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Mass' George Part 37

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Very little was said for some time, every one being glad of the calm and silence, and drawing in the genial warmth which was delicious to our cramped and thoroughly weary limbs.

And as I sat there, gazing out over the waters at what seemed to be a vast lake, it did not appear like a scene of desolation, for the sunbeams danced on the rippled water, or turned it to a glittering mirror, where it flowed calm and still; the trees stood out at intervals all green and beautiful; and the forest beyond the clearings, though dwarfed, was unchanged. Now and then a fish flashed out like a bar of silver, and the birds twittered, piped, and sang as if nothing had happened. It was only the poor human beings who were helpless, and beginning to feel, now that the excitement had pa.s.sed, the pangs of a trouble that it was impossible to meet.

One of my first acts, as soon as I began to grow dry and warm, was to take my knife from my pocket and cut a notch in the tree just on a level with the water.

Pomp looked at me and then shook his head.

"No," he said; "no, Ma.s.s' George, no get sug gum dah, an' Pomp dreffle hungry."

"I know that," I said, rather surlily, for my notch was not meant for the purpose he thought, and I knew the difference between a cypress and a sugar maple.

"Den what for cut um tree?"

"To see whether the water is rising or going down."

"Not do nuffum," said the boy, eagerly. "'Top so."

"Yes, he is right," said my father, who had been higher up the tree, trying to get a glimpse in the direction of the settlement, in the hope of help in the shape of a boat being on the way. "The flood seems to have reached its highest point, and we may begin to hope that it will go down now."

But the hours glided by and there was no help, and no sign of the flood sinking. Pomp was quite right; it did "'top so," and we began to suffer keenly from hunger.

We had long got well warm in the suns.h.i.+ne, and the thirst we felt was easily a.s.suaged, though there was very little temptation to partake of the turbid water; but our sensations of hunger grew apace, and I saw that while we white people sat there about the fork of the tree, trying to bear our sufferings stoically, both the blacks were in constant movement, and they had always something to say, Hannibal confining his remarks however to his son.

"Look, look!" cried Pomp, excitedly; "dah um fis. No got hook.u.m line, no got net."

He shook his head despondently, evidently quite oblivious of the fact that even with hook and line he had no bait, and that it was impossible to use a net.

Then he was off up the tree, first ascending one great bough and then another, to lean out, staring away between the twigs in search of something, but he always came down again looking quite disconsolate.

"What have you been looking for?" I said on one of these occasions.

"Simmon tree, Ma.s.s' George. No see one nowhere 'bout."

"But you couldn't get there if you could see them."

"No get um?" he said with a laugh. "Pomp no get um? Wait a bit."

"Why, how could you manage?"

"No manage 'tall. 'Wim dah, and 'wim back."

Then we scanned the waste of waters in the hope that we might see something, even if it was only some drowned animal, but nothing came in sight till well on in the afternoon, when Hannibal made some remark which sent Pompey into a tremendous state of excitement.

"What is it?" I cried, eagerly rising from where I had been down to examine my notch, to find that the water remained nearly unchanged.

"Pomp and um fader see some fis' good to eat," said the boy. "Come see."

I climbed up to where he was, and he pointed; but for some time I could make out nothing but driftwood, a tree floating roots upward, and some great patches of gra.s.s that seemed to have been scooped out of a bank, roots and all.

"I can't see anything," I said at last.

"What, not dah?" cried Pomp.

"No."

"All 'long side dat tree?"

"Oh, yes," I cried; "what is it--a big fish?"

"No; dat nice lil 'gator, sah."

"What? Why, we couldn't eat alligator."

"Oh, yes; eat um, got nuffum else," cried Pomp, to my great disgust.

"But even if you would eat the nasty wretch, you can't catch it."

"No," said Pomp. "Tell um fader can't catch. Pomp wish dat, but lil 'gator, see um come on, c.o.c.k um tail up and go right to de bottom. Oh, oh, Ma.s.s' George, I so dreffle hungry. Feel as if um eatum own fader."

There was something so comic in the poor fellow's trouble that I could not forbear smiling as I went along to where Morgan was seated quietly enough by Sarah, and I felt something like anger and disgust as I saw that the former was eating something.

"Oh, Morgan!" I said, sharply; "if I had had something to eat I would have shared it."

"Isn't much, but you shall have some if you like, sir. Sarah here won't touch it."

He took a flat bra.s.s box out of his pocket, opened it, and held it to me.

"Tobacco!" I said, looking with disgust at the black, twisted leaf.

"Yes, sir, 'bacco keeps off the hunger."

"I'd rather have the hunger," I said; and he shut the box with a snap.

Restless as Pomp now, and growing more and more miserable, I climbed to where my father was sitting watching one break among the trees in the direction of the settlement, and he turned to me with a smile.

"Tired and hungry?" he said. "Yes, I know. But patience, my boy, patience. Our lives have been spared, and help may come at any moment."

"But do you think we shall escape?"

"Why not?" he said, calmly. "We were in much greater peril last night."

"Yes, father," I said; "but we weren't half so hungry."

My remark brought the first smile I had seen to his lip for hours.

"Yes, yes; I know," he said; "but patience. I think we shall soon see the water begin to fall, for when I was at the settlement yesterday, the tide was turning and going down about this time. If it does not take with it the inundation, we must divide ourselves into two parties, one to sit and watch while the other sleeps. By to-morrow the flood will either have fallen, or help will have come."

"Sleep, father!" I said, dolefully; "who can sleep at a time like this?"

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Mass' George Part 37 summary

You're reading Mass' George. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): George Manville Fenn. Already has 602 views.

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