The Quadroon Part 57

One thought alone gave me hope. They would soon find our resting-place of the night; they would see where we had slept by the pawpaw-leaves and the moss; they could not fail to be certain of all that; but would they so easily trail us thence? In our search after the horses, we had tracked the woods in all directions. I had gone back to the bye-road, and some distance along it. All this would surely baffle the dogs for a while; besides, D'Hauteville, at starting, had left the pawpaw thicket by a different route from that we had taken. They might go off on _his_ trail. Would that they might follow D'Hauteville.

All these conjectures pa.s.sed rapidly through my mind as we hurried along. I even thought of making an attempt to throw the hounds off the scent. I thought of the _ruse_ practised by the Bambarra with the spray of the loblolly pine; but, unfortunately, I could not see any of these trees on our way, and feared to lose time by going in search of one. I had doubts, too, of the efficacy of such a proceeding, though the black had solemnly a.s.sured me of it. The common red onion, he had afterwards told me would be equally effective for the like purpose! But the red onion grew not in the woods, and the _pin de l'encens_ I could not find.

For all that I did not proceed without precautions. Youth though I was, I was an old hunter, and had some knowledge of "woodcraft," gathered in deerstalking, and in the pursuit of other game, among my native hills.

Moreover, my nine months of New-world life had not all been pa.s.sed within city walls; and I had already become initiated into many of the mysteries of the great American forest.

I did not proceed, then, in mere reckless haste. Where precautions could be observed, I adopted them.

A strip of marsh had to be crossed. It was stagnant water, out of which grew flags, and the shrub called "swamp-wood" (_Bois de marais_). It was knee-deep, and could he waded. I knew this, for I had crossed it before. Hand in hand we waded through, and got safe to the opposite side; but on entering I took pains to choose a place, where we stepped at once from the dry ground into the water. On going out, I observed a like precaution--so that our tracks might not appear in the mud.

Perhaps I should not have taken all this trouble, had I known that, there were "hunters" among those who pursued us. I fancied the crowd I had seen were but planters, or people of the town--hurriedly brought together by Gayarre and his friends. I fancied they might not have much skill in tracking, and that my simple trick might be sufficient to mislead them.

Had I known that at their head was a man, of whom Gabriel had told me much--a man _who made negro-hunting his profession_, and who was the most noted "tracker" in all the country--I might have saved myself both the time and the trouble I was taking. But I knew not that this ruffian and his trained dogs were after us, and I did my utmost to throw my pursuers off.

Shortly after pa.s.sing the marsh, we crossed the "big bayou" by means of its tree-bridge. Oh! that I could have destroyed that log, or hurled it from its position. I consoled myself with the idea, that though the dogs might follow us over it, it would delay the pursuers awhile, who, no doubt, were all on horseback.

We now pa.s.sed through the glade, but I halted not there. We stopped not to look upon its bright flowers--we perceived not their fragrance. Once I had wished to share this lovely scene in the company of Aurore. We were now in its midst, but under what circ.u.mstances! What wild thoughts were pa.s.sing through my brain, as we hurried across this flowery tract under bright suns.h.i.+ne, and then plunged once more into the sombre atmosphere of the woods!

The path I remembered well, and was able to pursue it without hesitancy.

Now and then only did I pause--partly to listen, and partly to rest my companion, whose bosom heaved quick and high with the rude exertion.

But her glance testified that her courage was firm, and her smile cheered _me_ on.

At length we entered among the cypress-trees that bordered the lake; and, gliding around their ma.s.sive trunks, soon reached the edge of the water.

We approached the fallen tree; and, climbing up, advanced along its trunk until we stood among its moss-covered branches.

I had provided myself with an instrument--a simple joint of the cane which grew plenteously around, and which with my knife I had shaped after a fas.h.i.+on I had been already taught by the Bambarra. With this I could produce a sound, that would be heard at a great distance off, and plainly to the remotest part of the lake.

Taking hold of the branches, I now bent down, until my face almost touched the surface of the water, and placing the reed to my lips, I gave utterance to the signal.

CHAPTER SEVENTY TWO.

THE SLEUTH-HOUNDS.

The shrill whistle, pealing along the water, pierced the dark aisles of the forest. It aroused the wild denizens of the lake, who, startled by such an unusual sound, answered it with their various cries in a screaming concert. The screech of the crane and the Louisiana heron, the hoa.r.s.e hooting of owls, and the hoa.r.s.er croak of the pelican, mingled together; and, louder than all, the scream of the osprey and the voice of the bald eagle--the last falling upon the ear with sharp metallic repet.i.tions that exactly resembled the filing of saws.

For some moments this commotion was kept up; and it occurred to me that if I had to repeat the signal then it would not have been heard. Shrill as it was, it could scarce have been distinguished in such a din!

