Read Mass' George: A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah Page 11


  CHAPTER ELEVEN.

  Our first task on getting out of the main river and up our stream to thelanding-place where the boat was made fast, was to get the boy ashore,and it proved to be no light task; coaxing and threats were received inthe same spirit--for of course he could not comprehend a word. All heseemed to realise was that he was in the hands of his enemies; and thatif he could get a chance, he ought to bite those hands.

  "You'll have to be careful, Morgan," I said, as our man stooped down tounfasten the rope which held the boy to the thwart.

  "Careful? What for, Master George? Think I should break him?"

  "No; he bites."

  "Oh, he won't bite me," said Morgan, confidently. "Like to catch him atit."

  He had his wish, for the boy swung himself round and set his teeth hardin Morgan's leg.

  "Oh! Well, he is hungry, and no mistake," said Morgan, freeing himselfby giving the boy's head a sharp thrust.

  "Has he bitten you?" said my father.

  "Well, he have, and he haven't, sir. Breeches was a bit too tough forhim, but he has nipped me finely. Wonderful power in his jaw. No, no,Master George, don't you touch him; he'll have to go in the copperfirst. Ah, would you! Why, he's like a fish, only he arn't hooked."

  For the boy had made a dash for liberty, and it was only after a severestruggle that he was held down, and this time I was the sufferer; for,as I helped to keep him from springing overboard, he swung his headround and fixed his teeth in my left arm in a pinch that seemed to bescooping out a circular piece of flesh.

  "Well, he is a warmint, and no mistake. Let go, will you, sir?"

  "Don't strike the boy," said my father. "Let me get hold of his jaw."

  The boy saw the hand coming and wrenched himself away, seeming to take apiece of my arm with him, and leaving me throbbing with agonising pain,and feeling as if I must yell out and sob and cry.

  "Well done, George!" said my father, pressing my shoulder in a firmgrip. "That's brave; always try and bear pain like a man."

  "But it hurts horribly," I said, with my eyes full of tears.

  "I know it does, my lad, but noise will not ease the pang.--Now, Morgan,you had better fetch another rope and bind him well."

  "S'pose I had, sir. I'd take hold of him and carry him ashore, but he'dhave his teeth into me directly. S'pose people don't go mad after beingbit by boys? On'y feel mad, eh, Master George?"

  I nodded, for I could not trust myself to speak, and I stood looking onas the boy was held back in the bottom of the boat, with my father'sfoot upon his breast.

  "Shall I fetch a rope, sir? Can you hold him?"

  "Yes, I think so. We can manage him between us."

  Morgan leaped ashore, and he was about to go up to the house, when arush and scramble brought him back, for the boy was struggling like aneel; and how he managed I do not know, but he wriggled from beneath myfather's foot, passed under the thwart, and, as I tried to stop him,threw me backwards, and was over the side with a splash and beneath thestream.

  As I uttered a cry of horror I saw the boy's woolly head appear for amoment above the surface, and then go down, weighted as he was by theshackles on his ankles; and, as I gazed, I nearly went after him, theboat gave such a lunge, but I saved myself, and found that it was causedby Morgan leaping back rope in hand, after unfastening the moorings, andit was well he did so, sending the boat well off into the stream,floating after our purchase.

  "See him?" cried my father, eagerly, as he threw off hat and coat readyto dive in.

  "Not yet, sir," said Morgan, standing ready with the boat-hook.

  "I would not have him drowned for five hundred pounds," cried my father."No, no, George, my boy, you must not go after him; his struggles woulddrown you both."

  "Don't see him, sir. Big alligator hasn't got him, has it?"

  "Don't talk like that, man," cried my father, with a shudder; "but youought to be able to see him in this clear water."

  "I see him!" I cried, excitedly; "give me the boat-hook."

  It was passed to me, and after a couple of misses, I felt the hook takehold, drew up gently, and as I hauled in, we found that the boy wascoming up feet first, the iron having passed between the ring of theshackle and the boy's ankle.

