CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
Recollections of sunny days in the cotton-fields, with the men and womencramming the white bursting pods into baskets as they laughed andchattered together, and every now and then burst into some song orchorus, their natural light-heartedness making them, if well treated,forget the bonds from which they suffered. Of those many days in thehot glow, where the men were busy with great chopping-knives cuttingdown the tall, towering canes ready to be piled high in the mule-cartsand borne off to the crushing-mills.
For as time went on the visit of the slave schooner was repeated againand again, and the settlers brought more land under cultivation, and theplace grew more busy week by week.
But at home all remained the same, only that by the help of Hannibal ourgarden increased in beauty and productiveness to a wonderful extent, andPomp and I revelled in the abundance of the fruit.
I used to look at the boy and his father, and wonder how it was possiblefor them to have settled down so contentedly. But they had, and it didnot seem to me that they had a single thought of the past, so light andeasy-going they were.
But I misjudged them, as time proved.
I was merry and lively enough in those days, never happier than whenplaying Morgan some trick to arouse his wrath; but I was the perfectionof quietness compared to Pomp, who was more like a monkey in his anticsthan a boy; and his father, the morose-looking, gloomy slave that he hadbeen, seemed to have grown as full of life and fun as his son.
I don't think that there was anything I could have asked that pair thatthey would not have done. If I expressed a wish to have a pair of youngsquirrels for pets, they were sure to be obtained, just as the raccoonwas, and the woodchuck. If I wished to fish, the baits were ready andthe boat cleaned out; while if I told Hannibal I wanted him to come androw for me, his black face shone with pleasure, and he would toil on inthe hot sun, hour after hour, with the oars, evidently sharing mydelight whenever I caught a fish.
I remember one day when my father had gone across to the settlement onsome business, taking Morgan with him--I think it was to see and selectfrom some fruit-trees and seeds which had been brought over from the oldcountry--that I sat in our room, busy over the study which I hadpromised to have done by the time of my father's return.
As I sat there I glanced out of the window from time to time to seeHannibal toiling away with his hoe, in a great perspiration whichglistened in the sun, but evidently supremely happy, as he chatteredaway to Pomp, who was also supposed to be working hard, but only atpreserving his position as he squatted on the top of a post with hisarms about his knees, and his hoe laid across his head, perfectlybalanced.
I laughed to myself, and then went on with my work, a piece of Latintranslation, for my father used to say, "There is nothing to prevent youbeing a gentleman, my boy, even if we do live out in the wilds."
All at once I heard Sarah's quick step, as she went out of the place,and directly after she was busy over something.
Carelessly enough I looked up, and saw that she was beating and brushingmy father's uniform, previous to hanging it over a rail, so as to guardit from decay by exposure to the sun.
I sat looking at the bright scarlet and gold lace, and saw that she hadbrought out the cap too. Then I went on with my work again, finishedit, and with a sigh of satisfaction put all away, thinking that I wouldgo down to the pool and have a bathe.
The idea seemed good, and I stepped out, thinking what a patient,industrious, careful woman Sarah was, and seeing that she must havefetched is the uniform again, and put it away.
I went through the fence into the garden, meaning to make Pomp go withme, but he was no longer perched on the stump, one of the many left whenthe garden was made; and on looking round for Hannibal to ask where theboy had gone, I found he too had left his work.
"Hasn't finished," I said to myself, for the man's hoe was leaningagainst the tree.
Carelessly enough, I strolled on down to the bottom of the garden,looking at the alligator's great grinning jaws as I went by, and out atthe end, to see if the pair were in the little hut that had been builtfor their use, and a laugh which I heard as I drew nearer told me that Iwas right as far as Hannibal was concerned, while a few excited wordswhich I could not make out proved that Pomp was there as well.
"What are they doing?" I thought to myself; and with the idea of givingthem a surprise, I did not go up to the door, but turned off, walkedround to the back, and parting the trees by whose leaves the place wasshadowed, I reached the little square window at the rear of the house,and stood looking in, hardly knowing which to do--be furiously angry, orburst out laughing.
