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"And we'll stop too, Morgan," I said. "We may find him at any moment, and it is impossible to go and leave the poor boy like this."
Hannibal did not speak, but I saw his eyes fixed on me as Morgan spoke.
"I don't want to go and leave him, Master George," he said, "because it's like leaving a comrade, and old soldiers don't do that. But soldiers has their duty to do, and duty says--Go and let them know at the settlement. Besides, my duty to your father seems to say, Get you out of this as quick as you can."
"Yes, I know that, Morgan," I said.
"And the Indians may be on us at any moment."
"Yes, but we can't leave him," I said; "and--Ah, there's that noise again. I'm sure it came from right in there."
I pointed back toward the other side of the clearing, toward which spot Hannibal immediately rushed, and we followed as quickly as we could, for something seemed to tell us that a discovery was at hand.
It was close by the part of the forest through which Morgan and I had made our way cautiously and silently when we were going to kill the rattlesnake; and as we reached the edge, and pa.s.sed in amongst the densely growing trees, all was silent, dark, and mysterious-looking; but there was nothing to be seen but tree-trunks, and we crept up to where the great black stood bending down and listening.
All was silent. Then there was a faint rap as a squirrel dropped a fir-cone from high up somewhere invisible to us. As far as we could see there were the gloomy aisles of great growing pillars, and we knew that we had pa.s.sed through this portion of the forest again and again, though it was quite possible that we might have missed parts.
"Well, do you hear it?" I said, in a whisper.
Hannibal shook his head despondently, and then his face lit up as we heard from our right, and quite close at hand, the same faint, gurgling sound, now evidently a cry.
The black rushed on in and out among the trees, a gleam of sunshine catching his black skin once, just as we were pa.s.sing the gloomiest part; and then, as I was close behind him, he disappeared beyond a group of great pillar-like pine-trees, and when I reached them I came upon him suddenly in a hollow, deep with fir-needles--a natural hole formed by the fall of a monstrous tree, whose root still lay as it had been wrenched out when the tree fell, but the trunk itself had gradually mouldered into dust.
And there was Hannibal busily cutting the hide thongs which bound Pomp, who was lying helpless at the bottom of the hole, with a blanket and a rough skin garment close by him, and beside these five bows and their arrows.
It was evidently the lurking-place of the Indian scouting party, who had suddenly pounced upon the boy, gagged and bound him, for his jaws were forced wide apart, a piece of ragged blanket was thrust into his mouth, and this was kept in by another hide thong tied round and round his face and neck, pa.s.sing between his jaws as if he were bridled with a leather bit, while his arms and wrists and legs were so securely tied that the poor fellow was perfectly helpless.
"Can't say he's black in the face, in the way we mean," said Morgan, sympathetically, "because, poor lad, it is his nature to be so, look you, but he's half dead."
I was already down on my knees chafing the wrists set at liberty, after the hide had been cut away from the boy's cheeks and the gag taken out, but he made no sign whatever, and we were still rubbing him, and trying to restore the circulation, when Morgan said quickly--
"We can do that in the boat. Up with him, Han, I'll carry your gun.
There must be more Indians near. These were on the advance, I'll lay, and I wouldn't say we don't have a fresh attack to-night."
Without a word Hannibal handed the gun, took Pomp by the arms, gently swung him on his back, and tore off a strip of blanket with which he tightly bound the boy's wrists together upon his own chest, so that it left the black's hands at liberty should he want to use them.
"Go on now," he said; and he held out his hand for his gun.
It was only a short distance from where we were to the boat, but it was really to be the most anxious part of all, and as we approached rattlesnake clearing, I involuntarily checked the others to look out cautiously before we left the dark pine-shade.
But all was still, the beautiful young growth glistening in the hot sunshine; and striking the path on the other side, gazing watchfully as we could, ready for attack, and fully expecting to see the Indians in possession of the boat, we finally reached the landing-place, where Pomp was laid in the stern, the weapons were placed ready, and faint and dripping with perspiration, I sank down beside Pomp as the rope was cast off.
