Mass' George Part 49

"What time can it be?"

"Dunno, Ma.s.s' George, o'ny know not morrow mornin' yet."

I looked about me, and tried to make out the forest path by which we should have to go; but all was dark as night could be, except overhead where a faint gleam showed where the moon should have been giving her light, had not the clouds and mist interposed.

I did not like the look of it, but on the other hand I was afraid to give up; I knew that my father would be anxious, perhaps setting out in search of me.

That last thought fixed me in my determination, and taking up the gun, I said firmly--

"Come along."

"Ma.s.s' George go shoot somefin?"

"No; let's get back home."

"No get home now. Too dark."

"But we must get home."

"Ma.s.s' George say muss get home, but de dark night say he no get home."

"Let's try," I said.

Pomp was obedience itself, and he followed me as I strode back to the edge of the forest, entered the dense thicket close to the river, and had not gone a hundred yards before just in front of me there was a crashing, rustling noise, and a dull sullen plunge.

"I yah, ugly ole 'gator. Take care, Ma.s.s' George, he don't hab you."

I felt my heart beat fast, but I tried to fix it upon my mind in the foremost place that the reptiles fled from me, and were perhaps more alarmed than I was; but as I pressed forward, Pomp suddenly said, piteously--

"No got shoe like Ma.s.s' George. Poor Pomp put him foot in 'gator mouf.

Oh!"

Pomp caught hold of me tightly, for from somewhere in front there came a low snarling roar, which I had never before heard; but report had told of different savage creatures which came down from the hills sometimes, mountain lions, as the settlers called them, and to face one of these creatures in the dark was too much for my nerves.

"It's unlucky," I said to Pomp; "but we can't get back to-night. We had better get out from among the trees."

Pomp wanted no second hint; he was behind, and he turned at once, and led the way back to the sandy bluff, where he stood shivering.

"What was dat, Ma.s.s' George?"

"I don't know," I said. "Some kind of great cat, I suppose."

"Pomp tink he know. It great big monkey like in him country. Great big as fader, and big long arm, an um shout _ooooor_! Like dat."

He uttered as deep-toned a roar as he could, and made a s.n.a.t.c.h at me directly and held on, for from out of the forest came an answering roar that sounded terrific to us, as we stood there shivering with cold and fear.

"Ma.s.s' George! Ma.s.s' George!" whispered Pomp, with his lips close to my ear, "tell um I berry sorry. I no do um no more."

"Hush!" I said, and I stood ready with the gun presented, fully expecting to see a dark shadowy form crawling over the light-coloured sand, and trying to get within range for a spring.

But all was still once more, and we waited in expectancy for some minutes before there was a great floundering splash in the water to our right; and then away to the left where the river ran black and mysterious in the night--where all was bright and beautiful by day-- there came evidently from three different parts as many bellows, such as must have been given by alligators of great size.

"Come 'long, Ma.s.s' George," whispered Pomp.

"No," I said, "we must wait till day."

"Dey come and hab us bofe, Ma.s.s' George, we 'top here. Come 'long."

"But it is impossible."

"Yes, Ma.s.s' George, um possible; come and get up dat big tree."

The proposition seemed so much in unison with my feelings that I followed my companion at once, and he paused under a great oak a little farther from the river, and beyond the bluff.

"Dah, Ma.s.s' George, make base up an' let me come. I dreffle frighten."

"Then go first."

"No, Ma.s.s' George, you go firs', you de mas'r."

"Then I order you to go first, Pomp," I said.

"Den we bofe clime up togedder, Ma.s.s' George. You go one way, and Pomp go oder way."

There seemed to be no time for discussion on questions of precedent, so we began to climb together, reaching a great branch about twenty feet from the ground, no easy task for me, enc.u.mbered as I was by the gun.

"Ha ha!" cried Pomp, who seemed to have recovered his courage as soon as he was up in the tree; "no 'gator catch um up here, Ma.s.s' George.

Nebber see 'gator, no, not eben lil 'gator, climb up tree."

"No," I said in a low tone, which impressed the boy so that he sat speechless for some time; "no, but the panthers can, more easily than we do, Pomp."

I don't know what sort of a shot I should have made; probably I should have been too nervous to take good aim up there in the dark; but for what seemed a terrible length of time I sat there gun in hand, ready to fire at the first savage creature I could see, and a dozen times over I conjured up something stealthily approaching. But it was not until we had been up there about an hour that I felt quite certain of some great cat-like creature being beneath the tree.

It was not creeping forward, but crouched down as if watching us, ready at our first movement to change its waiting att.i.tude into one of offence.

Pomp made no sign, but he was so still that I felt sure he could see it too, and I was afraid to call his attention to it, lest it should bring the creature on me so suddenly that it might disorder my aim. So I sat on with the piece directed at the object, my finger on the trigger, hesitating, then determined to fire, when all at once it seemed to me that the animal had grown plainer.

This, though I had not detected the movement, must mean that it was getting nearer and about to spring, so casting all hesitancy to the winds, I raised the gun to my shoulder, and then quite started, for Pomp said aloud--

"Ma.s.s' George going shoot?"

"Yes," I said, in a husky whisper. "Keep still; do you see it?"

"No. Where be um?"

"There, there," I whispered; "down straight before us."

"What, dat?"