  "Steady, my lad, steady!" cried Morgan, as I drew the boy nearer, andthe next minute he was seized and drawn into the boat, feeble andhelpless now, half dead, and making no further attempt to escape as theboat was paddled back toward the landing-place.

  "That's quieted him a bit anyhow, sir," said Morgan. "Won't take hisclothes long to dry, Master George, will it?"

  "Poor fellow! He has been so ill-used," said my father, "that he thinkswe mean to do him harm."

  "Oh, we'll soon teach him better, sir," replied Morgan, as I laid myhand on the boy's side to feel if his heart was beating. "Oh, he arn'tdrowned, sir, and the wash 'll do him no end of good. Here we are!"

  He leaped out, made the boat fast, and then, coming back, was about tocarry the boy ashore; but my father had forestalled him, and stepped outwith the boy in his arms, laying him gently down on the grass, and thenlooking wonderingly at Morgan, who had followed, and knelt down to passa rope through the shackle and make it fast to a ring-bolt used formooring the boat, and driven into one of the tree-trunks close to thewater.

  "Not necessary," said my father.

  "Begging your pardon, sir, he'll come to and be off while we're busyperhaps. Now about the man; I'm rather 'fraid about him."

  "We must get him ashore," said my father; and after securing the boatparallel with the log which formed the bottom of the landing-place, theymanaged to get the poor creature, who was quite an inert mass, out uponthe bank, and then, after placing one of the bottom-boards of the boatunder his back, I joined in, and we dragged him right up to where theboy lay insensible.

  "I'm afraid we are too late," said my father, as he felt the black'spulse.

  "Yes, sir, you've threw good money away here," said Morgan; "he'll neverdo a stroke of work for us, but thank you kindly for meaning help allthe same, and I must try what I can do with the boy."

  "Is he dead, father?" I whispered, in an awe-stricken tone.

  "No, but dying, I am afraid. He has been starved and suffocated in thatvile schooner. Good heavens! How can men be such fiends?"

  "Ay, that can't do no harm," said Morgan, as I filled the boat's balerwith water, and knelt down by the negro's side to begin trickling a fewdrops from time to time between his cracked lips, and sprinkling hisface.

  "I will fetch a few drops of spirit," said my father. "Keep on givinghim a little water."

  He went away toward the house while I continued my task, and Morgan keptup a running commentary upon the man's appearance.

  "Pity, too," he said. "Master oughtn't to have let them cheat himthough, like this. Fine working chap. See what a broad, deep chesthe's got, Master George. Don't think much of his legs, but he's gotwonderful arms. My! What a sight of hoeing I could have got him to do,but it's a case of hoe dear me! With him, I'm afraid."

  "You don't think he'll die, Morgan, do you?" I said, piteously.

  "Ay, but I do, my dear lad. They've 'bout killed him. We want help,but I'm 'fraid all that slave-dealing's 'bout as bad as bad can be.Give him a few more drops o' water; those others trickled down."

  I gave the man a few more drops, pouring them from my fingers almost atminute intervals, but he made no sign. Then, all at once, I felt halfstartled, for a pair of eyes were watching me, and I saw that the boyhad recovered sufficiently to be noticing everything that was going on.

  As our eyes met, he looked at me like a fierce dog who was watching foran opportunity to make a successful snap; but as he saw me trickle a fewmore drops of water between the man's lips, his face suddenly greweager, and he looked at me, found my eyes fixed upon him, and slowlyopened his mouth widely.

  "Want some water?" I said; and I was going to him when he jerkedhimself fiercely away, and showed his beautiful
white teeth at me.

  "Wo ho!" cried Morgan. "Mind, lad, or he'll have his teeth in you."

  "He's thirsty," I said; and I held the tin baler half full of water tohim.

  He looked at me, then at the water, and I could see his lips move andhis teeth part, showing his dry tongue quivering like that of a dog.Then he fixed his eyes upon me again fiercely.

  "Let me give it him," said Morgan, as the boy's mouth opened widelyagain, and there was a pitiful, imploring look in his eyes.