Crouching among the branches, we remained to await the result. We made no attempts at idle converse. The moments were too perilous for aught but feelings of extreme anxiety. Now and then a word of cheer--a muttered hope--were all the communications that pa.s.sed between us.

With earnest looks we watched the water--with glances of fear we regarded the land. On one side we listened for the plas.h.i.+ng of a paddle; on the other we dreaded to hear the "howl" of a hound. Never can I forget those moments--those deeply-anxious moments. Till death I may not forget them.

Every thought at the time--every incident, however minute--now rushes into my remembrance, as if it were a thing of yesterday.

I remember that once or twice, away under the trees, we perceived a ripple along the surface of the water. Our hearts were full of hope--we thought it was the canoe.

It was a fleeting joy. The waves were made by the great saurian, whose hideous body--large almost as the pirogue itself--next moment pa.s.sed before our eyes, cleaving the water with fish-like velocity.

I remember entertaining the supposition that the runaway _might not be in his lair_! He might be off in the forest--in search of food--or on any other errand. Then the reflection followed--if such were the case, I should have found the pirogue by the tree? Still he might have other landing-places around the lake--on the other side perhaps. He had not told me whether or no, and it was probable enough. These hypothetic conjectures increased my anxiety.

But there arose another, far more dreadful, because far more probable--

_The black might be asleep_!

Far more probable, because night was his day, and day his night. At night he was abroad, roaming and busy--by day he was at home and slept.

Oh, Heavens! if he should be asleep, and not have heard the signal!

Such was the terrible fancy that rushed across my brain.

I felt suddenly impelled to repeat the signal--though I thought at the time, if my conjecture were correct, there was but little hope he would hear me. A negro sleeps like a torpid bear. The report of a gun or a railway-whistle alone could awake one. There was no chance for a puny pipe like mine--the more especially as the screaming concert still continued.

"Even if he should hear it, he would hardly be able to distinguish the whistle from--Merciful heavens!"

I was speaking to my companion when this exclamation interrupted me. It came from my own lips, but with involuntary utterance. It was called forth by a sound of dread import--a sound that I could hear above the shrill screaming of the birds, and hearing could interpret. It was the trumpet-like baying of a hound!

I stood bent, and listening; I heard it again. There was no mistaking that note. I had the ears of a hunter. I knew the music well.

Oh, how unlike to music then! It fell upon my ears like a cry of vengeance--like a knell of death!

I thought no longer of repeating the signal; even if heard, it would be too late. I flung the reed away, as a useless toy. I drew Aurore along the tree, pa.s.sing her behind me; and raising myself erect, stood fronting the land.

Again the "gowl" broke out--its loud echoes rolling through the woods-- this time so near, that every moment I expected to see the animal that had uttered it.

I had not long to wait. A hundred yards off was a cane-brake. I could perceive a motion among the tall reeds. Their tops swayed to and fro, and their hollow culms rattled against each other, as they were jerked about, and borne downward. Some living thing was pressing through their midst.

The motion reached their verge--the last canes gave way, and I now saw what I had looked for--the spotted body of a hound! With a spring the animal came forth, paused for a moment in the open ground, and then, uttering a prolonged howl, took up the scent, and galloped forward.

Close upon his heels came a second; the waving cane closed behind them, and both ran forward in the direction of the log.

As there was no longer any underwood, I had a full view of their bodies.

Gloomy as the place was, I could see them with sufficient distinctness to note their kind--huge, gaunt deer-hounds, black and tan. From the manner of their approach, they had evidently been trained to their work, and that was _not_ the hunting of deer. No ordinary hound would have run upon a human track, as they were running upon ours.

The moment I saw these dogs I made ready for a conflict. Their huge size, their broad heavy jaws, and ferocious looks, told what savage brutes they were; and I felt satisfied they would attack me as soon as they came up.

With this belief I drew forth a pistol; and, laying hold of a branch to steady me, I stood waiting their approach.

I had not miscalculated. On reaching the prostrate trunk, he scarcely made a pause; but, leaping upward, came running along the log. He had dropped the scent, and now advanced with eyes glaring, evidently meditating to spring upon me.

My position could not have been better, had I spent an hour in choosing it. From the nature of the ground, my a.s.sailant could neither dodge to the right nor the left; but was compelled to approach me in a line as straight as an arrow. I had nought to do but hold my weapon firm and properly directed. A novice with fire-arms could hardly have missed such an object.

My nerves were strung with anger--a feeling of intense indignation was burning in my breast, that rendered me as firm as steel. I was cool from very pa.s.sion--at the thought of being thus hunted like a wolf!

I waited until the muzzle of the hound almost met that of the pistol, and then I fired. The dog tumbled from the log.

I saw the other close upon his heels. I aimed through the smoke, and again pulled trigger.