"WE SHALL HAVE TO TRUST HIM."
"Whatever is the matter with that cow?" cried Aunt Georgie, as they sat
at their evening meal the next day. "Why is she lowing like that? It's
my poor Jersey, and--goodness gracious, what is the matter with her
tail?"
"Tail!" shouted the captain, springing up as the cow came clumsily
cantering up, followed by all the rest of the cattle, who added their
lowing to the Jersey's mournful bellow. "Tail! Here, quick, Jack--
boys, the guns; the poor creature has been speared."
It was plain enough. Speared, and badly, for the weapon stood firmly
just in front of the poor animal's tail, in spite of the frantic gallop
in which she had sought for relief.
"I can't leave the poor beast like this, Jack," cried the captain.
"Cover me if you see any one stealing up. No; there is no need. I can
see it all plainly enough."
The cow did not run away from him as he went close up, and with a sharp
tug dragged out the clumsy weapon, tearing his handkerchief afterward to
plug the horrible wound.
"Will she get better, father?" asked Norman.
"I hope so, boy. I don't think the point can have reached any vital
part. But you see, don't you?"
"Only the wound, father. What do you mean?"
"I'm afraid this is your friend Shanter's bit of revenge for my blow."
"Oh no, father," cried Rifle, indignantly. "Poor old Tam o' Shanter
would not be such a brute."
The captain smiled, and shrugged his shoulders. "Here, let's get all
the beasts into the enclosure," he said. "We do not want any more to be
speared;" and sending two of the boys forward to open the rails, the cow
was gently driven in, the rest of the stock following patiently enough
to the very last.
"Well," said Uncle Jack, emphatically, "I don't think I'm a vicious man,
but I honestly wish that the vile wretch who threw that spear had been
well gored by the animal in return."
"So do I, uncle," cried Rifle, warmly, "for I'm sure it wasn't
Shanter.--What do you think, Tim?"
"I don't know," replied the boy. "I hope it wasn't; but as Uncle Edward
says, it does look very black."
"Bah! You're black," cried Rifle, fiercely.--"You don't think it was
Shanter, do you, Man?"
"I don't want to think it was," replied his brother, thoughtfully, "but
it does look very bad."
This was while the captain had walked up to the house to order the
ladies to stay within doors, promising in return that he would be very
careful, and not run into any danger.
"Looks very bad!" cried Rifle, contemptuously. "I only wish I knew
where old Shanter was. I'd go and fetch him to make him tell you that
you ought all to be ashamed of yourselves."
"You need not trouble," said Uncle Jack, quietly, "for here he comes;"
and as the captain's brother spoke he cocked his double gun.
"And here comes father," cried Norman, excitedly. "Don't fire, uncle,
pray."
"Not if I can help it, boy, but look at the fellow; he has been painting
himself, and means war."
In effect Shanter's black body was streaked with white, as if to imitate
a skeleton, and as he came running toward them from the scrub below the
precipice, he looked as if his spear was held threateningly in one hand,
his club in the other.
As the black came running from one direction, the captain ran toward
them from the other, shouting to Uncle Jack and the boys to fall back,
while just then Sam German came out of the garden armed with a
pitchfork, the first thing likely to act as a weapon.
But Shanter was the swiftest of foot, and he was within twenty yards,
when Uncle Jack presented his piece and shouted: "Stop! Throw down that
spear."
Shanter hesitated for a moment, and then dug the point of his spear into
the ground, and ran up shouting: "Hi, Marmi, black fellow come along!
Kimmeroi--bulla, bulla--metancoly." (One, four, ever so many.)
The captain gazed at him suspiciously.
"Where?" he said.
"Black fellow all along," cried Shanter, who seemed to have quite
forgotten the past night's quarrel and the blow, and he pointed in
several directions across the precipitous ridge.
"You saw them?"
"Yohi. Run tell Marmi. Black fellow come all along, spear bull-cow."
Norman saw his father's brow contract, for the last words sounded very
suspicious, and the lad asked himself whether this was a piece of
cunning on the part of the black.
But just then Shanter caught sight of the spear lying upon the ground,
where it had been thrown by the captain after he had drawn it from the
cow's back.
The black made a dash and pounced upon it, his movement to secure the
weapon putting both the captain and his brother on their guard, as they
watched the fellow's movements.
As soon as he had the weapon in his hand, he examined the point, still
wet with blood, looked sharply from one to the other, and then excitedly
pointed to the spear end.
"How this fellow come along?" he cried.
"Some one threw it, and speared the little cow," cried Rifle.
"Where little bull-cow fellow--go bong?"
"No; in the paddock. Did you throw that spear, Shanter?"
"Mine throw? Baal!" cried the black. "Plenty mine spear," and he
pointed to where his own spear stuck in the ground.