  Now I could not understand all that when I was so young, but I've oftenthought about it since, and seemed to read it all, and how nature wasmaking him beg for water for his parched tongue, while his educationforced upon him the desire to fight me as a cruel enemy.

  "There," I said, going a little nearer, pushing the baler close to hishands, and drawing back.

  He looked at me, then at the water, and back at me, fixing me with hiseyes, as one hand stole slowly from his side towards the baler, drawingit nearer and nearer stealthily, as if in dread of my snatching it away;and then it was at his lips, and he gulped down the contents.

  "There, I'm not going to hurt you," I said, stretching out my hand forthe baler, and getting it, meaning to go and fill it once more; and as Ireturned I saw that he was watching me so wildly that I walked up, withhim shrinking away as far as he could go, and offered the tin to himagain.

  He took it in the same shrinking way, evidently expecting a blow, anddrank heavily once more.

  "Well, he couldn't ha' swallowed much, Master George, else he wouldn'tbe so thirsty," said Morgan. "Now give this here one a dose, though itseems to me labour in vain; only it may make him go off a bit easy."

  He filled the baler, and I knelt down again to sprinkle the poorfellow's temples, and trickle a few drops once more between his lips,the boy watching me the while, and then giving me the first notice of myfather's return by shuffling away in another direction.

  "Poor wretch!" I heard my father mutter, as he gave me a piece ofbread-cake, and pointed to the boy, before taking the cork from abottle, and slowly dropping a spoonful or two of spirit between theman's teeth.

  After this he waited, and I saw that the boy was watching him wildly.Then he poured in a little more, without apparently the slightesteffect, and after looking on for a few minutes, I advanced toward theboy, holding out the cake. But I stopped short, with my hand extended,looking at him, and then, as he took no notice of the cake, but staredwildly at me, I broke off a few crumbs, and began to eat before him,treating him as I would have treated some savage creature I wished totame, and breaking off a piece and throwing it within his reach.

  Then I went on eating again, and after a time I saw his hand stealslowly to the bread, his eyes fixed on mine, and he snatched the pieceand conveyed it to his mouth with a motion that was wonderful from itsrapidity.

  This I repeated two or three times before feeling that I ought now tohave won his confidence a little, when I went close to him, put down thecake, and went back to kneel by my father, whose hand was upon the man'sthroat.

  "Is he getting better?" I said.

  There was a shake of the head, and I looked then with a feeling of aweat the black face before me, with the eyes so close that there was justa gleam of the white eyeballs visible; but as I gazed, I fancied I saw ajerking motion in the throat, and I whispered to my father to look.

  "A good sign, or a bad one, my boy," he whispered. "You had better gonow, back to the house."

  "Yes, father," I said, unwillingly; "but don't you think you can curehim like you did me when I was so ill?"

  "I would to heaven I could, boy!" he said, so earnestly that I wasstartled, and the more so that at the same moment the man slowly openedhis eyes, and stared at us vacantly.

  "It is a hopeful sign," said my father, and he took the baler, pouredout all but a few drops of water, added some spirit, and placed it tothe man's lips, with the result that he managed to drink a little, andthen lay perfectly still, gazing at my father with a strange look whichI know now was one full of vindictive hate, for the poor wretch musthave read all this attention to mean an attempt to keep him alive formore ill-treatment, or until he was sold.

  "Take a little more," said my father, offering the vessel again, and theman drank and once more lay still, glaring at us all in turn.

  "Why, you'll save him after all, sir," said Morgan, eagerly. "Hurrah!"

  But no one paid heed to his remark, for at that moment there was a sortof bound, and we saw that the boy had contrived to force himself so nearthat he could lay his hand on the man's cheek, uttering as he did so afew words incomprehensible to us, but their effect on the man wasmagical: his features softened, and two great tears stole slowly fromhis eyes as we watched the pair, the boy glaring at us defiantly, as ifto protect his companion, and I heard my father say softly--

  "Thank God!"