Mass' George Part 27

"Yes, sah, and I want um fader to hoe um yam while I go kedge terrupum.

You make big holler at um for not do um."

"Now then, look you, Master George, oughtn't this fellow to be flogged?"

"You say no, Ma.s.s' George, and--"

Morgan darted out a hand to catch Pomp's arm, but the boy was too quick, and dodged behind me.

"Let him be," I said; "he doesn't know any better."

"But I want to teach him better," grumbled Morgan.

"Hist! Ma.s.s' George. I find great 'gator."

"Where?" I asked, eagerly, for I had long had an idea that I should like to see another of the monsters.

"Down by de ribber. All lay long so, out in de hot sun."

Pomp threw himself on the ground, and wallowed along a little way. "All along so, sah, while I done kedge de terrupum, and then all along tell Ma.s.s' George come and shoot um."

"How big was it?" I said, eagerly.

"Big as ebber so much. Come on, see um, Ma.s.s' George."

"It's only some little one, half as big as the one we pulled out of the hole," said Morgan. "You never want to go on them games now you've got that black chap."

"Oh, I'll go with you any time, if you'll come."

"Too busy, sir, too busy. Going to get a gun?"

"Yes, I'll go and see. It may be a big one. Colonel Preston's man told me there are some very big ones up the river on the mud-banks."

"Yes, sir, but n.o.body ever sees them."

"Well, I'll try this time, and if my father asks for me, say where I've gone."

I heard Morgan mutter something, but paid no heed, knowing that it was something about being careful with the gun, for I was not without my share of conceit and belief in my capacity of taking care of a gun. For my father had rather encouraged me to practise with his fowling-piece, as also with one of the heavy fire-locks we had in the house.

"An emergency might come," he said; and what with his instructions and those of Morgan, I was, if not a good marksman, as fairly expert as could be expected from a boy of my years.

I soon had the gun from its slings, and, providing myself with powder and ball, rejoined Pomp, whose eyes rolled with excitement at the sight of the piece.

"Me carry de powder shot bag," he cried, eagerly; and I let him sling the pouches over his shoulder, and followed behind him, as he marched off with head erect, and a look of pride that was ludicrous. He was, as a rule, a creature apparently made up of springs, which were always setting him in motion; but when bound upon any shooting or fishing excursion the natural pride in his brain rose above everything else, and I was often turned into quite a secondary personage, and had to obey.

It was so upon this occasion, for just as we reached the edge of the forest he stopped short, and in a stern whisper said--

"'Top here and load um gun, or wake ole 'gator where um sleep."

I obeyed, of course, ramming home a bullet, and as I was in the act of removing the rod from the barrel, Pomp suddenly exclaimed--

"Top um bit."

He ran off at full speed, and came back with his eyes flashing, and flourishing a small axe which he had fetched from the shed. This he directly after thrust into his belt, and holding up his hand, whispered--

"Now, no make noise. I go first."

He went on, leading me through the drier part of the swamp, and right away from the river, to my great wonderment; but after walking silently about half an hour he stopped, again held up his hand, and then with the greatest of caution crept on through the bushes, and in and out among the swamp-trees, never making the slightest sound, and I followed as well as I could for about a quarter of an hour, when he signed to me to stop, and I knew by the bright light a little farther on that the river was pretty near.

The next moment he was down flat, crawling slowly over the mossy ground, looking back to see if I was watching him, and pausing at last close to a gnarled old tree, which he tried to keep between him and the water.

I had been watching him lying there for about five minutes, when I became aware of the fact that he was returning as silently as he had gone, and as he reached me he put his lips to my ear.

"'Gator sleep in de mud. Ma.s.s' George, crawl up to de big tree, look 'long gun, and shoot um."

I was skilled enough then in the huntsman's craft to know what to do, and divesting myself of hat and boots, I went down and crawled cautiously in the trail made by the boy, trying hard to go as silently and with as little effort, but the nervous excitement set my heart beating, and by the time I reached the great gnarled tree I felt breathless, and my hands trembled exceedingly.

I lay quite still for a few minutes before venturing to do more, and then inch by inch I drew myself sidewise, and peered round the rugged trunk of the tree.

The next moment I was quite paralysed by the surprise I felt, for there, not twenty feet away from the spot where I lay, was a monstrous alligator, evidently fast asleep on a glistening mud-bank, his trail from the water being distinctly marked in the soft mud. There were the prints of his paws, and of his long tapering tail, and I could do nothing but gaze at his great proportions.

As far as I could judge he was about fourteen feet long, but evidently of great age, from his bulk, his h.o.r.n.y hide banded and barred and corrugated, while the strength of such a beast must be, I knew, tremendous.

How long I watched the sleeping monster I cannot tell, but it was some time before I woke up to the fact that I had come on purpose to put an end to its destructive career, and that I had a gun ready charged in my hand lying close alongside.

Then with my heart beating fast I slowly pushed the barrel forward, resting it upon one of the mossy b.u.t.tresses at the tree-trunk, my eyes fixed all the time upon the great closed and smiling mouth, and the peculiar heavily-browed eyes.

As if I were moved by something that was not myself, I gradually got the gun into position, grasping it firmly and pressing the b.u.t.t home, while I carefully sighted the monster, wondering a little what the consequences would be if I missed, whether I should be attacked, and whether I should have time to get away. But directly after every sense was concentrated upon the task I had in hand, and just as I was about to draw trigger the creature quickly raised its head, as if suspecting the nearness of danger.

I was well ready though now, and raised the barrel of my gun slightly, pressed it against the tree, and fired.

There was the roar of the gun, a tremendous kick on the shoulder, and beyond the heavy sour-smelling smoke by which I was surrounded I heard a tremendous splashing and thrashing noise, accompanied by heavy blows, as if the monster was striking hard at something near.

But I lay perfectly still, feeling that the wounded monster would on seeing me make a spring, and if it did I knew that my life was at an end.

The splashings and the dull beating sound continued, but I kept behind the sheltering tree, now wondering whether the creature would have strength to get back into the river, or whether it would be there waiting for its a.s.sailant. At last, fascinated as it were by the desire to peep round the tree-trunk which sheltered me from my victim, I gently peered out, and stared in astonishment, for there was Pomp busy at work with his axe cutting off the reptile's head, while the tail kept writhing and lashing the stream, alongside which it had nearly crawled.

"Dat's got um," cried Pomp. "Hi! Ohey! Ma.s.s' George."

I was already on my legs, and, gun in hand, I parted the bushes, and joined the boy just as the monster gave a tremendous heave and a writhe, and rolled off the bank with a tremendous splash in the water.

"Ah, you no kedge fish and eat um no more, eh, Ma.s.s' George?" he cried.

"'Gator no good widout um head, eh?"

I looked down on the mud, and there, sure enough, lay the creature's head.

"Why, Pomp!" I exclaimed; "what have you been doing?"

"Cut off um head, Ma.s.s' George. He no like dat."