CHAPTER XV.
CHARLEY BLACK'S ADVENTURES.
"Now then," said Jack, when breakfast was fairly begun, "tell us allabout it, Charley."
"Well," replied Charley, "you know we're Robinson Crusoes."
"Oh! stop your nonsense and tell your story," said Ned, who was wildlyimpatient to hear of Charley's adventures.
"That's just what I am telling," answered Charley. "As I said, we'reRobinson Crusoes and I've seen the savages."
"What _do_ you mean?" asked Jack.
"Why, Friday, of course, but that's a mistake too. His real name must beThursday, and he isn't tame either. Really I begin to believe RobinsonCrusoe fibbed."
"Have you gone crazy, Charley, or what is the matter?" asked Ned,beginning now to be really alarmed lest his comrade's experience,whatever it had been, had unsettled his mind.
"I never was more rational in my life," replied the boy, with a smile;"but you won't let me tell my story in my own way. Listen now and don'tinterrupt. You remember how frightened Crusoe was when he discovered thefootprint in the sand?"
"Yes, certainly."
"And how he afterward found the savage who made it, and how disturbed hewas to learn that he was not really monarch of all he surveyed?
"Yes; well?"
"Well, I've been through a similar experience, only more so. This islandis not uninhabited as we supposed. There are savages on it, and they arenot tame savages either, like Crusoe's man Friday, but decidedly savagesavages. My man Thursday is, at any rate. You see I call him Thursdaybecause I first saw him yesterday, and that was Thursday. That's the wayCrusoe hit upon a name for his savage, you remember?"
"Yes, but tell us about it," said Jack.
"Listen, then. You know I went out to the rice patch and brought in oneload. Then I went for another, and after I filled the trowsers, Iconcluded that I'd walk down toward the shore and return by that route.As I went along by the edge of the rice patch about sunset, I saw afootprint, just as Crusoe did, but I didn't study it long, for presentlyits owner appeared. He was a big savage, and black as night, and not inthe least peaceful. Indeed he seemed very angry with me for some reason,for he came running toward me, jabbering in his strange language andsetting his dog on me. I ran as fast as I could toward that piece ofwoods over beyond the rice swamp--more than a mile away from here, youremember, and on the other side of the island. I had a good start, butit was a close shave. As I approached the woods I picked out the tree Imeant to climb, and when I got to it I went up faster than I everclimbed before, for the big ugly dog was close behind me. He jumped upafter me, but I drew up my leg and he missed the foot he wanted.
"I was tired, and was awfully out of breath; but I thought I had only towait until the big negro should come up--I could see him coming. Then Iwould argue the matter with him and get him to be reasonable and calloff his dog. You see I took him for a negro, and didn't suspect that hewas a savage. I soon found out my mistake, however, for when he came upand began swearing at me--I'm sure it was swearing, though, of course, Icouldn't understand a word of it--I found that he talked Savage anddidn't understand a word of English.
"I was in a fix. My tree was about a mile and a half from camp, even ifyou measure the distance in a bee line, so there was no use in shoutingfor assistance. There stood the raving savage jabbering at me, andthreatening me with his club; and, worse still, there stood his dog atthe foot of the tree waiting for a dish of Charley Black for supper. Ireasoned with the savage, but he didn't understand me any more than Iunderstood him. The more I talked the madder he got. Then I rememberedhaving read somewhere something about the 'eloquent language' ofgestures, signs, and all that, which all human beings are supposed tounderstand, so I tried that awhile. I shrugged my shoulders, waved myhands about, motioned to him to call off his dog and go home, and didother things of the sort; but it wasn't of the least use. That savagepersisted in misunderstanding me, and his dog got madder and madder.Finally, just to see if the benighted idiot could understand signlanguage at all, I put my thumb to my nose and twiddled my fingers athim, at the same time shaking my other fist. He understood that, andtook further offence at it. In his rage he tried to climb my tree to getat me, but he was a rather clumsy climber and made little head-way. Whenhe got within reach I struck him a sudden blow with your trowsers, Jack,which, being filled chock full of rice, made a pretty good club. Hedropped like a shot squirrel, and his dog, thinking that I had fallen,made a rush for him. For a moment I flattered myself that now I shouldget away while the savage and the dog were explaining matters to eachother; but in that I was disappointed. The dog found out his mistakeinstantly, and the savage got up, madder than ever. It was getting darkby that time, but the savage thought he would have a game of bat andball with me while the light lasted, anyhow, so he took good aim andthrew his club at me. I caught it a sharp blow with your trowsers, andknocked it back to him. He threw again with the same result. The thirdthrow went wide of the mark, and so I missed, but it didn't matter, forthere was no catching out to be done in that game--I suppose the savagedon't understand the rules of bat and ball.