For the moment I did neither, but stood gazing in unseen. There to myleft was Pomp, both his eyes twinkling with delight, squatting on thefloor, and holding his knees, his favourite attitude, while his thicklips were drawn back from his milky-white teeth, from between which camea low, half-hissing, half-humming noise evidently indicative of hissatisfaction, and in its way resembling the purring of a cat.
To my right, slowly walking up and down, with a grave display of dignitythat was most ludicrous, was Hannibal, his head erect, eyes very wideopen, and arms held firmly to his sides, a position that he must haveimitated from seeing some of the drilling preparations going on at thesettlement, and kept up ever since the scare produced by the coming ofthe Indians and the Spaniards.
The reason for this attitudinising and parading was plain the moment Iappeared at the window and grasped the situation; for it was clearenough--Pomp had seen the gay uniform airing upon the rail, had annexedit, and carried it off to the hut, probably with his father as anabettor, in what could only have been meant for a loan; and he hadfollowed the boy in, and possibly with his assistance put on theclothes, which fitted him fairly well; but his appearance was notperfect.
For there over the white-faced scarlet coat was the shiny black face,surmounted by the military cap worn wrong way foremost, while thebreeches were unbuttoned at the knee, and the leggings were not there,only Hannibal's black legs, and below them his dusty toes, which spreadout far from each other, and worked about in a way most absurd.
But the most absurd thing of all was the aspect of satisfied dignity inthe man's countenance. It was as if he were supremely happy andcontented with himself, the clothes having evidently raised himenormously in his own estimation.
"Now what shall I do?" I thought; "go in and scold them both, or waitand see if they put the things back?"
I was still hesitating and thinking how angry my father would be, when Ifound suddenly that there would be no need for me to speak and upset theequanimity of the happy pair, for all at once I heard a loud exclamationfrom the direction of the house, where Sarah had just come out to fetchin the uniform; and directly after, she jumped at the right conclusion,and made the place echo with the cry of "Pompey!"
The effect was wondrous.
The boy seemed for the moment turned to stone; his jaw fell, and hestared at his father, whose face seemed to grow ashy, and from whoseaspect all the dignity had vanished in an instant.
Then, quick as some wild animal, Pomp sprang at his father, the shockwith which he struck him in the chest causing the hat to fall off backon to the floor as he tore at the buttons to get the coat off.
Hannibal, with his fingers shaking and twitching, helped all he could,and hindered more, while I stood smothering my laughter and waiting tosee the end of the comedy.
Those garments were dragged off doubtlessly much more quickly than theywere put on, and as soon as they were huddled together, father and sonstood listening to Sarah's voice, their eyes starting, and theperspiration standing in great drops upon their faces.
"What will they do next?" I said to myself.
Apparently they had no plans, for Hannibal looked reproachfully at hisson and shook his head at him, his lips moving, and in a low, huskyvoice he said--
"Whatebber will I do!"
A way out of the difficulty seemed to come to the younger black, for he
suddenly darted at the hat, picked it up, and dabbed it down on thebundle of white and scarlet clothes. Then, whispering a few words tohis father--who seemed to be hanging back but to give way at last--theboy ran to the door, dropped down on all fours so as to be hidden by thetrees from the house, and glided off almost as rapidly as somefour-legged animal.
"The young coward, to run away like that," I said to myself, as anotherloud cry of "Pompey, Pompey! Where are you?" came from the front of thehouse.
"Poor old Hannibal!" I thought to myself, as I saw the utterly cowedobject before me, so strangely contrasted with the dignified being ashort time back in uniform, that I could hardly restrain my merriment.
But I did not laugh out, for I was sorry for the poor fellow, and triedto think of some way of extricating him from his difficulty, as he stoodthere with the uniform huddled up in his arms.
Somehow no idea came, only a feeling of anger against the cowardly youngscoundrel of a boy, who had left his father in the lurch.
