CHAPTER NINETEEN.
Very little was said for some time, every one being glad of the calm andsilence, and drawing in the genial warmth which was delicious to ourcramped and thoroughly weary limbs.
And as I sat there, gazing out over the waters at what seemed to be avast lake, it did not appear like a scene of desolation, for thesunbeams danced on the rippled water, or turned it to a glitteringmirror, where it flowed calm and still; the trees stood out at intervalsall green and beautiful; and the forest beyond the clearings, thoughdwarfed, was unchanged. Now and then a fish flashed out like a bar ofsilver, and the birds twittered, piped, and sang as if nothing hadhappened. It was only the poor human beings who were helpless, andbeginning to feel, now that the excitement had passed, the pangs of atrouble that it was impossible to meet.
One of my first acts, as soon as I began to grow dry and warm, was totake my knife from my pocket and cut a notch in the tree just on a levelwith the water.
Pomp looked at me and then shook his head.
"No," he said; "no, Mass' George, no get sug gum dah, an' Pomp drefflehungry."
"I know that," I said, rather surlily, for my notch was not meant forthe purpose he thought, and I knew the difference between a cypress anda sugar maple.
"Den what for cut um tree?"
"To see whether the water is rising or going down."
"Not do nuffum," said the boy, eagerly. "'Top so."
"Yes, he is right," said my father, who had been higher up the tree,trying to get a glimpse in the direction of the settlement, in the hopeof help in the shape of a boat being on the way. "The flood seems tohave reached its highest point, and we may begin to hope that it will godown now."
But the hours glided by and there was no help, and no sign of the floodsinking. Pomp was quite right; it did "'top so," and we began to sufferkeenly from hunger.
We had long got well warm in the sunshine, and the thirst we felt waseasily assuaged, though there was very little temptation to partake ofthe turbid water; but our sensations of hunger grew apace, and I sawthat while we white people sat there about the fork of the tree, tryingto bear our sufferings stoically, both the blacks were in constantmovement, and they had always something to say, Hannibal confining hisremarks however to his son.
"Look, look!" cried Pomp, excitedly; "dah um fis. No got hookum line,no got net."
He shook his head despondently, evidently quite oblivious of the factthat even with hook and line he had no bait, and that it was impossibleto use a net.
Then he was off up the tree, first ascending one great bough and thenanother, to lean out, staring away between the twigs in search ofsomething, but he always came down again looking quite disconsolate.
"What have you been looking for?" I said on one of these occasions.
"Simmon tree, Mass' George. No see one nowhere 'bout."
"But you couldn't get there if you could see them."
"No get um?" he said with a laugh. "Pomp no get um? Wait a bit."
"Why, how could you manage?"
"No manage 'tall. 'Wim dah, and 'wim back."
Then we scanned the waste of waters in the hope that we might seesomething, even if it was only some drowned animal, but nothing came insight till well on in the afternoon, when Hannibal made some remarkwhich sent Pompey into a tremendous state of excitement.
"What is it?" I cried, eagerly rising from where I had been down toexamine my notch, to find that the water remained nearly unchanged.
"Pomp and um fader see some fis' good to eat," said the boy. "Comesee."
I climbed up to where he was, and he pointed; but for some time I couldmake out nothing but driftwood, a tree floating roots upward, and somegreat patches of grass that seemed to have been scooped out of a bank,roots and all.
"I can't see anything," I said at last.
"What, not dah?" cried Pomp.
"No."
"All 'long side dat tree?"
"Oh, yes," I cried; "what is it--a big fish?"
"No; dat nice lil 'gator, sah."
"What? Why, we couldn't eat alligator."
"Oh, yes; eat um, got nuffum else," cried Pomp, to my great disgust.
"But even if you would eat the nasty wretch, you can't catch it."
"No," said Pomp. "Tell um fader can't catch. Pomp wish dat, but lil'gator, see um come on, cock um tail up and go right to de bottom. Oh,oh, Mass' George, I so dreffle hungry. Feel as if um eatum own fader."
