CHAPTER TWENTY.
FISHING FOR MEN.
Those with the boat had been too much occupied in their own adventure toheed what had taken place at the landing-stage; and, even had theyglanced in that direction, the distance the swift tide had carried themup-stream would have made every movement indistinct.
But busy moments had passed there, for the overseer was a man of action,and prompt to take measures toward saving the life of the drowning man.For a human life was valuable in those early days of the Americancolonies, especially the life of a strong, healthy slave who could workin the broiling sunshine to win the harvest of the rich, fertile soil.
So, as the boat drifted away, he gave his orders sharply, and the blackslaves, who had stood helplessly staring, rushed to the help of theircompanion, who was hanging by the boat-hook, half in the water, afraidto stir lest the iron should give way and the tide carry him off towhere, as he well knew, there were dangers which made his lips turn greywith dread.
The help came just as the poor fellow was ready to lose his hold andslip back into the river, and in another minute he was shivering on thestage.
"Take hold of that boat-hook," cried the overseer, speaking with hiseyes fixed upon one spot, where the water ran eddying and forming tinywhirlpools, and not daring to look round for fear of losing sight of theplace where it seemed to him that his white slave had gone down like astone; and this had kept him from giving much heed to the proceedings inthe boat.
One of the men seized the pole and waited for the next order.
"He went down there," cried the overseer, pointing. "Sound with thepole, and try how deep it is."
The man obeyed, the pole touching the muddy bottom about four feet belowthe surface.
"That's right; jump in," cried Saunders.
The man started, and then remained motionless, gazing piteously at hiscompanions.
"Do you hear? Quick!" roared the overseer.
"There big 'gator, sah--'gator gar, sah," cried the man piteously.
"Bah! In with you," cried the overseer fiercely, and he cracked hiswhip, with the result that the man lowered the pole again, and thenhalf-slipped, half-jumped down into the water, which rose breast-high,and he had to hold on by the boat-hook to keep himself from being sweptaway.
But the next moment he steadied himself.
"There, wade out," cried Saunders; "quick, before it is too late.Quick, sir; do you hear?"
He cracked his whip loudly as he spoke, and the man raised the poleafter separating his legs to increase his support, as he leaned to hisleft to bear against the rushing tide, which threatened to sweep himfrom his feet. Then, reaching out, he thrust down the boat-hook againto get another support before taking a step farther from the staging.
But it was in vain. The water deepened so suddenly that as he took thestep the water rose to his nostrils, and he uttered a yell, for thecurrent swept him from his feet to fall over sidewise, and the nextmoment lay, as it were, upon the surface, with only one side of his facevisible; but he was not borne away.
The other blacks, and even the overseer, stared in wonder, for there theman lay, with the tide rushing by him, anchored, as it were, in thestream, rising and falling gently like a buoy for a few moments beforebeginning to glide with the current.
"It's of no use," said the overseer sharply; "the hound's dead beforenow. Clumsy fool! Two of you jump in, and one reach out to get hold ofXerxes; we must give the new fellow up."
The men shrank, but they obeyed, lowering themselves into the water andjoining hands, one of them taking hold of the end of the staging, whilethe other waded a step or two and reached out, as he clung to hisfellow's extended hand till he was just able to get hold of the cottonjacket.
That was sufficient; the black was drawn a trifle shoreward, and thencame more and more, as if dragging with him whatever it was that hadanchored him to the bottom.
That mystery was soon explained, for the pole of the boat-hook, to whichthe poor fellow clung, appeared level with the surface, and as the dragwas increased more and more of the pole appeared, till all three wereclose up to the piles; after which first one and then another climbedout to drag at the long stout staff, till, to the surprise of all, theyfound that what it was hitched into was the clothes of Humpy Dee, whohad lain nearly where he had sunk, anchored by the weight of his irons,in some hole where the pressure of the current was not so great as atthe surface.
In another minute the heavy figure had been hauled upon the platform, tolie there apparently dead; while the blacks began, after their homely,clumsy fashion, to try and crush out any tiny spark of life which mightremain, and kept on rolling the heavy body to and fro with all theirmight.
"It's no good, boys," said the overseer, frowning down at the prisoner."Keep on for a bit, though;" and he turned away to watch the coming ofthe boat, just as Pete sat up, looking dazed and strange, and Nic roseto his knees, and then painfully seated himself in his old place.
"Better than I thought for," muttered the overseer. "One gone insteadof three--pull, boys," he shouted.
The blacks needed no telling, for they were exerting themselves to theutmost, and in a few minutes one of the blacks on the landing-stagecaught the prow with the hook, and the boat was drawn alongside of thewoodwork, the dogs having quietly settled themselves in their placebehind the stern seat as soon as the two half-drowned men had shownsigns of recovery.