"If it was only he," I said to myself, "I'd glory in seeing old Sarahpull his ears, a mischievous young dog!"
But there was Hannibal before me, and whenever I looked in the poorfellow's face I never could help a feeling of respectful liking for theunhappy slave whom I had seen lying half dead upon the bank of thestream when we first brought him ashore.
Then with Sarah's voice still heard at intervals raging and storming, Istrove to think of a plan to get the poor fellow out of his hobble,while at the same time, in a confused way, the scene on the bank keptcoming back, and with it thoughts of how the boy had been ready to fightfor his father then, while now he had taken to his heels and fled.
"I don't know what to do," I said at last to myself, as I felt that ourcivilising had spoiled Pomp. "To go and talk to her, and tell her notto make a fuss."
"Pompey! Pompey!" rang out from close by now, and Hannibal let fall theuniform, and clasped his hands.
It was evident that Sarah was coming to see if the boy was in the hut,and there was nothing for it but to bear the blame.
"Pompey! Do you hear me?"
"A--y--ou," came from right the other side of the house. "You call ame, missie Sarah?"
"Oh, there you are, are you?" she cried; and as I peeped through thetrees, I saw her turn sharply round and hurry back, talking volubly thewhile. Then she called again--
"Pompey!"
"Yes, missie."
"Come here, sir."
"You call a me, missie?"
"Yes, you know I called you. Where are you?"
"Hey--oh--hi--ho! Hey oh--hi oh! Ally olly hi--oh--olly olly hi!" camein musical tones from the other side of the house; and as I peeped oncemore through the windows I saw Hannibal's bent back, as he stooped andpicked up the clothes, brushed off some dust, and then with them heldall ready and his face working with excitement, he crept to the door.
"Pompey, do you hear me?" cried Sarah, who was gone up now to the house.
"Hey--oh--hi--oh! Yes, missie, you call a me?" came from a littlefarther away.
"Do you hear what I say, sir?"
"Yes, missie."
"Then come here directly."
"Ole massa go along, an' Massa George a 'top alonga."
"Pompey!"
"Yes, missie; you call a me?"
"Oh!" cried Sarah, fiercely, "just wait till I get hold of you, sir;"and she ran off down the path at the other side of the house, shoutingfor the boy, who kept on answering, and, as I realised now, purposelyleading her farther and farther away to give his father time.
For, stooping low down, and with wonderful speed and agility, Hannibal,who had crept out of the hut, suddenly darted into and down the garden,and as I followed, keeping well hidden among the trees, I saw him reachthe front of the house, shake out the uniform, hang coat and breeches onthe rail, stick the cap on the end, and dart off away in anotherdirection, so to reach the path leading into the forest on the way tothe stream.
I ached with my efforts to keep down my laughter, as I saw him scud off,glad at heart though, all the same, for, poor fellow, he had escaped.Then all at once my admiration for Pomp increased to a wonderful degree,for I heard a howl from the other side of the house, the sound of blows,heavy ones too; and as Pomp shrieked and howled, it was evident thatSarah was cuffing him tremendously.
Her voice grew louder every moment, so did Pomp's cries andprotestations, till I could hear every word from my hiding-place,thoroughly enjoying of course the punishment that had fallen on the boy,while delighted by his ruse to get the clothes back and save his father.
"Oh don't, missie; don't whop a poor lil nigger," came loudly.
"You mischievous--(_bang_!)--young--(_bang_!)--Where are those clothes?"
"No, haven't got 'em, missie; no, haven't got 'em. Oh! _oh_! Oh!"
"Don't tell me your wicked stories, sir. Tell me this moment, or mastershall know, and you shall be flogged. You have stolen them away."
"No, no, missie, Pompey nebber 'teal, no, nebber; wouldn't 'tealnotin'."
"You--(_bang_!)--have taken--(_bang_!)--those clothes away. Where arethey, sir?"
"Oh, don't whip lil nigger, missie. No got no clothes on'y lil cottondrawers, an' lil shirtums," howled Pomp, as he was dragged into sightnow, Sarah holding on tightly by one of his ears.
