_ CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
A pair of warm lips at my ear made me start again.
"Dey all 'tupid, dem Injum. I know dey nebber tink we get up tree. Think we run home. All gone. Come down."
"No, no; it is not safe," I whispered.
"Yes; all gone dat way. We go oder."
He was already descending almost as rapidly as a monkey, and I followed as fast as I could, fully expecting to be seized; but all was silent, and the fire had sunk quite low as we bent down and crept along by the edge of the opening, and directly after were well in the shelter and darkness of the trees, with the fire behind only making its presence known by a dull glow.
"Where are you going?" I whispered at last.
"Get away from Injum. Come!"
He said this shortly, and I began thinking that it was our wisest course to get right away, and, as soon as we could find a spot at daybreak, cross to the other side, and then try to thread our way back home. But a curiously dull, deadening feeling came over me, as I felt that the Indians must now get there first, and that we should be too late to give the alarm.
I was just thinking this when Pomp stopped short.
"Mass' George take off um shoes," he whispered. "Carry um. Injum no see footmarks a-morrow."
I hurriedly did as he suggested, for there was wisdom in what he said, and I hoped that the print of my stockinged feet, if our trail was found and followed, might pass for the impressions made by moccasins.
I did not know much then about such matters, but still I had heard a good deal of talk about the skill of the Indians in tracking, and naturally felt nervous as I immediately began magnifying their powers, and fancied that as soon as it was day they would take up our trail like a pack of hounds, and follow it step by step, first my clumsy shoe-prints, then Pomp's bare feet, with the great toe spreading wide out from the others, which all seemed long and loose, as I had often noticed and laughed at when I had seen them in the mud or sand. In fact, I had more than once followed him by his footprints, and as I recalled all this, I seemed to see the fierce-looking savages coming on swiftly, and urged Pomp to make haste, though my heart sank as I felt that every step took us farther into the wilderness, and with the exception of the knife the boy had secured, we were without arms.
"Can't go no fasser, Mass' George," he said; "so dark. But done you be 'fraid. Dem on'y 'tupid savage. Pomp too clebber let um cotch him 'gain."
In spite of my anxiety I could not help smiling at my companion's conceit, and his reference to "'tupid" savages. Pomp's connection with civilisation was making its mark upon him in other ways beside the rapid manner in which he had acquired our tongue.
And so we tramped on hour after hour, going, as I knew by the stars whenever we got a glimpse of them, nearly due west, and trying to avoid breaking branch or trampling down thick patches of growth by making a detour.
Of course this hindered us a good deal, but still it was the surest way of avoiding recapture; and at last, after our long, weary walk, whose monotony I had relieved by softly chafing my arms and wrists to get rid of the remains of the numbness produced by the bonds, there came a familiar note or two from the trees overhead, and I knew that in a very short time it would be light.
"Tired, Pomp?" I said.
"No, Mass' George, but I dreffle hungly 'gain. Oh! Dem ugly tief 'teal de gun. No get duck for breakfass, eh?"
"Let's think about escaping and getting back to the house before these savages.--Ah, it's getting light."
I remember how eagerly I said this, as I saw the pale grey appearing through the leaves, and making the tall, gloomy-looking trunks stand up like great columns in all directions.
"Now," I said, "where do you think the river is?"
"Ober dah," said Pomp, without a moment's hesitation; and he pointed to the left.
"Is it far?"
"No, not far."
"Let's get to it at once then."
We struck off again, bearing to the left, and just at sunrise found that we were at the edge of the forest once more, with a well-defined track, showing where the river ran. Where we stood we were under the shade of the great trees, where scarcely anything grew beneath the spreading, tangled branches, while just beyond them there was a dense thicket of succulent growth glittering in the sunshine, where the leaves were still moist with dew, and some hundred or a hundred and fifty yards away there once more was the other edge of the forest, rising up over a rich band of growth similar to that which was close to where we stood.
The river lay between, I knew, though invisible from where we stood; and for the moment I felt more hopeful, for, after the long, dark tramp through the wilderness, we seemed to be now on the broad high-road which led straight past home.