There was something so comic in the poor fellow's trouble that I couldnot forbear smiling as I went along to where Morgan was seated quietlyenough by Sarah, and I felt something like anger and disgust as I sawthat the former was eating something.
"Oh, Morgan!" I said, sharply; "if I had had something to eat I wouldhave shared it."
"Isn't much, but you shall have some if you like, sir. Sarah here won'ttouch it."
He took a flat brass box out of his pocket, opened it, and held it tome.
"Tobacco!" I said, looking with disgust at the black, twisted leaf.
"Yes, sir, 'bacco keeps off the hunger."
"I'd rather have the hunger," I said; and he shut the box with a snap.
Restless as Pomp now, and growing more and more miserable, I climbed towhere my father was sitting watching one break among the trees in thedirection of the settlement, and he turned to me with a smile.
"Tired and hungry?" he said. "Yes, I know. But patience, my boy,patience. Our lives have been spared, and help may come at any moment."
"But do you think we shall escape?"
"Why not?" he said, calmly. "We were in much greater peril last night."
"Yes, father," I said; "but we weren't half so hungry."
My remark brought the first smile I had seen to his lip for hours.
"Yes, yes; I know," he said; "but patience. I think we shall soon seethe water begin to fall, for when I was at the settlement yesterday, thetide was turning and going down about this time. If it does not takewith it the inundation, we must divide ourselves into two parties, oneto sit and watch while the other sleeps. By to-morrow the flood willeither have fallen, or help will have come."
"Sleep, father!" I said, dolefully; "who can sleep at a time likethis?"
"All of us, I hope," he said. "We shall easily drop off after our pastnight's watch."
"But who could go to sleep feeling so hungry as this?" I protested.
"You," he said, smiling; "and recollect the French proverb, _Qui dortdine_. You know what that means."
"No, father," I said, dolefully.
"Shame! You should not forget your French. He who sleeps dines, myboy."
"Perhaps that's so in France, father, but it isn't so here, in the midstof a flood, and I don't think any Frenchman would say so if he were upin this tree like we are now."
I climbed down again to look at the notch I had made, and see if therewas any difference, then sent up a shout of delight, for the water hadsunk a foot, and was going down so rapidly that I could almost trace itsdescent.
It was as my father had hoped; the flood was running out with the tide;and as the cause was over we had every prospect of being set at libertybefore many hours had passed.
It was the apparent certainty of this hope which enabled us to bearpatiently the rest of our imprisonment, and the pangs of hunger. Fornight came with the water still falling; but the fact was plainly beforeus--we should have to pass one night in the tree.
I looked forward to the long, dreary hours with horror, but aftergetting astride of one branch, and putting my arms round another,feeling half ready to groan with misery, the present dropped away all atonce, and I was conscious of nothing till the sun was brightly shiningagain, when I awoke to find that my wrists were tightly bound togetheron the other side of the great bough I had embraced; and on recoveringmy senses sufficiently to look down, I saw that the water had not alldrained away, there being several feet in the lower part of theclearings, but the house was so nearly standing out clear that t
herecould not have been more than a couple of feet in depth on the floor.
Morgan and Hannibal were already down, wading breast-high towards thehouse; and as my father set free my hands, we prepared to follow.
It was no easy task, for the branches were far apart, and covered withslimy mud, but we descended cautiously, promising to come back withropes to lower poor Sarah and Pomp.
The latter looked gloomy and discontented on being told that he was tostay and keep Sarah company; but he proceeded to walk along to her as welowered ourselves down, and then contrived to be first, for his barefeet slipped on the muddy bough, and he went headlong down splash intofive feet of water and mud, to rise again looking the most pitiableobject imaginable.
"Pomp come up again?" he asked, dolefully.
"No; go and have a good wash," said my father, and as the boy went offswimming and wading, we two descended into the thin mud and water, andmade our way toward the house.
I looked up at my father to see what he would say to the desolation, asI saw the change that had taken place in so short a time, and then,miserably weak and half-hysterical as I was--perhaps that was thecause--I burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. For Pomp hadcome close up behind us, after an expedition to the hut that had beenmade for his home, and his sharp voice rose suddenly just in the midstof our sad thoughts, with--
"Oh! Here a mess!"
