Mass' George: A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

  I quite started as a hand was laid upon my shoulder.

  "Thinking, George?" said my father. I told him I had been watching thesunset. Shame kept me from saying more.

  "Ah, yes," he said, sadly. "It was very glorious. What a pity that thebeautiful land over which such a sun shines should be spoiled bybloodshed!"

  "Do you think the Indians will come to-night?" I said, a littlehuskily.

  He was silent for a few moments, and stood gazing in my face.

  "Afraid?" he said, with a smile.

  "Yes, father," I said, frankly. "It makes me feel afraid. But when allthe fighting and excitement is going on I don't feel to mind it half somuch."

  "That is human nature, my boy," he said, smiling. "No doubt there aremen who never know what fear is, but they must be very rare. I haveknown very few."

  "But you, father?" I said, excitedly. "You never knew what it was tobe afraid?"

  He laughed as he pressed my shoulder with his hand.

  "Always, my boy, when I am going to encounter danger, and from theGeneral downward, I think I may say we all feel fear. It is no disgraceto a brave man to shrink from that which he has to encounter. Why, myexperience teaches me that those men who think and feel in this way dothe bravest deeds."

  "Then I needn't be ashamed of feeling a little alarm--I mean being a bitof a coward now, father?"

  "No," he said, with a peculiar smile. "But as it is highly probablethat we shall be attacked to-night, it would be as well to be careful.The women and children are all in the block-house now; the men will bestrongly posted at the gates and palisade, while the reserves will be infront of the block-house, in our rough outer works, ready to go to anymenaced point or to cover their comrades if they have to retreat, and weare compelled to take to the block-house as a last resource.--There: Imust go. You are tired, boy. You have had a long and perilous day.I'll excuse you from everything to-night, and you had better get to theblock-house and have a good night's rest."

  "Oh, don't say that, father," I cried, dolefully. "Go and be shut upthere with the women and children!"

  "What do you wish to do, then?" he said, still smiling in a peculiarway.

  "Be about here, and go round to the different sentries."

  "With arrows flying, perhaps."

  "But it will be dark, and they are not likely to hit," I said."Besides, I might be useful fetching ammunition and helping to load."

  "You can stay about," he said, clapping both hands on my shoulders, andlaughing. "I don't think you need be ashamed of your cowardice, myboy."

  He walked away, leaving me feeling puzzled, for I hardly knew what hemeant, whether he was joking me or laughing at me for what I said. Butit was all put out of my head directly by a little bustle at the gate,where the men who had been scouting were beginning to return, so as tobe well in shelter before it grew dark; and as I followed them up, thereport they made to the officers soon reached my ears.

  It was very brief: they had seen no Indians, but had followed the trackof those who had fetched away the bodies of their dead, and traced themto a portion of the forest some six miles away, when, not feeling itwise to follow farther, they had come straight across country home.

  There was neither moon nor star that night, as, with every lightcarefully extinguished in camp, patient watch was kept, and every eyefixed from three of the sides upon the edge of the forest beyond theplantations. So still was everything that, save when a faint whisperrose when an officer went round, the place might have been unoccupied.

  But the hours glided by with nothing to occasion the slightest alarm, aswe all listened to the faint sounds which came from distant forest andswamp. So still was it that even the splash of some great fish in theriver reached our ears as we leaned over the great fence by the gateway.

  I had been round the enclosure with my father twice in the course of theevening, for though tired I was too much excited to sleep. Then I hadbeen and had a chat with our Sarah, in the hospital-room, and after thatgone to the little side shelter by our tent, where Hannibal and Pompwere both sleeping as peaceably as if there were no danger in the air.

  As I stood looking down at them, it was with something like a feeling ofenvy, for I was terribly heavy, and would gladly have lain down tosleep, but it was impossible then; and as I left them and crossed thegreat enclosure, I heard a low whispered conversation going on just infront, and as I stopped short a hand caught mine, and said sternly--

  "Who is this? Oh, it's you, young Bruton. No alarm, is there?"

  It was Colonel Preston who spoke, and after telling him that all seemedquiet I passed on, and in an uneasy way went from sentry to sentry tosay a word or two to each, as I inquired whether my father had been by.

