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"Then we'll swim the river together, Pete."
"And what about the guns?"
"Leave them on the bank, and come back and fetch them."
"Never find 'em again in the darkness and hurry, my lad. Now, do be zensible."
"I'm master, and I order you to stay."
"Which you aren't master, zir, for we're both zlaves, and if you talk so loud you'll be bringing down the dogs and I'm off."
Almost before Nic could realise it, Pete had slipped across the narrow s.p.a.ce, lowered himself into the water, and swum away, leaving his companion horrified at the sounds he heard. For directly after the man had struck out there was a tremendous wallowing splash, which Nic felt certain had been caused by some monstrous reptile; and he crouched there grasping the guns, with a chilly perspiration breaking out over his brow.
It was some minutes before he thought of the loading, and when he did he could not follow out his instructions for listening and staring across the dark, gliding water, which was full of life, startling him with the belief that Pete had been attacked when some louder splash than usual came from the direction the man had taken. Then the horrible thought came that the poor fellow had been seized the moment he plunged in, and that that loud wallowing noise was when he was dragged underneath. For, though he listened so hard, there was nothing to prove that his comrade was still swimming across the river; and his heart sank at the thought of what would be a most horrible death.
Everything served to depress him more as he crouched there in the enforced inaction; he could hear rustlings in the low water-growth as of reptiles creeping along, the splashes in the river, and all about him the croaking, hooting, and barking of the nocturnal creatures which made the place their home; while, as if these were not sufficient, there was the dread of pursuit, with their enemies hounding on the savage dogs, which might spring upon him at any moment.
"Not without giving notice, though," he said to himself. "What a nervous coward all this has made me! Why, the hounds would begin to bay as soon as they took up the scent."
He listened again; but all was still save a splash or two, and he bitterly repented that they had not thought of some signal--a whistle or the like--to give warning that the river had been successfully crossed.
"He would do it," thought Nic, trying to be firm. "He is a splendid swimmer. Why, it was wonderful what I believe he did when he tried to save me--in irons, too."
Nic paused for a few moments longer to listen to the splas.h.i.+ng which went on; and then, recalling once more his companion's words, he prepared to load the muskets.
But the first he tried proved to be loaded, and, on replacing the ramrod and opening the pan, he found the priming all right. The next proved to be in the same condition; and, once more laying the pieces down, he crouched with his ear near the water to listen to the lapping and splas.h.i.+ng which went on. But there was nothing that he could interpret to mean the movement of an oar or pole on a boat, and his heart began to sink again lower and lower, till wild thoughts arose about his companion's fate.
He would not give harbour to the suggestion that he had been dragged down by the reptiles, but fancied that the boat might be securely padlocked, or that Pete had got it out, and, not knowing the force of the stream, had been swept away past where he should have landed, and with so big and heavy a boat he might not be able to get back. If this were the case Pete would escape, and he would have to go back to his prison.
"No, he would not forsake me," muttered Nic, with a strange glow about his heart as he thought of the man's fidelity to his cause; and he had just come to this conclusion when he heard a rustling behind him as of some creature creeping up. It was forgotten, though, the next moment, for unmistakably there was the sound of an oar whis.h.i.+ng about in the water, as if someone had it over the stern and, fisherman fas.h.i.+ons was sculling the boat towards the bank.
Then for a moment Nic was doubtful, for the sound ceased.
"It was one of the alligators," he muttered through his teeth, "and the poor fellow--"
There was a faint chirrup off the river, and once more Nic's heart beat wildly as he answered the signal. Then the sculling began again, the rustling was repeated somewhere behind where Nic crouched, and he felt for the muskets to take them up.
"Whatever it is, I shall be aboard in a moment or two," he thought, with a strangely wild feeling of exultation; for he heard the oar drawn in, the head of the boat suddenly appeared close at hand, and it was run into the muddy, reedy bank a couple of yards away, while Pete leaped ash.o.r.e with the painter.
"Now!" cried a loud voice, when, with a rush, half-a-dozen men sprang upon them from the bed of reeds and a fierce struggle began.
CHAPTER THIRTY.
MAKING FRIENDS OF ENEMIES.
The struggle was very fierce but short. Nic fought his best, and, in spite of the excitement, wondered at his strength. He was encouraged, too, by Pete, whom he heard raging and tearing about; and, hard pressed as he was, he yet had a thought for his companion.
"Never mind me, Master Nic," he shouted. "Zwim for it--the boat. Never mind me."
Then his voice was smothered, and there was the sound of a heavy fall, but the struggle went on.
"Hold on!" came the voice of the overseer, giving his orders; and then that of the settler:
"Give in, you scoundrels!" he raged out. Then fiercely, "Hold their heads under water, boys, if they don't give in."
"All done now, sah," panted Samson, with his lips close to Nic's head, for he was across his prisoner's chest, and a couple of the blacks were holding his legs.
"Yes, we must give up, Master Nic," cried Pete. "I've got five loads o'
black stuff sitting on me."
"Have you your whip with you, Saunders?" cried the settler.
"No, sir; I wish I had. But it is hanging by the door, and we can give them a better taste by daylight."
"You use it on him," roared Pete fiercely, "and I'll kill you."
"Silence, you scoundrel!" cried the settler, "or I'll have you gagged as well as ironed. I warned you both of what would happen if you tried to escape."
"Lucky for them I let loose the black dogs instead of the brown," cried the overseer. "We should not have had the trouble of taking them back.
Tie their hands behind their backs, Samson, and have the irons ready as soon as we get to the house."
"Got no rope, sah."
"What!" cried the settler. "Why didn't you bring some, you black fool?"
"No time, sah," said the black humbly. "Soon as dat ugly ruffyum, Humpy, come knock at door and say dey 'scape, Zerk call me quite sharp, an' I come tell you, and dey fetch de boy and have 'em back. Me no t'ink 'bout no rope, sah; on'y t'ink dey go swim for de boat and catch 'em first."
"Quite right," said the settler more calmly. "There, one of you go in front of each man, and two others take fast hold of a wrist on each side. c.o.c.k your pistols, Saunders."
There was a sharp clicking sound.
"Walk behind that big scoundrel, and if he makes the slightest attempt to escape send a bullet through him. I'll look after this one. Pity we didn't stop to loose the dogs. Ready?"
"Iss, sah," came from Samson, as Nic felt a strong hand like a live handcuff upon each wrist.
"Lead on, then."
"You be very careful, please, ma.s.sa; no make mistake and shoot dis boy."
"Oh yes, I'll take care."
The march back began, and at the second step Nic felt that a cold ring of iron had been pressed between his shoulders--the pistol-muzzle resting upon his skin where the s.h.i.+rt had been torn down from neck to waist.
He could not suppress a s.h.i.+ver, for the heat and pa.s.sion of the struggle had pa.s.sed away, leaving him weary, aching, and depressed.
But in a few minutes the pistol-muzzle was withdrawn, it being awkward for the holder to walk over the rough ground and keep it there; and the prisoner marched on between his black warders as patiently as Pete in front, thinking perhaps the same ideas.