CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
Black night comes quickly down there in the south, with but little ofthe twilight of the north, and after the night's dark reign there is buta short dawn before the sun springs up to shed hope and light, and thebright thoughts of a new day.
And now, with the blood seeming to flow more swiftly through our chilledframes, came the pipings and twitterings of the birds at the edge of theforest; there was a misty light, then a roseate flush overhead whichrapidly changed to orange above and below. The black mirror spangledwith diamonds and gold had gone, and as we sat there with the waterlapping now over the ridge, which was quite invisible, the sun's edgerose over the forest, glorifying the tops of the trees, and the greatgreen cypress stood up with golden gleams darting through it, andoffering us an inviting refuge from the peril in which we were placed.
"Now, Morgan, ready?" said my father, as he stood up and shook hislimbs.
"Yes, sir, ready. Cheer up, old lass; we'll soon get you there."
I caught a glimpse of Sarah's white despairing face, but my attentionwas taken up directly by my father's words.
"Come, Pompey, brave lad, jump in and swim across to the big tree, andshow us the way."
"Iss, massa," cried the boy; and he started up and dived in plump, todisappear, and then his black head popped up. "Come 'long, Mass'George," he cried; "so lubbly warm."
"Yes; in with you!" cried my father; and I rose, hesitated a moment, andthen plunged in, to find that by comparison with the air the water wasquite warm.
"I dab fuss," cried Pompey, and he swam on to soon reach one of theboughs, and turn round to wait for me.
I did not keep him long; and as soon as we had seated ourselves astrideof the great branch just level with the water, we stayed to watch thecoming of the rest.
That little swim after the effort required to make the first plunge wassimplicity itself to us boys; and consequently I looked almostwonderingly at the effort it caused my father and Morgan to get acrosswith Sarah, whom they supported between them.
They started well, swimming of course abreast, and with Hannibal comingbehind, but after a time they began to get deeper in the water, and tobe swimming with more effort, fighting so fiercely at last that if ithad not been for Hannibal lending them a helping hand, they would havebeen swept away.
I could not understand the reason for some time, but at last made outthat they had drifted into a spot where two little currents met, andwere striving against a force which I had not encountered, and werebeing carried away.
At last, by making a desperate effort, they swam on up the swift littlecurrent, and were nearing the tree fast, getting well toward the boughon which we two boys were seated, when all at once they stopped andbegan struggling again.
They were so near the end of the bough, that had we been there I couldalmost have reached them, and yet, so close to safety, they were, as Iat last realised, completely helpless.
"What is it? What's the matter, father?" I cried, excitedly.
"Caught--caught among the boughs underneath," he panted, hoarsely; and Iknew now that they had swum into and become entangled among thesubmerged boughs.
Just then I heard Sarah say piteously--
"It's of no use. Try and save yourselves."
I looked at Pomp, and he nodded his head, as if he fully comprehendedme, beginning at once to creep along the bough we were on, like amonkey, and I followed as well as I could, pretty quickly, but not withhis agility.
The bough was thick where we sat, about a couple of feet above thewater, and rose up at the end to about ten feet above. But as I hoped,when we were some distance along, it began to bend more and more, andthe thinner branch we now reached bent so rapidly that we were soon onlyfive feet, after climbing to six, then four, three--two--then one, andthen touching the water into which we sank now, going along hand overhand, making the rough bough act as a natural rope, till Pomp was at thefull extent of the thinnest twigs and nearly within reach of thehelpless group.
"Now, Mass' George, come," he said.
I grasped his meaning and passed on abreast of him, took a good holdwith one hand grasping quite a bunch of twigs, while the boy took theother and reached out toward where Morgan was just able to keep himselfafloat, with the others beyond him, and all growing weaker minute byminute.
Pomp got out as far as he could and stretched out his hand, but he was afull yard off still, and in a despairing way I looked at Morgan'supturned face.
"No catch hold, massa?" cried Pomp; and then he said something in hisown tongue, whose effect was to make Hannibal swim rapidly towards himfrom where he had been supporting my father, he being the only one notentangled by the boughs.
The peril taught the man how to act, and catching his son's hand, hebridged the space and extended his other hand to Morgan, so that weformed a human chain in the water, dependent upon the strength of mywrist and the bunch of twigs and leaves I held.
"Now, father," I said; "can you get clear?"
He struggled feebly, and I began to tremble for my hold.
"No," he said; "my foot is caught in a fork among the boughs, and if youdraw, it only tightens it."
A dead silence ensued. What was to be done? I could not answer thequestion, and I knew that everything depended upon how long I could holdon. Was all our effort to result in failure after all? It seemed so,and I tried to say something about kicking free, but no words wouldcome, and once more I began to feel a horrible sensation of fear. Thedifficulty was solved by my father, who roused himself to a final effortjust in the height of our despair.
"Get her into the tree," he said, hoarsely. "Never mind me."
What followed seems to me now like part of a confused dream. Nearly allmy early adventures stand out, when I go back, brightly vivid anddistinct, but a mist comes over my brain when I try to recall thatscene.
I can remember though how Pomp changed his grasp of my hand after astruggle, by getting his teeth well into the skirt of the loose blackgarment I wore, thus setting both my hands at liberty, so that I wasable to get a double hold upon the boughs, and drag and draw with suchgood effect that Pomp was soon within reach of another.
He seized this, and together we managed to draw Hannibal and then Morganwithin reach, so that they too got a good grip of the bended twigs, andwere in comparative safety.
But my father?
I looked from where I held on, up to my chin in the water, outwardtoward the spot in which I had seen him last. But he was not there. Hehad really been the only one entangled, and as soon as he had loosenedhis hold of poor Sarah, a good struggle in the outward direction had sethim free, and I saw him now striking out feebly and floating helplesslyaway.
My first thought was to swim to his help, but I was utterly unnerved andoverdone. A few strokes would have been all that I could have taken,and then I might have gone down, but a hand was stretched-out and caughtme by the collar, and Morgan's voice whispered--
"No, no, my lad, leave it to them."
And now for the first time, in a confused way, I understood thatHannibal and Pompey were swimming to my father's help, while I remainedclinging there.
More misty than ever all that follows seems, but I have a recollectionof seeing the two black heads nearing where my father was stillstruggling to keep afloat, drifting farther and farther away, and nextof his being close up to the great fork of the tree some dozen yardsfrom where we clung.
It was no easy task to join them, but the danger was past now, and aftera rest we three--Morgan, Sarah, and myself--managed to get along thebough to where we could reach another, lower down, and level with thewater.
The rest was simple, and before many more minutes had elapsed, we wereall gathered together in the great fork among the huge branches,wringing away part of the water that drenched us, and mentally thankfulfor our narrow escape from death as we revelled in the warm beams of thesun.
Mass' George: A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah Page 18