  He had not, so I went on till I came to the corner of the enclosurefarthest from the forest, where I could dimly see the man on dutystraining himself over the great fence; and so occupied was he in gazinginto the distance that he did not notice my presence till I spoke."You, Master George?"

  "You, Morgan?"

  "Why, I thought you'd ha' been asleep."

  "No; I could not go," I said. "But why were you looking out there?"

  "I don't know, my lad," he whispered. "This sort of work puts one allon the screw and fidget. I do nothing else but fancy all sorts ofthings, and keep finding out I'm wrong."

  "But the Indians are not likely to come this way," I said. "It is toofar from the forest."

  "Then the more likely, my lad. But speak lower. Now look straight outthere, and try if you can see anything."

  I looked out in the gloom in the direction indicated, and said softly--

  "Yes, I am looking."

  "Well, what can you see?"

  "A house."

  "Yes, that's right; just dimly showing against the sky."

  "Well, what of it? It is Colonel Preston's."

  "I didn't know for certain, but I thought it was his. Well, look again;can you see anything about it?"

  I looked, making a telescope of my hands, and then laughed to myself.

  "As I watched it, Master George, it seemed to me as if there was someone moving about it. I'm sure I saw men against the sky."

  "Why, Morgan," I said, "what you see is those tall, thin cypress treesstanding up at the ends. They do look something like people, but theywould be folks twenty feet high."

  "Nonsense, sir! Look again."

  I did look again, and, very dimly-seen against the sky, I fancied Icould see something moving, and I had no doubt now about its being thecolonel's house, for it was the only one standing on raised ground.

  "Well," whispered Morgan, "what do you make of it now?"

  "Nothing. One's eyes get dizzy and misty with looking so long. Ibelieve it is only fancy."

  Morgan gazed long and eagerly for quite a minute before he said in alow, excited whisper--

  "Then fancy's precious busy to-night, Master George. I got to bewonderful powerful in the sight during the wars, being out on videtteduty. I say there's something wrong there."

  I looked again, but I could not distinguish anything, and I said so.

  "Look here, sir," whispered Morgan, "I don't like to give an alarm fornothing, but I can't rest over this. Will you ask the captain to come?"

  "Tell you what," I said; "I'll fetch Pomp first. He has eyes like acat."

  "The very thing, sir. Fetch him," whispered Morgan, and I hurried backto our quarters, roused up Pomp, who was ill-tempered at beingdisturbed, and taking him by the wrist I led him to Morgan's post,telling him in whispers the while what I wanted of him.

  "But it all dark," he said, peevishly. "How Pomp go to see in um dark?Wait till a-morrow morning."

  "Come, Pomp," I said; "don't be foolish. You have such good eyes, andwe want you to see."

  "No; not good eyes," he said. "All seepy now out ob 'em."

  "Hush! Don't talk," I said, gently.

  "How Pomp see which way um go if do
n't talk lil bit? I tink you berrycross on poor lil nigger, Mass' George."

  "Hist! Here we are."

  "Hah! Now we shall see," said Morgan, eagerly. "Come, Pomp, look overyonder--straight away beneath that tall tree that goes to a point. Nowthen, what can you see?"

  "House," replied the boy, shortly.

  "Well, what else?"

  "Lot man coming and going way 'gain."

  "There!" said Morgan, triumphantly. "Now, Master George, was I right?"

  "Who are they, Pomp?" I whispered. "Look, quick!"

  "Pomp can't look, so 'leepy."

  "But you must."

  "Pomp go back--go 'leep."

  "No, on, please look again. Oh, Pomp!"

  "Mass' George want Pomp look?"

  "Yes, yes."

  "Mass' George won't call Pomp 'tupid lil nigger 'gain?"

  "I'll promise anything, only pray look."

  The boy rested his chin on the fence, and gazed again, while I couldhear my heart going _thump_, _thump_ with excitement.

  "Lot men. All black dark."

  "Black?" I said, eagerly. "You don't mean the slaves?"

  "Pomp nebber say dey nigger. Pomp say all black."

  "Don't talk so loudly," whispered Morgan, eagerly.

  "Pomp no want talk loud. Pomp go back 'leep."

  "No, no, pray look again and tell me, Pomp," I whispered.

  "Mass' Morgan talk sabbage. Want to flog Pomp."

  "No, no, he does not, and I want you to look and tell me."

