Mass' George Part 57

The same result for a dozen more tries, and then Pomp said protestingly--

"I nebber tink dat ob any good."

"But it is good if I could strike one," I said, testily.

"Um on'y tummle off 'gain, Ma.s.s' George."

"Never mind; try and find another good hole, I'll do it yet."

He gave his head a rub and went on along the river-side, peering among the overhanging bushes, and one way and another we made a trail that any one could have followed; but likely holes and pools were scarce now, and I was getting hot, faint, and weary, when, after creeping close to the edge of the stream again, Pomp signed to me to give him the lance.

I hesitated for a moment, not liking to give up, but ended by pa.s.sing the spear; and, taking it, Pomp lay flat down, crept to the edge where the bank overhung the river, as it proved, very gently thrust his eyes beyond, drew back, and quickly picked a good-sized bunch of long gra.s.s, which he bound at one end, opened the bunch at the other, and put it on like a cap, the result being that the long gra.s.sy strands hung right over his face loosely.

He laughed at me, and crept back again, moving his head slowly to and fro for a few moments, as if to get the occupants of the pool used to his presence.

Then very slowly and cautiously he manipulated the lance shaft, so that it was upright, and holding it with both hands lowered the point down and down till six feet had disappeared, then seven, eight, nine at least; and as I was thinking how deep it must be down there, the long cane became stationary, with the boy's hands holding it above his head.

I stood leaning forward, wondering what luck he would have, and full of hope, for I was too hungry to feel envious and hope that he would miss.

But still he did not strike, and the moments glided on till I was getting quite out of patience, and about to creep forward and look down to see how big the fish might be, when, quick as thought, down went the shaft with a tremendous dig, and then, with the cane quivering exceedingly, Pomp seemed to be holding something he had pinned tightly down against the bottom, till its first fierce struggles were at an end.

"Got him?" I exclaimed, joyfully.

"Pomp 'tick knife right froo um," he panted; and then springing up, he rapidly drew the shaft from the water, hand over hand, till, to my intense astonishment, he raised to the bank, muddy, dripping, and flapping heavily, the largest terrapin I had seen, and putting his foot upon it, he drew out the spear, which had transfixed it right in the middle of the back.

"Dah!" he exclaimed; and seizing his capture, he led the way into the forest, where, risking discovery, we soon had a fire of dead sticks and pine-needles blazing merrily over the sh.e.l.l of our terrapin, off which we made at last, if not a good meal, a sufficiently satisfying one to give us spirit for trying to get back home.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

"Now, Pomp," I said, after we had each lain down and had a good hearty drink of clear water, "the way to get home is to make a raft and float down the river."

"Don't want raft--want um boat," he said.

"Do you know what a raft is?" I said.

"No, Ma.s.s' George."

I explained to him, and he shook his head.

"'Gator come and pick Pomp and Ma.s.s' George off."

"We must make it so big that they could not."

"How make big raft?--no chopper to cut down tree."

"We must cut down and tie together bundles of canes," I said, after a long pause, well occupied by thinking. "They will bear us if we lie down upon them. We have a knife; let's try."

It was no easy task to get the knife free, for the threads by which it was bound into the split end of the cane had swollen; but it was clear at last, and selecting a suitable spot where the sh.o.r.e was quite a cane brake, we toiled away cutting and tying together bundle after bundle of canes, till we had six which roughly resembled as many big trusses of straw. These we secured to four of the stoutest canes we could find, pa.s.sing them through the bands crosswise, and after a good deal of difficulty, and at the risk of undoing our work, we managed to thrust it off the bank into the river, where, to my great delight, upon trying it, the buoyancy far exceeded my expectations. In fact, though we could not have stood upon it, lying down it supported us well, and without any hesitation, after cutting a couple of light poles for steering or directing, we thrust off from the side, and began gliding down the stream.

From that moment it seemed as if our troubles were over, for we had little difficulty in keeping well out from the overhanging boughs, while a thrust or two with our poles enabled us to avoid fallen trees and patches of growth rising from the river shallows.

I soon felt convinced that if the bands we had made would hold out, we should have no difficulty in floating down, for I could recall no rapids or falls likely to give us trouble. Certainly we had seen nor heard neither. Our risks were from the collapse of our raft, from the reptiles that we kept seeing from time to time as we glided slowly on, and from the Indians, whom, as I scanned the bank, I expected moment by moment to see start from the dense growth which fringed the sides with a yell.

If we could have felt secure, the ride down the river would have been delightful, for it was all in the bright sunshine, with a wall of the loveliest verdure on either side. Flowers hung in cl.u.s.ters, or sprang from the moist banks; birds flitted here and there, and every now and then some great heron or crane sprang up with flapping wings and harsh cry at being disturbed while fishing.

But every now and then an excited movement on the part of Pomp told me that an alligator was in sight, sunning himself on a shoal, or where he had beaten down the reedy growth as he had crawled out upon the bank.

Such movements on the boy's part were perilous, the side of the raft going down slowly and steadily, till I forced him to lie still.

"They will not touch us," I said, "unless we are struggling in the water. Do you want to fall in or upset the raft?"

He shuddered, and his eyes rolled a little, but he lay still, and we glided on till we must have gone down a couple of miles, when all at once Pomp uttered a cry.

"Hush!" I said, despairingly. "You will be heard."

"Nebber mind. Quick, Ma.s.s' George! Push! Push!"

I could not understand what he meant, but it was evident that something was wrong, and there was no time to ask for an explanation; so I helped all I could to push the raft toward the farther sh.o.r.e, convinced that the Indians were upon us, and that we must seek safety in the forest once again.

It was easy enough to float with the stream, but hard work to make the raft to move as we wished, and we must have gone down fully a hundred yards farther before there was a chance to seize an overhanging branch, and tow the raft to a clear piece of the farther bank, on to which Pomp scrambled at once.

"Quick, Ma.s.s' George, quick!" he cried; and leaving me to follow, he disappeared at once in the dense cane and bush.

I was not long in following; and as I got ash.o.r.e I saw the raft caught by an eddy, as it rose relieved from my weight, and as I plunged into the thicket I had a glimpse of it being carried out into the swift stream.

I was too much excited and hurried to follow Pomp, whom I heard crashing on before me, to pause to think about our retreat being now cut off by water, unless we made a new raft. The Indians must be there within view, I felt; but why did no arrows come; and why did not my companion plunge at once into the forest?

The explanation came directly, as I struggled on, seeing my route marked by trampled down reed and broken twig, for Pomp suddenly shouted--

"I got um, Ma.s.s' George."

What had he got? Something eatable, I felt, for he was always hungry; and to obtain this we had lost our raft, and should have all the work to do over again.

"Hush!" I whispered, angrily; "you will be heard."

"Done matter now," came from close at hand, though I could see nothing yet. "Pomp fine um."

I struggled out of the low brushwood, and came into a more open part of the bank, and there stood in astonishment, to find my companion dancing with delight, and pointing to where, six feet above my head, just as it had been left by the subsiding of the water, and on a nearly even keel, was the lost boat, perched among the bushes, and apparently none the worse for its journey.

"Oh, Pomp!" I cried, as excited now as he, "this is a find."

"See juss lit' bit ob um back up dah, Ma.s.s' George," he said. "Come try and get um down."

I beat and pressed down the bushes as much as I could, and together we reached the stern of the boat; but as I touched it a fresh thought arose to damp my spirits.

There was the boat, but in what condition was it? It did not seem possible that it could have been drifting about in that flood and left here without damage--a hole made by some jagged projecting tree branch, or a plank started.