presently exchanged for springy moss, the character of the treeschanged, the black trunks of cypresses made the gloom thicker. Trailingvines and parasites brushed their faces, a current of damp air seemed toflow just above the soil in which their lower limbs moved sluggishly asthrough stagnant water. As yet there was no indication of pursuit. ButCourtland felt that it was not abandoned. Indeed, he had barely timeto check an exclamation from the negro, before the dull gallop ofhorse-hoofs in the open ahead of them was plain to them both. It was asecond party of their pursuers, mounted, who had evidently been sentto prevent their final egress from the woods, while those they had justevaded were no doubt slowly and silently following them on foot. Theywere to be caught between two fires!
"What is there to the left of us?" whispered Courtland quickly.
"De swamp."
Courtland set his teeth together. His dull-witted companion hadevidently walked them both into the trap! Nevertheless, his resolve wasquickly made. He could already see through the thinning fringe of timberthe figures of the mounted men in the moonlight.
"This should be the boundary line of the plantation? This field besideus is ours?" he said interrogatively.
"Yes," returned the negro, "but de quarters is a mile furder."
"Good! Stay here until I come back or call you; I'm going to talk tothese fellows. But if you value your life, don't YOU speak nor stir."
He strode quickly through the intervening trees and stepped out into themoonlight. A suppressed shout greeted him, and half a dozen mountedmen, masked and carrying rifles, rode down towards him, but he remainedquietly waiting there, and as the nearest approached him, he made a stepforward and cried, "Halt!"
The men pulled up sharply and mechanically at that ring of militaryimperiousness.
"What are you doing here?" said Courtland.
"We reckon that's OUR business, co'nnle."
"It's mine, when you're on property that I control."
The man hesitated and looked interrogatively towards his fellows. "Iallow you've got us there, co'nnle," he said at last with the lazyinsolence of conscious power, "but I don't mind telling you we're wantinga nigger about the size of your Cato. We hain't got anything agin YOU,co'nnle; we don't want to interfere with YOUR property, and YOUR ways,but we don't calculate to have strangers interfere with OUR ways andOUR customs. Trot out your nigger--you No'th'n folks don't call HIM'property,' you know--and we'll clear off your land."
"And may I ask what you want of Cato?" said Courtland quietly.
"To show him that all the Federal law in h-ll won't protect him whenhe strikes a white man!" burst out one of the masked figures, ridingforward.
"Then you compel me to show YOU," said Courtland immovably, "what anyFederal citizen may do in the defense of Federal law. For I'll kill thefirst man that attempts to lay hands upon him on my property. Some ofyou, who have already tried to assassinate him in cold blood, I have metbefore in less dishonorable warfare than this, and THEY know I am ableto keep my word."
There was a moment's silence; the barrel of the revolver he was holdingat his side glistened for an instant in the moonlight, but he did notmove. The two men rode up to the first speaker and exchanged words. Alight laugh followed, and the first speaker turned again to Courtlandwith a mocking politeness.
"Very well, co'nnle, if that's your opinion, and you allow we can'tfollow our game over your property, why, we reckon we'll have to giveway TO THOSE WHO CAN. Sorry to have troubled YOU. Good-night."
He lifted his hat ironically, waved it to his followers, and the nextmoment the whole party were galloping furiously towards the high road.
For the first time that evening a nervous sense of apprehension passedover Courtland. The impending of some unknown danger is always moreterrible to a brave man than the most overwhelming odds that he cansee and realize. He felt instinctively that they had uttered no vaguebravado to cover up their defeat; there was still some advantage onwhich they confidently reckoned--but what? Was it only a reference tothe other party tracking them through the woods on which their enemiesnow solely relied? He regained Cato quickly; the white teeth of thefoolishly confident negro were already flashing his imagined triumph tohis employer. Courtland's heart grew sick as he saw it.
"We're not out of the woods yet, Cato," he said dryly; "nor are they.Keep your eyes and ears open, and attend to me. How long can we keepin the cover of these woods, and still push on in the direction of thequarters?"