  "Pomp look and tell Mass' George, but now too 'leepy, an' eye all 'ticktogedder much, tell Mass' Morgan."

  "Then tell me," I whispered.

  He looked again, then seemed suddenly to grow interested, and as excitedas we were, as he caught my arm.

  "Dem Injum!"

  "There, Master George. Quick! Fetch the captain."

  "No, no, fire and give the alarm," I said.

  "No. Better not. It will alarm them too. Go and fetch the captain."

  I hurried away, closely followed by Pomp, and luckily found my father onhis way to go the rounds in company with Colonel Preston.

  I told them what we had seen, and they hurried with us to the spot whereMorgan was on duty.

  "It can only mean one thing," said the colonel, excitedly. "They wouldnot trouble much about plunder."

  "What do you mean then?" said my father; "a point from which to attack?"

  "No," said the colonel, hoarsely. "That!"

  As he said the words, there was a faint gleam of light in the directionof the house, a flash, then quite a burst of ruddy flame; and by thetime we reached Morgan, his face was lit up by the glow as the woodenstructure blazed away rapidly, and the flames like great golden tongueslicked at porch and veranda; while from one window, which showed quiteplainly, so great a volume rushed out that it showed where the house hadbeen fired.

  There was no need to sound an alarm, the great golden fire-flag whichfloated in the darkness of the night brought every man out to gaze; andas the flames mounted higher, illuminating the settlement far and near,the other houses stood forth plainly, the trees seemed turned to gold,and the wavy corn and cane came into sight and died out again in a waywonderful to behold.

  "Preston! Bruton!" said a firm voice, "round to the men. Every one onhis guard. Reserves in the centre ready. This is a ruse to take ourattention prior to an attack."

  I looked up admiringly at the stern old man, who gave his orders sopromptly, and then saw my father and the colonel hurry off, while theGeneral shaded his eyes, and looked keenly over the place.

  "No," he said, as if to himself, as he drew back. "Ah, you boys! Youreyes are young and sharp. Try if you can see the Indians crossing alongby the edges of either of the plantations, or coming this way."

  "No, sir," I said, quickly. "I have been trying to see them."

  "Injum gone round dah," said Pomp, pointing.

  "Ah!" cried the general; "you saw them?"

  "Yes; gone dat big house."

  "Mine," said the General, with a quick catching of the breath. "Yes;there is no doubt about that."

  For as we were speaking, a tiny tongue of fire began to creep up one ofthe pine-tree supports of the porch, which, quite invisible before, nowstood out plainly, and in a very few minutes was blazing furiously,while a light from the back showed that it had been fired there as well.

  "Watch for the men who are doing this, my boy," said the General."Here, sentry, can you use that piece of yours?"

  "Middlin', sir, middlin'," replied Morgan.

  "Then wait till you see one of the wretches, and try and bring him down.No," he said, directly after, "it would be useless. It would have nogood effect."

  The Indians who had fired the General's house must have stolen off bythe back, for Pomp did not see them go; and we were not long in learningthat they were busy still, for at intervals of only a few minutes, sixmore of the best of the settlers' houses were blazing furiously,lighting up the whole of the clearings, while the sparks ascended ingreat clouds, and floated gently away as if a fall of snow had beensuddenly turned into gold.

  Overhead a cloud of wreathing smoke rolled over and over, turned ruddyby the burning homes, as if a second fire were in the heavens, andreflecting the light so that the block-house and the encumberedenclosure, with its piles of boxes and rough furniture, with here andthere a tent, rapidly grew lighter and lighter, but with shadows ofintense blackness marked out where the light did not fall.

  So clearly did the defenders' faces show now, as they sheltered behindthe defences, that had there been high ground near that the enemy couldhave held, our position would have been bad, so excellent a mark shouldwe have made for the Indian arrows. But, fortunately for us, save whereColonel Preston's house stood, the land round the fort was absolutelyflat, and the Indians could not very well get into position for attackwithout exposing themselves to a rain of bullets.

  Our officers were soon fairly well satisfied that if an attack werecoming it would be from the dark side, and there our forces wereconcentrated to stand waiting, while scarcely any one but the sentriesstood at the fence nearest the house and watched the flames.