"I can't trust him, Rifle, my boy," said the captain, firmly. "I'm
afraid it is his work, and this is a cunning way of throwing us off the
scent."
The black listened eagerly, and partly comprehended.
"Marmi no pidney. Think mine spear bull-cow. Baal, baal throw."
He shook his head violently, and then running back and recovering the
other spear--his own--he stood attentively watching the scrub, his eyes
wandering along the ridge and from place to place as if in search of
enemies.
"What do you say, Ned?" whispered Uncle Jack; "are you going to trust
him?"
"No, I cannot yet," said the captain. "We must be thoroughly on our
guard."
"The poor fellow has proved himself a faithful servant, though."
"What? That colt?"
"A boy's freak. He did not behave dishonestly."
"Well, I do not trust him yet Jack; but I may be wrong. Let's
reconnoitre."
"Where all white Mary?" said Shanter, turning back suddenly.
"In the house," said Norman. "Why?"
"Black fellow metancoly all plenty. Come mumkull."
At that moment Mrs Bedford appeared at the door, and stepped out, but
stopped as Shanter uttered a fierce yell and gesticulated, imitating the
throwing of a spear and battering of some one's head.
"Baal white Mary come along," he cried, running to the captain. "Marmi
say go along."
"Run and tell your mother and the rest to keep in the house," said the
captain sharply to Rifle, and the black nodded in satisfaction; but he
grew furious again, and seized the captain's arm as he made a movement
toward the patch of scrub and trees which had concealed the blacks, when
the raid was made upon the flour.
"Baal go along," he cried. "Hah!"
He threw himself into an attitude as if about to hurl a spear, for just
then, a couple of hundred yards away, a black figure was seen to dart
from behind a solitary patch of bushes to run to the bigger one in
front. As he reached the broader shelter another followed him, and
another, and another, Shanter counting them as they ran.
"Kimmeroi--bulla-bulla, kimmeroi-bulla, bulla--bulla, bulla, kimmeroi."
"Five," said Norman, excitedly.
"Yohi," cried the black, nodding. "Marmi baal go along?"
"No," said the captain, quietly. "We had better retire to the house. I
think we can give them a warm reception there."
"Shoot! Bang, bang!" cried Shanter, grinning. "Ow--ow--ow!"
He held his bands to his head after dropping his weapons as he yelled,
ran round in a circle, staggered, fell, kicked a little, and lay quite
still for a few moments as if dead. Then leaping up, he secured his
weapons, shook them threateningly at the little grove, and urged all to
go up to the house.
"We shall have to trust him," said the captain. "Come along, Jack.--
Now, boys, I'm afraid this is war in earnest, and the siege has begun."
"Plenty black fellow," shouted Shanter, excitedly, as he pointed in a
fresh direction, where three or four heads were seen for a minute before
they disappeared among the trees.
"And no time to be lost," cried the captain.--"German, while we can, go
up and begin filling what tubs you can with water in case the enemy
tries to cut off our supply. We will cover you."
"Right, sir," said the gardener, and he ran up to the house with his
fork over his shoulder, while the others followed more leisurely,
keeping a sharp look-out.
"Come along," cried Shanter, as they reached the house. "Shut fass.
Black fellow baal come along. Big white Mary gib mine damper now."
Five minutes later he was eating some bread with a contented smile on
his countenance, while Tim and Norman kept watch, and the others busied
themselves closing the shutters and carrying in blocks and slabs of
wood, reserved for such an emergency, and now used as barricades for
windows and loop-holed doors.
All worked vigorously, provisions were rolled in from the storehouse,
though that was so near that its door could be commanded if a fresh
supply was required. Fence gates were closed and fastened, the
water-supply augmented, and at last the captain turned to the pale-faced
women who had been helping with all their strength, and said:
"There, we need not fear blacks a hundred strong. All we have to do now
is to come in, shut and bar the door, roll two or three of the casks
against it, and laugh at them."
"But I don't feel happy about my kitchen," said Aunt Georgie.
"No: that is our weakest place," said the captain; "but I'll soon set
that right.--See anything of them, boys?" he cried to the sentries.
"No, not a sign."
"Metancoly black fellow all along a trees," said Shanter, jumping up,
for he had finished his damper.
"Can you see them?" cried the captain.
"Baal see black fellow. Plenty hide."
He illustrated his meaning by darting behind a barrel and peering at the
captain, so that only one eye was visible.
"Yes, I see," cried the captain. "Get up.--Now, good folks, some
dinner. I'm hungry. Cheer up. We can beat them off if they attack,
which I hope they will not."
"So do I," said Norman in a whisper to Rifle; "but if they do come, we
must fight."
"Yes," said Rifle; "but they will not come fair. I'm afraid they'll try
to take us by surprise."
"Let 'em," said Tim, scornfully. "If they do, we must try and surprise
them."