The Adventures of Don Lavington Part 85

"Not a bit sorry I killed some of 'em," muttered Jem. "They arn't men, Mas' Don, but savage beasts."

It did not take long, for there was plenty of room in the little fleet of canoes. The prisoners were divided, some being placed in the canoes with the plunder, and treated as if they were spoil. Others were divided among the long canoes, manned by the enemy, whose own wounded men, even to the worst, did not hesitate to take to a paddle, and fill their places. Some of the children whimpered, but an apathetic state of misery and dejection seemed to have affected even them, while in one or two cases, a blow from a paddle was sufficient to awe the poor little unfortunates into silence.

As soon as the last man was in his place, a herculean chief waved his hands; one of his followers raised a great wooden trumpet, and blew a long, bellowing note; the paddles dipped almost as one into the water, and the men burst into a triumphal chorus, as, for a few hundred yards, the great war canoes which they had captured swept with their freight of spoil at a rapid rate southward along the sh.o.r.e.

Then the sudden burst of energy ceased, the song broke off, the speed diminished; and the men slowly dipped their paddles in a heavy, drowsy way. Every now and then one of the warriors ceased paddling, or contented himself with going through the motion; but still the great serpent-like vessels glided on, though slowly, while the darkness came on rapidly, and the water flashed as its phosph.o.r.escent inhabitants were disturbed.

The darkness grew intense, but not for long. Soon a gradual lightening became visible in the east, and suddenly a flash of light glanced along the surface of the sea, as the moon slowly rose to give a weird aspect to the long row of dusky warriors sluggishly urging the great canoes onward.

Don and Jem had the good fortune to be together in the largest and leading canoe; and as they sat there in silence, the strangeness of the scene appeared awful. The sh.o.r.e looked almost black, save where the moon illumined the mountainous background; but the sea seemed to have been turned into a pale greenish metal, flowing easily in a molten state. No one spoke, not a sigh was heard from the prisoners, who must have been suffering keenly as they cowered down in the boat.

Don sat watching the weird panorama as they went along, asking himself at times if it was all real, or only the effect of some vivid dream.

For it appeared to be impossible that he could have gone through what he had on the previous night, and be there now, borne who could say whither, by the successful raiders, who were moving their oars mechanically as the canoe glided on.

"It must be a dream," he said to himself. "I shall awake soon, and--"

"What a chance, Mas' Don!" said a low voice at his side, to prove to him that he was awake.

"Chance? What chance?" said Don, starting.

"I don't mean to get away, but for any other tribe to give it to them, and serve 'em as they served our poor friends; for they was friends to us, Mas' Don."

"I wish the wretches could be punished," said Don sadly; "but I see no chance of that."

"Ah! Wait a bit, my lad; you don't know. But what a chance it would be with them all in this state. If it wasn't that I don't care about being drowned, I should like to set to work with my pocket knife, and make a hole in the bottom of the canoe."

"It would drown the innocent and the guilty, Jem."

"Ay, that's so, my lad. I say, Mas' Don, arn't you hungry?"

"Yes, I suppose so, Jem. Not hungry; but I feel as if I have had no food. I am too miserable to be hungry."

"So am I sometimes when my shoulder burns; at other times I feel as if I could eat wood."

They sat in silence as the moon rose higher, and the long lines of paddles in the different boats looked more weird and strange, while in the distance a mountain top that stood above the long black line of trees flashed in the moonlight as if emitting silver fire.

"Wonder where they'll take us?" said Jem, at last.

"To their _pah_, I suppose," replied Don, dreamily.

"I s'pose they'll give us something to eat when we get there, eh?"

"I suppose so, Jem. I don't know, and I feel too miserable even to try and think."

"Ah," said Jem; "that's how those poor women and the wounded prisoners feel, Mas' Don; but they're only copper-coloured blacks, and we're whites. We can't afford to feel as they do. Look here, my lad, how soon do you think you'll be strong enough to try and escape?"