"And I say you have got them, sir. Nobody else could have taken them,"cried Sarah. "You wicked black magpie, you! Show me this instant whereyou have put them, or I don't know what I won't do."
I knew what was coming; it was all plain enough. But no, not quite all;but I did see the _denouement_ to some extent, for, as Sarah dragged theboy forward, I could contain myself no longer.
"Oh don't, missie!" howled the young dog.
"Oh, but I will," cried Sarah. "I put poor master's uniform on thatrail to air, and--_Well_!"
"Ha--ha--ha--ha--ha!"
I never laughed louder in my life, as I burst forth into quite a yell,for there stood poor Sarah, with her mouth wide open, staring at theuniform hanging on the rail, and then at Pomp, who looked up at her withhis face screwed up in mock agony, but his eyes twinkling with delight.
"Was dem a clothes you gone lose, missie?" he said, innocently; andSarah panted and looked is my direction. "Dat Massa George brass outalarfin for you whip poor lil nigger nuffin tall."
"Oh--oh--oh!" burst forth Sarah at last, hysterically; "it's a shame--acruel shame, Master George, to play me such a good-for-nothing trick."
I ceased laughing directly, and my mouth opened now with astonishment atthe turn things had taken.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, sir," cried Sarah; "and here haveI been ill-using this poor boy because--Oh, Pompey, Pompey, Pompey!"
She caught him in her arms and gave him a motherly hug, while I stoodamongst the trees speechless.
"Missie cry her eyes cos she whip Pompey?"
"Yes, my poor boy," cried Sarah. "But his father shall know. Ah, youmay well stop in hiding, sir; it's a shame." Then, ever so much louder,"It's a shame!"
"Don't 'cold Massa George, missie," said Pompey. "Him nebber donuffin."
"Do nothing, indeed!" cried Sarah. "You come along in with me, and I'mvery, very sorry I whipped you."
"Pompey done mind, missie," said the boy, showing his teeth.
"There, you're a very good, forgiving boy," said Sarah, as she caught upthe uniform to take it in; "and I wish I could forgive myself."
Then, catching Pomp by the arm, she led him into the house, from whichhe soon after returned with a corn-cake and half a pot of prime jam ofSarah's own make.
And there I stood all the time thinking seriously among the trees, andunable to make up my mind what to do. If I did not speak, I should bearthe blame, and Sarah would remain angry with me. If I told all, poorHannibal, who had been led into the indulgence in a bit of vanity by hisboy, would be in disgrace, and I knew that the poor fellow would feel itkeenly. If I did not tell all, that young rascal would triumph in hiscunning and deceit, and
enjoy letting me have the credit of playing thetrick on Sarah.
"I will tell," I said, sharply, as I saw Pomp come out licking his thicklips, and enjoying the jam.
Then I thought of how patiently he had borne Sarah's blows, so as tosave his father from getting into disgrace, and that disarmed me again;so that my mind see-sawed about in the most tiresome way, till I gave upin despair, coming to no conclusion, and leaving the matter to settleitself, but determined to give Master Pomp a good thrashing soon, so asto get some satisfaction out of the affair.
"Pomp," I said, half aloud, "Pomp. Yes, I called him Pomp; and afterwhat I saw in the hut I ought to call old Hannibal Vanity. So I will--Pomp and Vanity. I wish I could make up my mind what to do."
I had something else to think of the next moment, for I heard a shout,and Hannibal himself came running along the path from the stream.
"Hi--hi--Mass' George!" he shouted, breathlessly.
"What's the matter?" I said, running towards the house to get a gun."Here, quick, come in here."
I strained my eyes as I ran, expecting to see Indians in pursuit of him,but he alone was visible, and he pointed, breathless and panting, in thedirection from which he came.
"What is it?" I cried. "What's the matter?"
The answer came in a peculiar, low, hissing, rushing sound, as if astorm were coming through the forest. It ceased directly, and died awayin a low, dull roar.