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.
My eyes were for ever running from tree to bush, and plunged into the windings of the path, as Hannibal and Morgan seized the oars, sat down, and, after the head had been pushed off into the current, began to pull a heavy stroke that sent the boat rapidly along and out into the middle of the stream. For after my old experiences of starting from that landing-place, in addition to that which I had gone through that day, the nervous tension was so great that my imagination ran riot at first, and I saw dark faces peering out from among the canes, bronzed arms holding bows, while others drew arrows to the heads, and the loud yells of the Indians seemed to ring through my dizzy brain. But as, after we had reached the farther side of the stream, the boat surged on through the water with no sound really heard but the splash of the oars, I began to grow more calm, the more so that we pa.s.sed clump after clump, and patch after patch of undergrowth, from which arrows came whizzing last time, to strike into the sides of the boat, or fix themselves in the box with a hollow sounding rap.
As soon as I could collect myself a little, I plunged my hands over the side and bathed my face, and drank. Then hurriedly turning to poor Pomp, I placed his head more easily, Hannibal's great dark eyes watching me the while, and then took the tin baler, filled it with the cold, clear water, and began to bathe the boy's temples, pausing again and again to trickle water between his closely-set teeth.
But for a long time he gave no sign of recovery, but lay back breathing faintly, and with his eyes tightly closed.
"Coming to, Master George?" said Morgan.
"No," I had to reply again and again. And each time at my response I heard the boy's father utter a sigh.
But Hannibal did not cease to row a steady stroke, though I saw his forehead wrinkle up, and there was a wild look of misery in his eyes.
We had pa.s.sed round the wooded point in safety, and soon after were well out of our stream and in the big river, when, seeing that we were beyond the reach of arrows, the rowing was slackened a little, just as, to the great delight of all, Pomp showed signs of recovery.
I was bending over him after dipping the tin full of water once more, and began to trickle a little water on his forehead, when _flip_, the tin went flying, the water sparkling in the sun, and a quant.i.ty of it sprinkling Hannibal where he sat, while it was all so sudden that I burst out laughing, for Pomp's familiar voice rang out sharply and angrily--
"Don't do dat."
Then memory must have come back like a flash, for the boy's hands seized me as I bent over and touched him, his eyes opened and glared at me, he showed his teeth viciously, and then let his hands drop, and he sank back.
"Ma.s.s' George!" he said, feebly. "Ah, Pomp know all de time. Ma.s.s'
George play trick. Pash water, and--" Then with a sudden fierce change of manner--"Run, Ma.s.s' George--run--quick--what gone long dem Injum?"
He looked round wildly.
"They are gone, Pomp," I said; and I shivered a little as I spoke.
"We're quite safe now. Drink a little water."
I raised his head, and held the refilled water-can to his lips, when he drank with avidity.
"Are you better?"
"Eh? Better, Ma.s.s' George? Injum cotch Pomp, and 'tuff mouf full.
Couldn't holler. Tie um all up tightum. No move, no breve, no do nuffum."
"Yes; don't talk now. We found you. No; lie still. What do you want?"
"Go kill all de Injum."
"Sit still," I said, with another little shiver, as I recalled the scene of the struggle.
"No; Pomp won't sit 'till."
He rose to a sitting position and began rubbing his wrists, staring at his father the while, as the latter rowed steadily on with his arms bandaged and showing stains.
"What matter wif yo' arm?"
Hannibal said something to the boy in his own tongue, and Pomp leaned forward, still rubbing his numbed wrists softly, and evidently listening intently till his father had done, when he clapped his hands together and uttered a harsh laugh.
"Ah," he cried; "dat a way. Dey no come try kill Ma.s.s' George 'gain."
Then reverting to his own injuries, he felt all his teeth gently with thumb and finger, as if to try whether they were loose.