Boy Chums in the Forest; Or, Hunting for Plume Birds in the Florida Everglades
Page 20
CHAPTER XX.
SAVED.
Darkness, black as night, floated over Walter's reeling brain;darkness, pierced by a thousand gleaming, twinkling lights, brilliantas stars, then came a void and nothingness. Slowly at last he felthimself struggling up out of the void, battling, fighting forconsciousness, then came a delicious sort of languor. If this wasdying, it was very pleasant. Forms seemed to be flitting before hishalf-opened eyelids and the hum of voices seemed to float in his ears.One voice irritated him greatly; it was faintly familiar in its loudjoyousness. What was it saying?
"Golly, Massa Captain, bless de Lawd, he ain't dead."
Another voice responded, "No, thank God, he's goin' to live, Chris.Bear a hand and we'll get him into the wigwam."
There was a sensation of being home through the air, and Waltersurrendered to the delicious languor,--and slept.
When he opened his eyes again an ebony face was bending over him andChris' voice demanded, "Golly, don't you know me, Massa Walt?"
"It's Chris," Walter said, smiling feebly, and the little darky dancedabout in joy.
Walter raised his head with an effort and looked about him. He waslying on a bed of soft moss with a pillow of blankets under his head.He seemed to be surrounded by walls of bark which met in a point farabove his head; opposite him lay another figure on a bed similar to hisown.
"Where am I, and how did I get here?" he demanded confusedly, "the lastI remember was being in the canoe a few minutes ago and everythinggetting dark before me."
"A few minutes ago," cried Chris, excitedly. "Why, it's dun been twodays since Massa Captain come on you when he was paddlin' around thelake. You was layin' in the bottom of the canoe like you was dead."
"Two days," exclaimed Walter in astonishment; then, with a sudden noteof dread in his voice, he cried, "Charley!"
"He's gettin' along pretty well," said the little darky cheerfully,"he's lyin' right across from you thar. Now you jus' keep still an'doan' talk no more," he commanded. "Massa Captain out fixing up somesoup. Reckon he'll let you talk some more after you drink it."
The captain soon appeared with a gourd full of steaming liquid. He wasoverjoyed at finding Walter conscious, but firmly insisted that heshould remain quiet, and he fed him liberally with the hot soup.Indeed, Walter felt little desire to talk; a few swallows of the warmliquid made him very drowsy, and he quickly sank into a deep sleep fromwhich he awoke feeling much stronger and almost like his old self again.
To his great joy, he found Charley conscious, and without fever,although still very weak. He sat down on the edge of the invalid's bedand the two talked over the thrilling adventures through which they hadpassed.
They were interrupted by the entrance of the captain and Chris, thecaptain bearing an armful of yams and Chris a string of fresh fish."We are layin' in a stock of provisions against the appetite I reckonyou lads will have now you are gettin' better," explained the captain,cheerfully.
Walter caught the old sailor by the sleeve and held him tightly. "Nowyou have got to sit right down and tell us your story before I will letyou go," he said. "First, Charley and I want to know where we are."
The captain filled his old black pipe, and got it to drawing goodbefore he answered.
"You're on an island about two miles inside the Everglades, as near asI can calculate."
"Did you build this shelter since you have been here?" asked Charleyeagerly.
A shade of sadness passed over the captain's open face. "No," he saidslowly, "this island belonged to the chief an' this wigwam was where helived, an' it was here we brought him to die."
"To die?" echoed both boys together.
"Aye, lads, he passed away the same day we reached here," said thecaptain, sadly. "He was a white man clean through, if his color wasred. I got to know him powerful well on the trip here, an' he sure hadall of a white man's feelings."
The boys remained silent in face of the captain's evident grief, andthe old sailor, after a pause, continued. "We buried him under a bigoak tree, with his gun and plenty of food by his side, just as he haddirected, an' I reckon his spirit is up in his happy hunting-groundsnow."
"And the young chief, his son, what has become of him?" Walter askedafter a pause.
"Gone to gather his people together an' swoop down with them on themurderin' convicts. He found out from signs, that I couldn't makenothin' of, that his tribe had divided into two parties, one goingtowards a hunting-ground called Big Cypress, an' the other to anotherplace where deer an' bear are thick. As soon as the chief was buried,he jumps into his dugout an' starts to round 'em up. If he gets backwith them in time to catch them outlaws, may the Lord have mercy ontheir murderin' sin-stained souls, for the young chap will have 'emslowly tortured to death if he catches them."
"Tell us all about your trip," Walter urged, "how did we get separated,I wonder?"
