Mass' George Part 75

"Thank you, old lad."

"Yes! Thank you, Hannibal, for saving my life," I whispered.

"Ma.s.s' George save Han's life," was the reply in deep tones. Then the smile pa.s.sed from the great fellow's face, and a terrible expression came over it again as his eyes rolled round, and he said in a deep, low, muttering voice--

"Come--quick find Pomp."

"And I was just going to say, let's make a run now for the boat," said Morgan. "But we can't leave the boy, Master George."

"No," I said. "Here, take your gun, Han."

I pa.s.sed the firelock to him, and followed his gaze as he glared round among the trees from behind whose trunks I expected to see the enemy peering, ready to take revenge for the death of their companions. But there was no one near as far as I could see, and we rose cautiously to get a better view round through the cl.u.s.tering boughs whose heavy foliage cut off the light, so that we were gazing down glorious vistas that ended far away in the deepest shade.

"Might hide an army there, and no one could see 'em," muttered Morgan.

"Find Pomp?" said Hannibal, looking at me inquiringly.

"Yes," I said; "try and find him. Go on."

The great fellow drew a deep breath, and led off at once with the firelock in his left hand, the axe in his right; and I knew that if we had a fresh encounter, the modern weapon would be useless in his hands, while the axe would be terrible.

To my great horror, the course he chose was out by where the desperate struggle had taken place, and my first instinct was to close my eyes and not look at the dead Indians; but I told myself I was a soldier's son, and that these men had fallen as we were fighting for our lives. But it was very terrible to see them lying there as they had fallen, two of them still grasping their weapons, and with a look of savage hatred in their faces.

Hannibal led on, Morgan followed, and I was last, and I was beginning to feel glad that we were leaving the dead behind, where they lay beneath the great cypress, when Hannibal turned round and raised his axe to point as it seemed to me in the direction of the forest beyond the garden, and to my horror it appeared as if the man had been seized with a fresh desire to shed blood, for his great lips were drawn away from his glistening teeth, his eyes opened widely showing broad rings of white round the dark irides, and throwing up the axe ready to strike, he dropped the gun and literally bounded at me.

With a faint cry of horror as I saw the awful-looking object leaping at me, the firelock dropping from his left hand, and the blood glistening on his great arms, I dropped sidewise just as a knife flashed by my cheek and over my left shoulder.

It was then that I realised the truth, and drew my breath hard, as I saw Hannibal's axe descend; there was a terrible cras.h.i.+ng sound and a heavy fall, and as, sick and seeing dimly, I looked down to my left, the great figure of the black was bending over a grinning object in the bushes at the forest edge, his foot was pressing back one of our enemies, and he dragged the axe free.

"Is he dead now?" Morgan whispered, hoa.r.s.ely, and his face looked ghastly as he caught me by the arm.

Hannibal uttered a low deep sound, and drew himself up to his full height. Then he bent down again, and I saw him tear a glittering knife out of a brown hand, which with its arm rose above the bushes and was clinging still to the haft.

"Morgan," I said, faintly, as the great black strode back toward where we had had the struggle first, "stop him. What is he going to do?"

"I want to stop him, lad," whispered the faithful fellow, in low, awe-stricken tones; "but I can't try; I daren't. It must be done."

"But that was another Indian," I whispered, as I saw Hannibal bend down, rise up, take a step or two, and bend down again, and then everything swam before my eyes. I could hear Morgan's voice though as he went on--

"It was horribly near, sir," he said. "It wasn't another Indian, but one of those shamming dead, and as soon as we'd got by he must have crawled after us, and old Han turned just in time, and went at him as he was striking at you with his knife. It's very horrid, my lad, but these savages don't understand fair fighting and giving quarter to the wounded. There, come away, and don't look angry at the black when he comes back. He has just saved your life again, and what he is doing now is to make sure you are not attacked again."

I stood speechless, resting on the piece I held in my hand till the great negro came back with the knife stuck in his waist-belt, to stoop and pick up the gun he had dropped; and then he pointed again with the axe toward the forest beyond the garden.

"Come," he said, quietly. "Find Pomp."

He looked at me once more with so grave and kindly an aspect that I tried to smother the horror I felt, and taking a step or two forward, I drew out a handkerchief and pointed to his bleeding arms, which were gashed by two blows of axe and knife.

He smiled and nodded half contemptuously as I tore the handkerchief in two, and he held out his arms one by one for me to bind them tightly.

"Now," he said, "find Pomp."

I held up my hand and we listened to a low, hoa.r.s.e, gurgling noise, which seemed to come from a distance in the forest, and I shuddered as I fancied for a moment that it must be one of the Indians dying; but I knew that the sound came from a different direction.

We listened intently as we stooped under cover and kept a watchful gaze in every direction for danger. But the sound had ceased and for the moment we were safe, for no leaf was stirring, and the deep shadowy wood appeared to be untenanted. Hannibal shook his head, and was in the act of turning when the curious hoa.r.s.e gurgling sound came again.

It was like nothing I had ever heard before, and what was more strange, it was impossible to make out whence it came, for it rose and fell, rose again, and then died out.

"What is it?" I said to Morgan. "An Indian cry?"

"No," he replied. "Hark! There it is again."

Yes; there it was again, but appeared to be from a fresh direction.

"Is it something down amongst the bushes--a frog or a young 'gator?"

"No; I don't think it can be that, sir. I've heard nearly every sound they make, and it isn't anything like that."

All was still again, and we moved on slowly farther into the forest, going cautiously in and out among the trees, our weapons ready, and a strict look-out kept for the enemy. For it seemed to me that the main body could not be far off, our encounter having been with a skirmis.h.i.+ng party.

"There again," I whispered. "What is it, Hannibal?"

He was kneeling down now listening; and as he looked up at me, I could see that he was puzzled, for he shook his head.

"Han done know," he said.

Again the sound came--a hoa.r.s.e, gurgling, faint noise, as from a great distance, but somehow we were as far off from understanding what it meant as ever.

"Never mind," said Morgan. "It isn't what we are looking for. Go on, Han; we must find that boy, and escape for our lives."

The great black nodded and started off at once, Morgan and I going to right and left of him, and we searched through the great trees, working away round the opening cleared from the forest for our house, but though the sound continued, we could find no trace of the cause nor yet of the poor boy, who had dropped completely out of sight.

My heart sank as I felt sure that the Indians must have surprised him, and moment by moment, as we started again into the forest, making now toward the rattlesnake clearing and the path leading to the landing-place, I expected to come upon him lying dead where he had been struck down.

But we examined the place again and again in every direction without success, and we were neither of us sufficiently skilled to attempt in the gloom beneath the trees to find him by his tracks.

The sound had nearly ceased now, only occurring faintly at intervals, and still it was as confusing as ever, for we could not make out whence it came.

At last we stopped at the edge of the rattlesnake clearing, near where the path struck out leading to the water-side.

"What are we to do, Master George?" said Morgan. "I want to find that boy, and at any moment we may be attacked by enemies, and it seems to be our duty to get down to the boat, row back as fast as we can, and give warning that the Indians are still near at hand."

"Yes, go," said Hannibal, who had been listening intently to Morgan's words. "Boat. Injum. Han 'top find um boy."

Morgan looked at me, but I shook my head.

"No," I said; "we will not go--we cannot, and leave him here. Will you come, Hannibal?"

"To find um boy," he said, frowning.