Even my father could not help laughing as he looked at the boy.
But there was nothing humorous in the scene to Pomp, who looked up at myfather with his brow knit, and continued--
"Place all gone--wash away, and can't find my tick."
"The hut washed away?" asked my father.
"Iss; all agone."
"Never mind! We must build another. Well, Morgan, can you findanything to eat?"
For Morgan had just waded out of the house again with a basket in hishand, and he hastened to open it and produce a couple of roast fowls anda couple of loaves of bread, the latter all swollen up into a great sop,while the former were covered with a thin coating of mud.
"Quick!" said my father, seizing one of the fowls and cutting it in two;"get a rope from the shed, and the little ladder. Take this to yourwife at once. No; stop a minute. Here, you go, George; there is somewine in the cupboard."
I went splashing through the door, and fetched the bottle, for I knewexactly where it stood; and on my return this was given to Morgan, whowas sent at once to the tree, while we four stood there in the watereating the remains of the fowls ravenously, both Hannibal and Pompevidently enjoying the well-soaked bread, which was not bad to one sohungry as I, after I had cut away the muddy outside.
"Yes," said my father, smiling at Pomp, after we had relieved theterrible cravings of hunger from which we had suffered; "it is a mess.But look, George, the water is still sinking fast."
That was plain enough to see now, and as it went lower and lower, thedamage done, though of course great, was not what might have beenexpected. We had been saved from utter destruction by the fact thatonly a moderate-sized clearing had been made in the virgin forest, whosemighty trunks had formed a natural fence round our house, and checkedthe rush of the flood, which, instead of reaching us in an overwhelmingwave, had been broken up, and its force destroyed before it could reachus.
Even the open fences about the garden had escaped, the water havingplayed freely in and out; and though Hannibal's hut had been lifted upand floated right away, the fence-top was now appearing above the water,and seemed to be quite unharmed.
The water sank so fast now that my father shouted to Morgan to let Sarahstay where she was till there was solid earth for her to descend to, andconsequently he came down to see what he could do to help. Thatamounted to nothing, for until the water had passed away nothing couldbe done, save splash here and there, looking at the fruit-treesbestrewed with moss and muddy reeds and grass, while Morgan utteredgroan after groan, as he at last saw the bushes and the tops of hisvegetables appear covered with slime.
"The place is ruined, sir," he groaned. "Whatever is to be done? Goback to the old country?"
"Get to work as soon as the place is dry," replied my father. "A fewshowers of rain after the sun has dried and cracked the mud will soonwash your garden clean."
Morgan shook his head. "And I don't know what my poor wife will say toher kitchen."
"Ah, now you are touching upon the more serious part, my man," said myfather. "Come, Morgan, you and I have got the better of worse troublesthan this, so set to work, and by some means contrive to get fires goingin each of the rooms."
"With wet wood," said Morgan, grumpily.
"Why, it's only wet outside," I cried. "Here, Pomp, try and find thelittle chopper. Know where it is?"
"Ise know where chopper, but de hut all gone away."
The wood-shed was standing though, and before very long, with Hannibal'shelp, a good basketful of dry wood was cut; and after a long struggleand several dryings in the hot sun, the tinder and matches acted, andbig fires were blazing in the house, whose floors were now only coveredwith mud.
Already the thatch and shingle roof had ceased to drip, and was rapidlydrying, while by midday Sarah was busy at work with brush and pailcleansing the floors, and keeping the two blacks and myself busybringing things out to dry, while Morgan was removing mud from thevarious objects within the house.
The main difficulty we had to encounter was how to find a dryresting-place for the night. Sheets and blankets promised to be quitefit for use by sundown, but the question was where to lay them. Everyone naturally objected to the trees, and the ridge of the roof was nomore inviting than on the first night. But a little ingenuity soon putall right. Timber was so plentiful with us that poles and planks laypiled up at the back of the house, and after a number of these had beenhunted up, from where they had floated among the trees, and laid in thefull sunshine, a platform was built up high above the muddy earth, andthen another upon which pine boughs were laid, and good, dryresting-places contrived for our weary bones.