CHAPTER SEVENTY ONE.
THE SIGNAL.
The change in our plans made no change in the direction. We continuedon in the same course. The way to the lake passed by the glade, wherewe had purposed going--indeed, through the middle of it lay the nearestpath to the lair of the runaway.
Not far from the north-east angle of Gayarre's plantation, was the spotwhere I had parted with the black on the night of my adventure with him.It was at this point the path entered the woods. The blaze upon asweet-gum-tree, which I remembered well, showed me the direction. I wasbut too glad to turn off here, and leave the open woods; the more sothat, just as we had reached the turning-point, the cry of the houndscame swelling upon the air, loud and prolonged. From the direction ofthe sound, I had no doubt but that they were already in the cane-field,and lifting our trail of the preceding night.
For a few hundred yards farther the timber was thin. The axe had beenflourished there, as the numerous "stumps" testified. It was there the"firewood" was procured for the use of the plantation, and "cords" ofit, already cut and piled, could be seen on both sides of our path. Wepassed among these with trembling haste. We feared to meet with some ofthe woodcutters, or the driver of a wood-wagon. Such an encounter wouldhave been a great misfortune; as, whoever might have seen us would haveguided our pursuers on the track.
Had I reasoned calmly I would not have felt uneasiness on this head. Imight have known, that if the dogs succeeded in tracking us thus far,they would need no direction from either wagoner or wood-chopper. Butin the hurry of the moment I did not think of this; and I felt reliefwhen we had passed through the tract of broken woods, and were enteringunder the more sombre shadow of the virgin forest.
It was now a question of time--a question of whether we should be ableto reach the lake, summon the Bambarra with his pirogue, and be paddledout of sight, before the dogs should trail us to the edge of the water.Should we succeed in doing so, we should then have a fair prospect ofescape. No doubt the dogs would guide our pursuers to the place of ourembarkation--the fallen tree--but then both dogs and men would be atfault. That gloomy lake of the woods was a rare labyrinth. Though theopen water was a surface of small extent, neither it, nor theisland-like motte of timber in its centre, was visible from the place ofembarkation; and, besides the lake itself, the inundation covered alarge tract of the forest. Even should our pursuers be certain that wehad escaped by the water, they might despair of finding us in the midstof such a maze--where the atmosphere at that season of fall foliage hadthe hue of a dark twilight.
But they would hardly be convinced of our escape in that way. There wasno trace left where the pirogue was moored--no mark upon the tree. Theywould scarce suspect the existence of a canoe in such an out-of-the-wayspot, where the water--a mere stagnant pond--had no communication eitherwith the river or the adjacent bayous. We were leaving no tracks--Itook care of that--that could be perceived under the forest gloom; andour pursuers might possibly conclude that the dogs had been running uponthe trail of a bear, a cougar, or the swamp wild-cat (_Lynx rufus_)--allof which animals freely take the water when pursued. With suchprobabilities I was cheering myself and my companion, as we kept rapidlyalong our course!
My greatest source of apprehension was the delay we should have to make,after giving the signal to the runaway. Would he hear it at once?Would he attend to it in due haste? Would he arrive in time? Thesewere the points about which I felt chiefly anxious. Time was theimportant consideration; in that lay the conditions of our danger. Oh!that I had thought of this purpose before!--oh! that we had startedearlier!
How long would it take our pursuers to come up? I could scarce trustmyself to think of a reply to this question. Mounted as they were, theywould travel faster than we: the dogs would guide them at a run!
One thought alone gave me hope. They would soon find our resting-placeof the night; they would see where we had slept by the pawpaw-leaves andthe moss; they could not fail to be certain of all that; but would theyso easily trail us thence? In our search after the horses, we hadtracked the woods in all directions. I had gone back to the bye-road,and some distance along it. All this would surely baffle the dogs for awhile; besides, D'Hauteville, at starting, had left the pawpaw thicketby a different route from that we had taken. They might go off on _his_trail. Would that they might follow D'Hauteville.
All these conjectures passed rapidly through my mind as we hurriedalong. I even thought of making an attempt to throw the hounds off thescent. I thought of the _ruse_ practised by the Bambarra with the sprayof the loblolly pine; but, unfortunately, I could not see any of thesetrees on our way, and feared to lose time by going in search of one. Ihad doubts, too, of the efficacy of such a proceeding, though the blackhad solemnly assured me of it. The common red onion, he had afterwardstold me would be equally effective for the like purpose! But the redonion grew not in the woods, and the _pin de l'encens_ I could not find.
For all that I did not proceed without precautions. Youth though I was,I was an old hunter, and had some knowledge of "woodcraft," gathered indeerstalking, and in the pursuit of other game, among my native hills.Moreover, my nine months of New-world life had not all been passedwithin city walls; and I had already become initiated into many of themysteries of the great American forest.
I did not proceed, then, in mere reckless haste. Where precautionscould be observed, I adopted them.
A strip of marsh had to be crossed. It was stagnant water, out of whichgrew flags, and the shrub called "swamp-wood" (_Bois de marais_). Itwas knee-deep, and could he waded. I knew this, for I had crossed itbefore. Hand in hand we waded through, and got safe to the oppositeside; but on entering I took pains to choose a place, where we steppedat once from the dry ground into the water. On going out, I observed alike precaution--so that our tracks might not appear in the mud.
Perhaps I should not have taken all this trouble, had I known that,there were "hunters" among those who pursued us. I fancied the crowd Ihad seen were but planters, or people of the town--hurriedly broughttogether by Gayarre and his friends. I fancied they might not have muchskill in tracking, and that my simple trick might be sufficient tomislead them.
Had I known that at their head was a man, of whom Gabriel had told memuch--a man _who made negro-hunting his profession_, and who was themost noted "tracker" in all the country--I might have saved myself boththe time and the trouble I was taking. But I knew not that this ruffianand his trained dogs were after us, and I did my utmost to throw mypursuers off.
Shortly after passing the marsh, we crossed the "big bayou" by means ofits tree-bridge. Oh! that I could have destroyed that log, or hurled itfrom its position. I consoled myself with the idea, that though thedogs might follow us over it, it would delay the pursuers awhile, who,no doubt, were all on horseback.
We now passed through the glade, but I halted not there. We stopped notto look upon its bright flowers--we perceived not their fragrance. OnceI had wished to share this lovely scene in the company of Aurore. Wewere now in its midst, but under what circumstances! What wild thoughtswere passing through my brain, as we hurried across this flowery tractunder bright sunshine, and then plunged once more into the sombreatmosphere of the woods!
The path I remembered well, and was able to pursue it without hesitancy.Now and then only did I pause--partly to listen, and partly to rest mycompanion, whose bosom heaved quick and high with the rude exertion.But her glance testified that her courage was firm, and her smilecheered _me_ on.
At length we entered among the cypress-trees that bordered the lake;and, gliding around their massive trunks, soon reached the edge of thewater.
We approached the fallen tree; and, climbing up, advanced along itstrunk until we stood among its moss-covered branches.
I had provided myself with an instrument--a simple joint of the canewhich grew plenteously around, and which with my knife I had shapedafter a fashion I had been already taught by the Bambarra. With this Icould
produce a sound, that would be heard at a great distance off, andplainly to the remotest part of the lake.
Taking hold of the branches, I now bent down, until my face almosttouched the surface of the water, and placing the reed to my lips, Igave utterance to the signal.