The overseer scanned the two dripping figures hard, uttered a grunt, andturned once more to where the blacks were busy still with the heavyfigure of Humpy Dee, which they were rolling and rubbing unmercifully,with the water trickling between the boards, and the sunset light givinga peculiarly warm glow to the man's bronzed skin.
"Well," cried the overseer, "is he quite dead?"
"No, sah; am t'ink he quite 'livo," said one of the blacks.
"Eh? What makes you think that?"
"Him bit warm, massa--and just now him say _whuzz_, _whuzz_ when we rubum front."
"No," said the overseer; "impossible. He was under the water too long.Here, what are you doing?"
The black had laid his ear against the patient's breast, but he startedup again.
"Lissum; hear whever him dead, massa. You come, put your head downheah, and you hear um go _wob_, _wob_ berry soffly."
Saunders bent down and laid his head against the man's bull-throat, tokeep it there for a few moments.
"No go _wob_, _wob_, sah?" cried the black. "You two and me gib um bigshake. Um go den."
"No, no; let him be," cried the overseer; and the blacks looked on inperfect silence till their tyrant rose slowly to his feet, scowling.
"Clumsy brute," he said, "causing all this trouble and hindrance.Nearly drowned two men. There, two of you take him by his head andheels and drop him in."
"Tie big 'tone to um head first, massa?"
"What!" roared the overseer, so sharply that the black jumped to hisfeet. "What do you mean?"
"Make um go to de bottom, sah, and neber come up no more."
"Bah! you grinning black idiot. Didn't you tell me he was alive?"
"Yes, sah; quite 'livo, sah."
"Drop him in the boat, then, and hurry about it, or we shan't get up tothe farm before the tide turns. There, four of you take him; and youbelow there, ease him down. Don't let him go overboard again, if youwant to keep whole skins."
The men seized the heavy figure by the hands and legs, and bearing itquite to the edge, lowered it down to the others, room being made at thebottom of the boat, where it was deposited with about as much ceremonyas a sack of corn. Then, in obedience to another order, the blacksdescended, and the overseer stepped down last, to seat himself with hisback to the dogs; while the smith and his assistant once more took uptheir guns and their places as guards. Then the boat was pushed off.Four of the blacks seized the oars, the boat's head swung round, and thenext minute, with but little effort, she was gliding rapidly up themuddy stream.
It was dangerous work to begi
n talking, but as Nic sat there in silence,with his head growing clearer, and gazing compassionately at theprostrate figure, two of the prisoners put their heads together andbegan to whisper.
"Close shave for old Humpy," said one. "Think he'll come round again?"
"Dunno; but if he does, I'm not going to help in any more games aboutgoing off. This job has made me sick."
"He won't want you to; this must have pretty well sickened him if hecomes to."
"Mind what you're saying. That there black image is trying to hearevery word."
"He can't understand. But I say, the gaffer didn't know how ithappened, after all. Thought it was an accident."
"So it was," said the other man, with a grim smile, "for old Humpy.Here, Pete, old man, how are you now?"
Pete looked at the speaker in wonder, then nodded, and said quietly:
"Bit stiff and achey about the back of the neck."
"Mind shaking hands, mate?" said the man in a faint whisper.
"What for?" said Pete sourly.
"'Cause I like what you did, mate. It was acting like a man. But we'renot friends over that other business of splitting on us about thesalmon."
"Better wait a bit, then, my lad," said Pete. "It aren't good to shakehands with a man like me."
"But I say it is," said the other with emphasis. "The way you wentoverboard with them heavy irons on, to try and save young master here,sent my heart up in my mouth."
Nic, who had sat listening moodily to the whispered conversation,suddenly looked up in a quick, eager way.
"Say that again," he whispered huskily.
"Say what agen?"
"Did Pete Burge jump in to save my life?"
"Course he did--like a man."
"Oh!" gasped Nic, turning to look Pete wonderingly in the face.
"Silence there!" roared the overseer savagely. "Do you think you'vecome out here for a holiday, you insolent dogs?"
At the last words the three animals behind the speaker took it tothemselves, and began to bark.
"Down! Quiet!" roared the overseer, and the barking of the dogs and hisloud command came echoing back from a wood of great overhanging trees,as the boat now passed a curve of the river.
Nic glanced at the overseer, then to right and left of him, beforeletting his eyes drop on the swiftly-flowing river, to try and think outclearly the answers to a couple of questions which seemed to be buzzingin his brain: "Where are we going? How is this to end?"
But there was no answer. All seemed black ahead as the rapidly-comingnight.
Nic Revel: A White Slave's Adventures in Alligator Land Page 20