"I don't know, Jem."

"I say to-morrow."

"Shall you be fit?"

Jem was silent for a few minutes.

"I'm like you, Mas' Don," he said. "I dunno; but I tell you what, we will not say to-morrow or next day, but make up our minds to go first chance. What do you say to that?"

"Anything is better than being in the power of such wretches as these, Jem; so let's do as you say."

Jem nodded his head as he sat in the bottom of the canoe in the broad moonlight, and Don watched the soft silver sea, the black velvet-looking sh.o.r.e, and the brilliant stars; and then, just as in his faintness, hunger, and misery, he had determined in his own mind that he would be obliged to sit there and suffer the long night through, and began wondering how long it would be before morning, he became aware of the fact that Nature is bounteously good to those who suffer, for he saw that Jem kept on nodding his head, as if in acquiescence with that which he had said; and then he seemed to subside slowly with his brow against the side.

"He's asleep!" said Don to himself. "Poor Jem! He always could go to sleep directly."

This turned Don's thoughts to the times when, after a hard morning's work, and a hasty dinner, he had seen Jem sit down in a corner with his back against a tub, and drop off apparently in an instant.

"I wish I could go to sleep and forget all this," Don said to himself with a sigh--"all this horror and weariness and misery."

He shook his head: it was impossible; and he looked again at the dark sh.o.r.e that they were pa.s.sing, at the shimmering sea, and then at the bronzed backs of the warriors as they paddled on in their drowsy, mechanical way.

The movement looked more and more strange as he gazed. The men's bodies swayed very little, and their arms all along the line looked misty, and seemed to stretch right away into infinity, so far away was the last rower from the prow. The water flashed with the moonlight on one side, and gleamed pallidly on the other as the blades stirred it; and then they grew more misty and more misty, but kept on _plash_--_plash_--_plash_, and the paddles of the line of canoes behind echoed the sound, or seemed to, as they beat the water, and Jem whispered softly in his ear,--

"Don't move, Mas' Don, my lad, I'm not tired!"

But he did move, for he started up from where his head had been lying on Jem's knees, and the poor fellow smiled at him in the broad morning sunshine. Sunshine, and not moonshine; and Don stared. "Why, Jem," he said, "have I been asleep?"

"S'pose so, Mas' Don. I know I have, and when I woke a bit ago, you'd got your head in my lap, and you was smiling just as if you was enjoying your bit of rest."

CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

TOMATI ESCAPES.

"Have they been rowing--I mean paddling--all night, Jem?" said Don, as he looked back and saw the long line of canoes following the one he was in.

"S'pose so, my lad. Seems to me they can go to sleep and keep on, just as old Rumble's mare used to doze away in the carrier's cart, all but her legs, which used to keep on going. Them chaps, p'r'aps, goes to sleep all but their arms."

A terrible gnawing sensation was troubling Don now, as he looked eagerly about to see that they were going swiftly along the coast line; for their captors had roused themselves with the coming of day, and sent the canoes forward at a rapid rate for about an hour, until they ran their long narrow vessels in upon the beach and landed, making their prisoners do the same, close by the mouth of a swift rocky stream, whose bright waters came tumbling down over a series of cascades.

Here it seemed as if a halt was to be made for resting, and after satisfying their own thirst, leave was given to the unhappy prisoners to a.s.suage theirs, and then a certain amount of the food found in the various huts was served round.

"Better than nothing, Mas' Don," said Jem, attacking his portion with the same avidity as was displayed by his fellow-prisoners. "'Tarn't good, but it'll fill up."

"Look, Jem!" whispered Don; "isn't that Tomati?"

Jem ceased eating, and stared in the direction indicated by Don.

"Why, 'tis," he whispered. "Don't take no notice, lad, or they'll stop us, but let's keep on edging along till we get to him. Will you go first, or follow me?"