The Adventures of Don Lavington Part 87

But there was an abundance of fruit, and bowls of a peculiar gruel-like food, quant.i.ties of which were served out to the wretched prisoners, where they squatted together, as dismal a group as could be imagined, and compared their own state with that of the victors, whose reception was almost frantic, and whose spoil was pa.s.sed from hand to hand, to be marvelled at, or laughed at with contempt.

At another time Don would have turned with disgust from the unattractive mess offered to him, but hunger and thirst made him swallow it eagerly, and the effect was wonderful.

A short time before he had felt ready to lay down and die; but, after partaking of the food, he was ready to accept Jem's suggestion that they should bathe their hands and faces in the rushing water that foamed by close at hand, the conquerors being too much occupied with their singing and feasting to pay much heed to them. So they crept to the rocky edge of the clear, sparkling water, and to their surprise found that it was quite warm.

But it was none the less refreshing, and as they half lay afterwards on the sun-warmed rock at the side, watching suspiciously every act of their new masters, in dread of that horror which sent a chill through both, they felt the refreshing glow send new life and strength through them, and as if their vigour were returning with every breath they drew.

"Feel better, Mas' Don?"

"Yes, much."

"So 'm I. If it wasn't for the hole in my shoulder, and it being so stiff, I shouldn't be long before I was all right."

"Does it pain you very much?"

"Come, that's better, Mas' Don," said Jem.

"Better?"

"Yes; you're looking up again, and taking a bit o' interest in things.

You quite frightened me, you seemed so down. My shoulder? Well, it do give it me pretty tidy. I thought I should have had to squeal when I was washing just now. But my legs are all right, Mas' Don. How's yourn?"

"My legs?"

"Yes. How soon shall we be ready to cut away?"

"Hush!"

"Oh! There's no one here understands English. When shall it be-- to-night?"

"First time there is an opportunity, Jem," said Don, softly.

"That's so, my lad; so every time you get a chance, you eat; and when you don't eat you drink, and lie down all you can."

"Do you think any of the men here would try to escape with us?"

Jem shook his head.

"I don't understand 'em, Mas' Don. Seems to me that these chaps are all fight till they're beaten; but as soon as they're beaten, they're like some horses over a job: they won't try again. No, they're no good to help us, and I suppose they mean to take it as it comes."

The two lay in silence now, watching the proceedings of their captors, who were being feasted, till there was a sudden movement, and about a dozen men approached them, spear in hand.

At a shouted order the prisoners, wounded and sound, rose up with the women and children; and as patiently and apathetically as possible, allowed themselves to be driven up the hill-side to the strongly-built _pah_, through whose gateway they entered, and then threw themselves wearily down in the shadow of the great fence, while their captors secured the entrance, and a couple of them remained on guard.

"Do I look like a sheep, Mas' Don?" said Jem, as he threw himself on the earth. "Sheep? No, Jem. Why?"

"Because I feels like one, my lad. Driven in here like one of a flock, and this place just like a great pen; and here we are to be kept till we're wanted for--Oh, don't look like that, Mas' Don. It was only my fun. I say, you look as white as a wax image."

"Then don't talk that way," said Don, hoa.r.s.ely. "It is too horrible."

"So it is, dear lad; but it seems to me that they only want to keep us now for slaves or servants. They're not going to, eh?"

"No, Jem," said Don looking at the great fence.

"Yes, that's just what I think, my lad. Posts like this may keep in Noo Zealanders, but they won't keep in two English chaps, will they?"

"Do you think if we got away in the woods, we could manage to live, Jem?"

"I think, my lad, if we stop in this here _pah_, we can't manage to at all, so we'll try that other way as soon as we can."

"Do you think it will be cowardly to leave these poor creatures in the power of the enemy?"

"If we could do 'em any good by staying it would be cowardly; but we can't do 'em any good. So as soon as you like, as I said before, I'm ready for a start. Why, there's fern roots, and fruit, and rivers, and the sea--Oh, yes, Mas' Don, I think we could pick up a living somehow, till we reached a settlement, or friendly tribe."

Night began to fall soon afterward, and half-a-dozen women came in, bearing more bowls of the gruel-like food, and a couple of baskets of potatoes, which were set down near the prisoners, along with a couple of great vessels of water.

"Didn't think I wanted any more yet," said Jem, after eating heartily, for there was an abundance. "Go on, Mas Don; 'tarn't so bad when you're used to it, but a shovel full of our best West Indy plarntation sugar wouldn't ha' done it any harm to my thinking."

"I have eaten all I care for, Jem," said Don, wearily; and he sat gazing at the great fence which kept them in.

"No," said Jem, softly; "not there, Mas' Don. Just cast your eyes a bit more to the left. There's quite a rough bit, and if we couldn't climb it, I'm not here."

"But what about your shoulder?"

"I'll climb it with one hand, Mas' Don, or know the reason why."

"But the men on sentry?"

"Tchah! They think we're all too done up and cowardly to try to get away. I've been thinking it all over, and if you're the same mind as me, off we go to-night."

Don's heart beat fast, and a curious feeling of timidity came over him, consequent upon his weakness, but he mastered it, and, laying his hand on his companion's arm, responded,--

"I am ready."

"Then we'll make our hay while the sun shines, and as soon as it's dark," said Jem, earnestly, and unconscious of the peculiarity of his use of the proverb. "Let's lie still just as the others do, and then, I'm sorry for 'em; but this here's a case where we must help ourselves."

Jem lay there on his back as if asleep, when three stalwart Maoris came round soon after dusk, and took out the bowls which had held the food.

They were laughing and talking together, as if in high glee, and it was apparently about the success of the festival, for they looked at their prisoners, whom they then seemed to count over, each in turn touching the poor creatures with the b.u.t.t ends of their long spears.

Don felt the hot blood surge through his veins as one of the three guards gave him a harsh thrust with his spear, but he did not wince, only lay back patiently and waited till the men had gone. They secured the way into the _pah_, after which they squatted down, and began talking together in a low voice.

Don listened to them for a time, and then turned over to where Jem lay as if asleep.

"Is it dark enough?" he whispered.

"Plenty. I'm ready."

"Can you manage to get over?"