  Had the houses been together, the whole place would have been rapidlyburned down; but, fortunately for us, each little house stood in themiddle of its own plot, fifty, a hundred, and sometimes several hundredyards apart, so that they burned as so many separate fires, othersspringing up in various directions till twelve were blazing, and noeffort could be made to check the flames.

  "It would only be sending men to their death," I heard my father say asI stood near, hot with impotent rage.

  "Yes. It is impossible to do anything," replied the General. "If wewere free to act, our whole force could not save the houses; and Icannot set the men to work with their buckets in the blazing light, tobe shot down by the arrows of the Indians hidden somewhere in thedarkness."

  As the twelfth house blazed up, with the Indians still cunningly keepingout of sight and crawling among the trees or crops, we all stoodwatching the houses left, wondering which would be the next to burst outinto flame; but now we waited in vain, for the destruction had ceased asfar as fresh additions were concerned. But the doomed dwellingscrackled and flashed, and every time a beam or a ceiling fell in, theheavens were brilliant with the great bursts of sparks, which eddied androse higher and higher, to join the great cloud floating quietly towardthe now golden river.

  Still there was no sign of Indians; and at last my father walked roundto the other side to join the most keen-sighted of our men in thelook-out for the enemy, who was momentarily expected to be detectedcreeping up.

  From where I now stood I could hear the buzz of voices in theblock-house, where the whole of the occupants were watching thedestruction--in twelve of the cases this being the sweeping away of atreasured and peaceful home.

  By degrees the exclamations and words of sorrow--more than once mingledwith sobs--grew fainter, and there was a terrible si
lence, through whichcame the sharp hissing and crackling of the burning wood, with again andagain a dull thud as some beam went down. At such times the flamesseemed to glow with twofold brilliancy, and the sparks were doubled insize, while after a few minutes the fire, that had been temporarilydamped, blazed up higher than ever.

  "If we only had the orders to shoot," I heard one man say to another, "Iwouldn't care then."

  "But there's nothing to shoot at," was the reply. "I say, though, I'vebeen thinking."

  "What?"

  "Suppose that they could manage to set fire to the block-house here."

  "Don't talk about it, man. What? With those women and children there!No; we must shelter them from that, even if we die for it."

  I was standing with my father when Colonel Preston's house had beenreduced to a glowing heap of embers, and he came up to my father to sayin a light, cheerful way--

  "Ah, I've been looking for you, Bruton. I wanted to tell you that Ithoroughly understand now what your feelings must have been like theother night."

  "Don't talk about it," said my father.

  "Oh, I don't know," said the colonel. "It's painful, but one knows theworst."

  "No," said my father, sadly; "unfortunately we do not know the worst."

  "What do you mean? We can soon set to work and rebuild. The ground isclear. We cannot be so badly off as when we first landed."

  "I was thinking," said my father, in a low voice, "that the enemy hasachieved his work for the night, but to-morrow they will continue thishorrible destruction, and the next night and the next night, till thepalisade and the block-house only remain. Then the worst will come."

  "They will try and fire that?" said the colonel, in a whisper.

  "Yes. We have a deadly foe to combat, and one full of cunning."

  "But we must never let him and his fire-fiends approach the place,--wemust make an outer palisade."

  "Of brave men?" said my father. "Yes; I had thought of that; but thedanger cannot be stopped that way. They will fire the place withoutcoming close."

  "How?" cried the colonel.

  "With winged messengers," said my father; and I felt what he was goingto say before he spoke.

  "Fiery arrows? I see what you mean. Pray heaven they may not think ofsuch a hideous plan. But if they do, Bruton, we are Englishmen, andknow how to die."

  "Yes," said my father, sadly. "If the worst comes to the worst, we knowhow to die. Well, there will be no attack to-night," he continued; andhe turned round and seemed to realise the fact that I was there, havingforgotten my presence in the earnestness of his conversation with thecolonel.

  "Ah, George," he said, "I did not think that you were there to hear whatI said. Did you catch it?"

  "Yes, father," I said in a hoarse voice.

  "What did I say?"

  "That we should know how to die."

  There was silence then, and the ruddy glow in the smoke-clouds began todie away, leaving everything dark, and cold, and depressing; so that thecheerful words of the various officers now, as they talked encouraginglyto the men, appeared to have lost their power.