THE ELOQUENT LANGUAGE OF GESTURE.]
"Finally, after he had thrown a good many times, his club lodged in thetree, and I climbed up and got it. It was a good stout club--there itlies by the fire--and I thought I might have use for it, so I didn'tthrow it back at the savage's head, as I at first intended, but kept itfor future use.
"Night came on and the savage seated himself to watch me. He kept veryquiet, and made his dog stop growling and snarling. At first I didn'tunderstand this. I began to think that he was going to offer me terms,but he didn't. At last I saw what he was at. He was waiting for me tofall asleep and drop down!
"There was nothing for it but to keep awake, and as it was very cold Ihad to climb about a little to keep myself comfortable, and that kept meme from falling asleep.
"The worst of it all was that I could see the big fire you fellows made,and knew what anxiety you were suffering. I sat there in the dark, hourafter hour, worrying and wondering if the daylight had forgotten tocome, and it was an awful time. The rain came on at last, and I wasquickly wet through. The savage couldn't sit long on the ground when thefloods came, so he got up and moved uneasily about, but he wouldn't goaway. His persistence was 'worthy of a better cause.' After a littlewhile he began to collect bushes to make himself a shelter, I suppose,or to sit on, or stand on--I don't know what. It was slow work in thedark, and he had to go away some little distance to get what he wanted.While he was away on one of these little trips an idea occurred to me,but as he was already on his way back I could not act upon it at once,so I sat still and waited. He went away again, fifty or seventy-fiveyards into the woods--I could tell by the noise he made breaking bushes.Then I tried my plan. Climbing down to the lowest limb of the tree, Icould see the dog, dark as it was, standing ready to receive me.Grasping the club in my right hand, I dropped a pair of trowsers full ofrice. The dog, mistaking the bundle for me, was on it in an instant, andthe next instant I was on him. I dropped on him purposely, and luckilymy left foot struck his neck. Of course I could not hold him long inthat way, but still it gave me a moment's advantage, and during thatmoment I managed to deal the brute two or three blows over the headwhich, I think, must have crushed his skull. At any rate he grew limberunder me and never uttered a sound. Hurriedly picking up the trowsersand swinging them around my neck, I was about to run when Mr. Savagecame running out of the woods. I still had the club in my hand, andquick as lightning I struck him with it and took to my heels. How badlyI hurt him I don't know, but not so badly as could have been wished, forhe paused only for a few seconds. Then he gave chase. I ran with all mymight, with him just behind. Presently I struck something with myfoot--a grape-vine I suppose--and came very near to falling, but managedto save myself. Mr. Savage Thursday was not so lucky. He struck the vinefairly and came down like a big tree trunk. For a second he uttered nosound. Then I could hear him swearing in Savage, but by this time I wasfi
fty yards ahead of him, and by the time that he decided whether toresume the chase or not I was too far away to inquire what his decisionwas. It was so dark that if he had followed he couldn't have found me,so I slackened my pace, and not long afterward dropped into a walk,listening occasionally to hear if he was coming. Hearing nothing, Iplodded on. I didn't know just where I was, so I thought my best planwas to keep straight on until I struck the shore. I passed a group ofhuts about a mile from my tree, and I suppose the savages live there, asI heard dogs barking, but I didn't stop to inquire. Finally I came tothe beach, and, believing that I was more than half way round theisland, I turned to the right and followed the shore till I got to camp.There, that's the whole story of the strange adventures of MasterCharles Black, of his exploration of Bee Island, his encounter with thesavage, and his fortunate escape and return to his companions. How didyou hurt your foot, Ned?"
Ned, who had risen and was limping about the fire, explained his mishap,and in their turn he and Jack told Charley of the events of the night asseen from their point of view. Their story was less exciting thanCharley's, but he was deeply interested in it.
The Wreck of the Red Bird: A Story of the Carolina Coast Page 16