"There's a way roun' de edge o' de swamp, sah, but we'd have to go backa spell to find it."
"Go on!"
"And dar's moccasins and copperheads lying round here in de trail! Deydon't go for us ginerally--but," he hesitated, "white men don't standmuch show."
"Good! Then it is as bad for those who are chasing us as for me. Thatwill do. Lead on."
They retraced their steps cautiously, until the negro turned into alighter by-way. A strange mephitic odor seemed to come from soddenleaves and mosses that began to ooze under their feet. They had pickedtheir way in silence for some minutes; the stunted willows and cypressstanding farther and farther apart, and the openings with clumps ofsedge were frequent. Courtland was beginning to fear this exposureof his follower, and had moved up beside him, when suddenly the negrocaught his arm, and trembled violently. His lips were parted overhis teeth, the whites of his eyes glistened, he seemed gasping andspeechless with fear.
"What's the matter, Cato?" said Courtland glancing instinctively at theground beneath. "Speak, man!--have you been bitten?"
The word seemed to wring an agonized cry from the miserable man.
"Bitten! No; but don't you hear 'em coming, sah! God Almighty! don't youhear dat?"
"What?"
"De dogs! de houns!--DE BLOODHOUNS! Dey've set 'em loose on me!"
It was true! A faint baying in the distance was now distinctly audibleto Courtland. He knew now plainly the full, cruel purport of theleader's speech,--those who could go anywhere were tracking their game!
Every trace of manhood had vanished from the negro's cowering frame.Courtland laid his hand assuringly, appealingly, and then savagely onhis shoulder.
"Come! Enough of this! I am here, and will stand by you, whatever comes.These dogs are no more to be feared than the others. Rouse yourself,man, and at least help ME make a fight of it."
"No! no!" screamed the terrified man. "Lemme go! Lemme go back to deMassas! Tell 'em I'll come! Tell 'em to call de houns off me, and I'llgo quiet! Lemme go!" He struggled violently in his companion's grasp.
In all Courtland's self-control, habits of coolness, and discipline, itis to be feared there was still something of the old Berserker temper.His face was white, his eyes blazed in the darkness; only his voice keptthat level distinctness which made it for a moment more terrible thaneven the baying of the tracking hounds to the negro's ear. "Cato," hesaid, "attempt to run now, and, by God! I'll save the dogs the troubleof grappling your living carcass! Come here! Up that tree with you!"pointing to a swamp magnolia. "Don't move as long as I can stand here,and when I'm down--but not till then--save yourself--the best you can."
He half helped, half dragged, the now passive African to the solitarytree; as the bay of a single hound came nearer, the negro convulsivelyscrambled from Courtland's knee and shoulder to the fork of branches adozen feet from the ground. Courtland drew his revolver, and, steppingback a few yards into the open, awaited the attack.
It came unexpectedly from behind. A sudden yelp of panting cruelty andfrenzied anticipation at Courtland's back caused him to change frontquickly, and the dripping fangs and snaky boa-like neck of a gray weirdshadow passed him. With an awful supernaturalness of instinct, it kepton in an unerring line to the fateful tree. But that dread directness ofscent was Courtland's opportunity. His revolver flashed out in an aim asunerring. The brute, pierced through neck and brain, dashed on againstthe tree in his impetus, and then rolled over against it in a quiveringbulk. Again another bay coming from the same direction told Courtlandthat his pursuers had ou
tflanked him, and the whole pack were crossingthe swamp. But he was prepared; again the same weird shadow, as spectraland monstrous as a dream, dashed out into the brief light of the open,but this time it was stopped, and rolled over convulsively before it hadcrossed. Flushed, with the fire of fight in his veins, Courtland turnedalmost furiously from the fallen brutes at his feet to meet the onset ofthe more cowardly hunters whom he knew were at his heels. At that momentit would have fared ill with the foremost. No longer the calculatingsteward and diplomatic manager, no longer