Donalblane of Darien Part 6

So completely did the panther cover him that Mr. Sutherland dared not fire, lest the bullet should penetrate both bodies; but he sought a chance to use the b.u.t.t of his musket on the brute's head, while the Indian made play with his spear, stabbing it into the creature's side.

Meantime Donalblane, into whose shoulder the terrible teeth had sunk while the merciless claws were tearing his clothes to ribbons, fighting for his life, with both hands buried in the soft, thick fur, strove frantically to throttle his mighty a.s.sailant.

Had he been alone there could have been no doubt as to the issue of the struggle--the panther must have done him to death; but the stunning blows from Mr. Sutherland and the repeated stabs of the Indian's spear soon began to tell.

They had not only weakened the brute's strength, but they turned his attention from Donalblane to his other opponents, and, after a s.p.a.ce of time that seemed an eternity to the boy, but was in reality barely a minute, the panther, giving a hideous growl, relaxed both teeth and claws in order to prepare for a spring at Mr. Sutherland.

This gave the latter the opportunity for which he had been waiting. He was an expert shot, and never had had more need of his skill than at this moment. Quickly throwing his gun to his shoulder, and aiming full at the panther's breast, he pulled the trigger.

Happily the musket did not miss fire, and the heavy charge sped straight to its mark, going clean through the animal's heart. With one last fiendish scream the fearful creature sprang straight up into the air, and fell back a limp, lifeless ma.s.s of fur. Not waiting to look at his quarry, Mr. Sutherland rushed to Donalblane, who lay senseless on the sward, with the blood streaming from nearly a score of wounds.

"My poor boy," he exclaimed, as he took Donald's head upon his knees, "surely that black brute has not killed you!" Then to the Indian, who was wonderingly examining the panther, he called indignantly, "Leave that thing alone, and get me some water--quick!"

When the Indian returned with the water Mr. Sutherland tenderly washed the boy's wounds, which he was glad to find were none of them very deep--those made by the teeth on the shoulder being the worst--and did his best to bind them up with handkerchiefs and what other linen was available, the Indian proving a very helpful a.s.sistant. Before it was quite done Donalblane recovered consciousness, and at first was so dazed that he had no idea as to what had happened.

"What's the matter?" he asked, starting to put his hand to his head, and then dropping it because of the pain in his shoulder. "I'm verra sore. Ah! I ken--I ken--that awfu' black thing. I fair thought it wad kill me." And he groaned deeply, for his sufferings were keen.

"Not a bit of it, my boy," responded Mr. Sutherland cheerily, as he patted his pale cheek. "You're not even half killed, and that awful black thing is killed completely. But you've had a very narrow escape, and you've got some nasty wounds, and you must keep very quiet here until we can get you back to St. Andrews."

Mr. Sutherland was a man of thought as well as of action, and it did not take him long to arrange matters. The Indian was dispatched to the settlement with a note telling what had happened, and asking that a litter be sent back for the sufferer. In the meantime he himself would stay by the wounded boy until the litter arrived.

Happily they were not at the time a very great distance from St.

Andrews. Another Indian, having been promised liberal payment if he was very quick, ran the whole way thither, and the litter party lost not a moment in making the return trip. It was indeed well for Donalblane that they were so prompt, for he presently began to be feverish, and to require the utmost skill of the physicians who had accompanied the expedition to combat the effect of the serious wounds he bore. There was great sympathy felt for him, as he was a general favourite, owing to his bright, frank, manly ways; and both Mr.

Paterson and Mr. Sutherland were as concerned about him as if he had been their own child.

Even with the best of care some weeks must elapse before he would regain his former vigour, and while he lay in his hammock, a not too docile and submissive patient, affairs went on not at all prosperously at St. Andrews.

Although absent only a week, Mr. Paterson found on his return that a spirit of discontent and dissension had already broken out in the colony. All the men were not workers. Some were useless drones, and those who had toiled hard laying the foundation of the new city began to grumble and protest. There was no settled or acknowledged authority. Once the novelty of the situation had pa.s.sed away, Mr.

Paterson ceased to be looked up to and obeyed, and it seemed impossible for any one to be agreed upon as supreme governor.

The settlement certainly presented a curious appearance at this time.

Over a thousand persons, all foreign to the soil, were lodged in rude wooden huts roofed with palmetto leaves, the inside furnishing of which were of the simplest description. Chests and lockers did duty for seats and tables; tartan shawls of brilliant hues, hung up as curtains, formed the only part.i.tions; spades, mattocks, axes, and hatchets littered the walls, while carefully disposed in the dryest corners were the claymores and muskets which formed their weapons of defence.

One large building was set apart for public worship, and here services were daily held by the Presbyterian ministers, several of whom had accompanied the expedition, and were much given to lengthy sermons.

Another building was the storehouse, to which the provisions brought out by the ships were removed. Now, mention has already been made of advantage being taken by those who supplied the expedition to palm off much inferior stuff than they had contracted to furnish; and this rascality became revealed when it was discovered that the greater part of the stores, upon which the colonists must depend until they had raised their own harvests, was absolutely unfit for human food, and had to be cast into the sea, where it attracted swarms of sharks that henceforth infested the harbour, rendering its waters full of danger.

This was a terrible blow to the hopes of the settlers, who were already disappointed at the failure of their expectations in the matter of gold, which they had counted upon being able to obtain in abundance, whereas all the gold they had seen were the ornaments of the King of Darien.

It was determined to dispatch one of the ships to the island of Jamaica for a fresh supply of provisions, and in the meantime, through the influence of Mr. Paterson, the King of Darien placed the services of a large body of Indian hunters at his disposal, and these men, through their knowledge of the country and their skill, were able to secure game and fish in abundance when the Scotsmen could get nothing.