Then my heart sank again, as I felt that perhaps the Indians were already on our track, and that even if they were not, they were between us and safety.
My reverie was interrupted by Pomp, who said briskly--
"Now, Mass' George, what you tink?"
"We must get across the river at once."
Pomp made a grimace.
"How we 'wim ober dah wid de 'gator all awaiting to hab us for breakfass, Mass' George?"
I shuddered as I thought of the task, but it seemed as if that was the only thing to do, and then tramp along the opposite bank downward.
"What are you doing?" I said, as the boy began to step about, cautiously penetrating once more into the forest, and stopping at last beside a moderate-sized pine, whose trunk was dotted with the stumps of dead branches, till about fifty feet from the ground, where it formed a pretty dense tuft, whose top was well in the sunlight.
"Now we go up dah and hide, and rest a bit."
"But why not try that tree, or that, or that?" I said; and I pointed rapidly to three or four more, all far more thickly clothed with branch and foliage.
"If Injum come he fink p'raps we hide in dah, an' look. No fink we get up dat oder tree. Injum berry 'tupid."
"But hadn't we better try and get across or down the stream?"
Pomp shook his head.
"See Injum, and dey dreffle cross dat we run 'way. Wait a bit, Mass' George."
"But my father--yours--and Morgan?"
"Well, what 'bout um, Mass' George?"
"We ought to warn them."
"Dey must take care ob demself. No good to go and be caught. Dat not help um fader."
There was so much truth in this that I did not oppose Pomp's plan of getting up in the tree, and hiding until the pursuit was over. For it was only reasonable to suppose that after a thorough hunt in one direction, the Indians would come in the other. Besides, I was utterly wearied out the previous evening, and glad to rest my tired limbs by hanging against the rope, and taking the weight off my feet. Since then we had tramped through the night many dreary miles, made more painful by the constant stress of avoiding obstacles, and the sensation of being hunted by a pack of savages whose cries might at any moment rise upon the ear.
It was not a comfortable resting-place for one who felt as if he would give anything to throw himself down and lie at full length, but it promised to be safe, and following Pomp's lead, I climbed steadily up the tree to where the dense head formed quite a scaffolding of crossing boughs, and here, after getting well out of sight of any one who might be passing below, we seated ourselves as securely as possible, and waited for what was to come next.
"Wait Injum gone, and we kedge fis' and roast um for dinner," said Pomp; and then we sat for some little time in silence, listening for the slightest sound.
Birds we heard from time to time, and now and then the rustle of a squirrel as it leaped from bough to bough, but nothing else till there were, one after the other, four ominous splashings in the river, which gave me a very uncomfortable feeling with regard to crossing to the other side, and I looked at Pomp.
"Dat 'gators," he said shortly. "No 'wim cross de ribber."
Then quite a couple of hours must have passed, and Pomp began to fidget about terribly, making so much noise that if the Indians had been anywhere at hand, they must have heard.
"Hush!" I said; "sit still."
"Can't, Mass' George," he said sharply. "I so dreffle hungly."
"Yes, so am I. What are you going to do?"
"Get down again. Injum no come now."
I hesitated; and as I was heartily sick of waiting, and famished, I made myself believe that our enemies were not pursuing us, and descended quickly to look at my companion.
"What we do now, Mass' George--kedge fis?"
"If we can," I said; "but how?"
"Pomp show Mass' George."
He led on through the thick growth just outside the forest edge, and looking sharply from side to side, soon pitched upon a couple of long, thin, tapering canes, which he hacked off and trimmed neatly, so that they formed a pair of very decent fishing-rods, and he looked at me triumphantly.
"Dah!" he said.
"But where are the hooks and lines?"
Pomp's face was wonderful in its change.
"Wha de hookum line?" he said.
"Yes, you can't catch fish like that."
Scratching the head when puzzled must be a natural act common to all peoples, for the boy gave his woolly sconce a good scratch with first one hand and then the other.
"Dat berry 'tupid," he said at last; "Pomp no 'tink of dat. What we do now?"