"It puzzled me for a bit as to what had become of you, but the chiefsoon explained it by saying that you likely had taken another stream.Chris an' I was for turnin' back an' huntin' you, but the chiefreasoned us out of it, by saying that you might have taken any one of adozen forks and that there would be mighty little chance of our hittingon the right one, while we would be almost sure to run right into theconvicts' hands again. But what influenced us most, was his explainin'that all streams thereabout ran into, or from, the Everglades, an' thatall we had to do was to get here first and keep a sharp lookout alongthe cypress for you, and you'd soon show up. The chief had greatconfidence in your good sense, Charley, an' seemed to feel certain thatyou would reason that the only safe thing to do was to keep right on upthe stream you had taken. 'Course, we never suspected that you hadbeen shot."
"Well, I guess my successor in command did all I would have done andperhaps more," remarked Charley with a smile.
"It was just by luck that I happened to do the right thing," saidWalter, modestly.
"You didn't appear like as though luck had helped you much when I foundyou, Walt," remarked the captain, dryly. "It sorter looked to me likeonly hard work an' an amazin' lot of pluck an' grit had brought youthat far."
"Now don't you go trying to make a hero out of me," said Walter, hotly,"I won't have it. I only did what anyone would have done, and I made awhole lot of foolish blunders besides."
"Well, you can have it your own way, lad," agreed the captain, with aglance of affection at the embarrassed young hunter. "I reckon that'sabout all of our story worth tellin'," he concluded. "We made the bestspeed we could so as to get here before you. We caught sight ofparties of the convicts searchin' for us now an' then, but the chiefwas more than a match for them an' they never caught sight of us.Since we got here, Chris and I have patrolled the rivers' mouths forsight of you every day, but we had begun to despair when we came uponyour canoe day before yesterday. And now, that's all, my lads, exceptthat I feel we had all ought to join in thankin' our Heavenly Fatherfor deliverin' us from our enemies an' bringin' us together again."
With hearts full of gratitude, the young hunters sat with bowed headswhile the kindly old sailor offered up a simple, fervent prayer ofthanksgiving for the mercies they had received from the One who heedseven the sparrow's fall.
"Thar's one thing more to tell you, an' then I'm through," said thecaptain, breaking the thoughtful silence that had followed the prayer."The chief seemed to set great store by you, Charley. I reckon it camefrom your savin' his life at the risk of your own. Anyway, he spokeright often of the 'young white chief', as he called you, an' once hesaid you should be honored with riches. Not an hour before he died, hegave me this an' charged me to give it to you."
Charley took with wonder the object the captain handed him. It was apiece of exquisitely dressed doe-skin about six inches square. On thesmooth side was traced in a reddish sort of ink a kind of rude sketchof a lone palm tree, amongst the leaves of which a large bird wasperched. Resting against the foot of the palm was an object that borea faint resemblance to a paddle.
&
nbsp; "It is sign language, but I cannot make out what it means," saidCharley in perplexity. "I wonder why he wanted me to have it and whathe wanted me to do with it."
"I've puzzled over it some myself," said the captain slowly, "an' Ican't make anythin' out of it. From what the chief let fall from timeto time, though, I gathered he wanted to make you a valuable present,an' I've been kinder thinkin' that picture tells what an' where it is."
Charley folded the piece of doe-skin and put it carefully away in aninner pocket. "I will try to find out what it means when my head isclearer," he said. "Just now, all I can think of is something to eat."
"And you shall have something to eat right off," said the captain,heartily, "it's about time for supper anyway. Hustle up, Chris, an'get them fish cleaned. I reckon it won't hurt the lad to have a bit ofsolid food, now, providin' it's well cooked."
The sun was just setting when the captain and Chris reappeared bearinggourds full of smoking fish, and sweet sugary yams, and ears of curioussmall kernelled Indian corn.
The boys made merry over the delicious meal, but a curious constraintseemed to rest upon the captain and Chris. Once Walter surprised themexchanging glances full of a strange, expectant uneasiness. Thecircumstance aroused his curiosity, but he refrained from asking anyquestions, deciding that the captain would explain the trouble in hisown good time.
As the evening wore away, the change in the captain's manner becamemore and more marked. All his cheeriness of the day had departed,leaving him glum and silent. He took no part in the livelyconversation going on between the boys, but sat apart answering theirquestions in monosyllables. His manner, Walter decided, was that of aman who faces some great impending evil.
With the coming of darkness the air was filled with the noises of theswamp; the croaking of multitudes of frogs, the hooting of owls, andthe hoarse bellowing of many alligators.
Suddenly the boys sat up erect and stared at each other in amazement."What is it?" Walter cried.
Clear and sweet above the noises of the night rang the tolling of asilver-toned bell.
"It's the bell of the spirits callin' us," said the captain gloomily,while Chris sat ashen-faced trying vainly to control his terror.