As soon as Donalblane had recovered from his wounds, nothing daunted by his thrilling experience, he devoted himself to hunting, as that suited his taste far better than tilling the ground or working on the fortifications.

Keen of eye, quick of ear, light of foot, long of wind, and well-nigh tireless, he set himself to learn from the Indians their hunting wiles and devices, and was so apt a pupil that ere long he became a match for the best of them, particularly as his musket and pistols, always kept in perfect order, were immensely superior weapons to their spears and arrows.

The magnificent region round about afforded a hunting-field vast and varied enough to satisfy the most exacting sportsman. The forests were full of animals, from the amusing, harmless monkeys up to the fierce wild boar or the terrible jaguar; while the waters fairly teemed with fish, from the delicious mullet up to the gigantic manatee, or sea-cow--if this can be properly called a fish. The first time Donalblane saw a manatee he was filled with amazement--it seemed so huge, so hideous, so extraordinary a monster; but when he got over his first surprise, he became possessed with the notion of adding one to his list of trophies.

"Do so, by all means," said Mr. Paterson, when he mentioned his purpose to him. "The manatee's flesh, in spite of the creature's ugly appearance, is equal to the best pork, and we cannot have too much of it for our hungry people."

"Then I'll just do my verra best to get ye one, and maybe two, for they tell me they are in plenty up yon river," said Donalblane, pointing towards the so-called Golden River.

"Good luck to you, my lad," rejoined Mr. Paterson, patting him on the shoulder. "Be sure that the chief hunter goes with you, for the manatee can give plenty of trouble, if you do not know how to handle him."

Donalblane promised to be sure of having Raymon, whose heart he had already won by various little kindnesses, and hastened off to make arrangements for a start the following morning. He had no difficulty in securing the co-operation of Raymon, who was only too glad to join him, and who undertook to procure a canoe and two of the best paddlers in his tribe. Accordingly, at dawn of the next day Donalblane set out on his hunt for a manatee.

CHAPTER X.

THE CHASE OF THE MANATEE.

Several hours' steady paddling brought the hunting party, ere the full heat of the day, to a part of the river where the banks were densely clothed with mangroves, broken here and there by bayous, whose shallow bottoms were lush with rank vegetation.

"We get him there," said Raymon, pointing to one of these bayous.

"When sun going down. Plenty of manatee in dat place."

Donalblane was impatient to begin the hunt right away; but Raymon knew his business better, and so they sought a landing in one of the cool, dark recesses of the mangrove forest, and, after eating their lunch, lay down for the inevitable siesta.

It was well on in the afternoon before Raymon p.r.o.nounced it time to get to work, and, thrilling with eagerness, Donalblane took his place in the stern of the canoe, his musket ready for a quick shot, while Raymon crouched in the bow, holding a harpoon to which was attached a long, thin rope. Noiselessly the expert paddlers sent the canoe over the bosom of the bayou, turning this way and that, in accordance with whispered directions from Raymon, whose keen eyes searched the still waters in front.

Several times Donalblane thought he saw ripples which suggested the presence of their prey, but Raymon took no notice of them, and he was beginning to grow impatient, when, at a signal from the Indian, the paddlers suddenly plied their blades with tremendous energy, and the light craft shot ahead at an amazing pace.

Donalblane could perceive nothing to explain this action, but rejoiced at it nevertheless, and held his musket in readiness to fire.

On dashed the canoe, and presently Raymon rose in the bow, harpoon in hand, and poised himself for a throw. Still Donalblane could make out nothing, and he marvelled at the keenness of the Indian's vision, until suddenly, not twenty yards in front of the canoe, the smooth surface of the water was broken by the emergence of the hideous head and broad shoulders of a monstrous manatee.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "PRESENTLY RAYMON ROSE IN THE BOW, HARPOON IN HAND."]

"Hurrah!" shouted the boy, quivering with excitement. "There he is; and, my sakes, what a big fellow! Shall I fire at him, Raymon?"

But Raymon, without turning round, intimated by a warning gesture of his free hand that Donalblane was to keep still, and the latter was accordingly fain to curb his impatience.

In spite of his clumsy form, the manatee had a wonderful turn of speed, and the sinewy paddlers strained every nerve to bring Raymon within striking distance. The creature was evidently making for the deeper waters, and if he succeeded in doing this before the harpoon struck him, there was a good chance of his effecting his escape. For a few minutes the issue of the race seemed much in doubt, and then, to Donalblane's delight, the canoe began to gain. Yard by yard it drew nearer, until at last, raising the harpoon as high as he could, Raymon, with the whole strength of his arm, hurled it at the manatee.

It was a splendid throw, and the keen barb buried itself deep in the thick, wrinkled grey hide, while at the same moment the stricken creature sank out of sight, leaving a stain of blood upon the water.

"Grand!--grand!" cried Donalblane, putting down his gun for a moment that he might clap his hands enthusiastically. "Ah! I wad like fine to be able to do that."

Raymon's usually sombre countenance lit up with a pleased smile, as he replied--

"We got him all right, if rope no break."

When, a moment later, the manatee, having recovered from the first shock of the wound, set off through the water at a rapid pace, towing the well-laden canoe as though it was a trifle, Donalblane began to wonder if the rope, which was only a thin one, would stand the strain.

But Raymon did not appear at all anxious about it.

Straight out towards the deep water went the manatee, and as the canoe ploughed through the water in its wake, Donalblane thought that this must be something like the whale-hunting about which some of his sailor friends at Leith had told him such thrilling tales.

For a full half-mile the powerful creature kept on, rising every now and then to the surface for breath, and sinking again as soon as relieved. But presently its speed began to slacken, and Raymon was able to get a pull upon the rope, which brought the canoe nearer.