I stood musing for a few minutes as puzzled as he was. Then the bright thought came, and I took the lighter of the two canes, cut off the most pliant part, and then tearing my silk neckerchief in thin strips, I split the end of the cane, thrust in the haft of the knife, so that it was held as by a fork, and bound the cane tightly down the length of the knife-handle, and also below, so that the wood should split no farther; and as the knife was narrow in blade, and ran to a sharp point, we now had a formidable lance, with shaft fully twelve feet long.
"There!" I said triumphantly in turn, as I looked at Pomp.
"'Tick um froo de fis?" he said.
"Yes. We must find some deep pool, and see if we cannot spear something, so as to be food for the day."
"Mass' George 'tick um fis, Pomp find um."
I nodded, eager enough to try and get something in the way of food, so that we might be better able to bear our day's journey, for I felt that somehow we must get back; but I always hesitated from starting, lest we should be seen by pursuing Indians, and being recaptured, have no chance of giving the alarm at home.
Pomp was not long in finding a deep hole close under the bank, in whose clear, tree-shaded water I could see about a dozen fish slowly gliding about. They were only small, but anything was food for us then; and introducing my lance cautiously, I waited my opportunity, and then struck rapidly at a fish.
Vain effort! The fish was out of reach before the point of the knife could reach him; and a few more such strokes emptied the hole, but not in the way I intended.
"Find another," I said; and Pomp crept along, and soon signed to me to come.
As he made way for me, and I crept to the edge, I felt a thrill of pleasure, for there, close under the bank, just balanced over some water-weed, was a fine fish about a foot and a half long.
"If I can get you," I thought, "we shall do."
Carefully getting my spear-shaft upright, I lowered the point, and aiming carefully, I struck.
Whether I aimed badly, or the refraction of the water was not allowed for, I cannot say, but there was no result. I only saw a quivering of the surface and the fish was off into the river.
The same result for a dozen more tries, and then Pomp said protestingly--
"I nebber tink dat ob any good."
"But it is good if I could strike one," I said, testily.
"Um on'y tummle off 'gain, Mass' George."
"Never mind; try and find another good hole, I'll do it yet."
He gave his head a rub and went on along the river-side, peering among the overhanging bushes, and one way and another we made a trail that any one could have followed; but likely holes and pools were scarce now, and I was getting hot, faint, and weary, when, after creeping close to the edge of the stream again, Pomp signed to me to give him the lance.
I hesitated for a moment, not liking to give up, but ended by passing the spear; and, taking it, Pomp lay flat down, crept to the edge where the bank overhung the river, as it proved, very gently thrust his eyes beyond, drew back, and quickly picked a good-sized bunch of long grass, which he bound at one end, opened the bunch at the other, and put it on like a cap, the result being that the long grassy strands hung right over his face loosely.
He laughed at me, and crept back again, moving his head slowly to and fro for a few moments, as if to get the occupants of the pool used to his presence.
Then very slowly and cautiously he manipulated the lance shaft, so that it was upright, and holding it with both hands lowered the point down and down till six feet had disappeared, then seven, eight, nine at least; and as I was thinking how deep it must be down there, the long cane became stationary, with the boy's hands holding it above his head.
I stood leaning forward, wondering what luck he would have, and full of hope, for I was too hungry to feel envious and hope that he would miss. But still he did not strike, and the moments glided on till I was getting quite out of patience, and about to creep forward and look down to see how big the fish might be, when, quick as thought, down went the shaft with a tremendous dig, and then, with the cane quivering exceedingly, Pomp seemed to be holding something he had pinned tightly down against the bottom, till its first fierce struggles were at an end.
"Got him?" I exclaimed, joyfully.
"Pomp 'tick knife right froo um," he panted; and then springing up, he rapidly drew the shaft from the water, hand over hand, till, to my intense astonishment, he raised to the bank, muddy, dripping, and flapping heavily, the largest terrapin I had seen, and putting his foot upon it, he drew out the spear, which had transfixed it right in the middle of the back.
"Dah!" he exclaimed; and seizing his capture, he led the way into the forest, where, risking discovery, we soon had a fire of dead sticks and pine-needles blazing merrily over the shell of our terrapin, off which we made at last, if not a good meal, a sufficiently satisfying one to give us spirit for trying to get back home. _