee dar!--ain't he a big un? Whugh!"
I raised my head and looked towards the pond. It was not Jake who was
causing the commotion in the water--it was a large alligator.
It had approached close to the bank where we were lying; and, balanced
upon its broad breast, with muscular arms and webbed feet spread to
their full extent, it was resting upon the water, and eyeing us with
evident curiosity. With head erect above the surface, and tail stiffly
"cocked" upward, it presented a comic, yet hideous aspect.
"Bring me my rifle, Jake!" I said, in a half whisper. "Tread gently,
and don't alarm it!"
Jake stole off to fetch the gun; but the reptile appeared to comprehend
our intentions--for, before I could lay hands upon the weapon, it
revolved suddenly on the water, shot off with the velocity of an arrow,
and dived into the dark recesses of the pool.
Rifle in hand, I waited for some time for its re-appearance; but it did
not again come to the surface. Likely enough, it had been shot at
before, or otherwise attacked; and now recognised in the upright form a
dangerous enemy. The proximity of the pond to a frequented road
rendered probable the supposition.
Neither my companion nor I would have thought more about it, but for the
similarity of the scene to one well-known to us. In truth, the
resemblance was remarkable--the pond, the rocks, the trees that grew
around, all bore a likeness to those with which our eyes were familiar.
Even the reptile we had just seen--in form, in size, in fierce ugly
aspect--appeared the exact counterpart to that one whose story was now a
legend of the plantation.
The wild scenes of that day were recalled; the details starting fresh
into our recollection, as if they had been things of yesterday--the
luring of the amphibious monster--the perilous encounter in the tank--
the chase--the capture--the trial and fiery sentence--the escape--the
long lingering pursuit across the lake, and the abrupt awful ending--all
were remembered at the moment with vivid distinctness. I could almost
fancy I heard that cry of agony--that half-drowned ejaculation, uttered
by the victim as he sank below the surface of the water. They were not
pleasant memories either to my companion or myself, and we soon ceased
to discourse of them.
As if to bring more agreeable reflections, the cheerful "gobble" of a
wild turkey at that moment sounded in our ears; and Jake asked my
permission to go in search of the game. No objection being made, he
took up the rifle, and left me.
I re-lit my "havanna"--stretched myself as before along the soft sward,
watched the circling eddies of the purple smoke, inhaled the narcotic
fragrance of the flowers, and once more fell asleep.
This time I dreamed, and my dreams appeared to be only the continuation
of the thoughts that had been so recently in my mind. They were visions
of that eventful day; and once more its events passed in review before
me, just as they had occurred.
In one thing, however, my dream differed from the reality. I dreamt
that I saw the mulatto rising back to the surface of the water, and
climbing out upon the shore of the island. I dreamt that he had escaped
unscathed, unhurt--that he had returned to revenge himself--that by some
means he had got me in his power, and was about to kill me!
At this crisis in my dream, I was again suddenly awakened--this time not
by the plashing of water, but by the sharp "spang" of a rifle that had
been fired near.
"Jake has found the turkeys," thought I. "I hope he has taken good aim.
I should like to carry one to the fort. It might be welcome at the
mess-table, since I hear that the larder is not overstocked. Jake is a
good shot, and not likely to miss. If--"
My reflections were suddenly interrupted by a second report, which, from
its sharp detonation, I knew to be also that of a rifle.
"My God! what can it mean? Jake has but one gun, and but one barrel--he
cannot have reloaded since? he has not had time. Was the first only a
fancy of my dream? Surely I heard a report? surely it was that which
awoke me? There were two shots--I could not be mistaken."
In surprise, I sprang to my feet. I was alarmed as well. I was alarmed
for the safety of my companion. Certainly I had heard two reports. Two
rifles must have been fired, and by two men. Jake may have been one,
but who was the other? We were upon dangerous ground. Was it an enemy?