CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
"Oh--ho--ho--ho--ho! What a lubbly bit fun!" cried Pomp, as soon as thedanger had passed away.
"Why, Pomp!" I cried at last, fiercely, for I was too much astonishedto speak at first.
But he was off along the bank, to stop opposite the smaller batch ofreeds, where he stood with both his fists doubled, stamping his barefeet, and shouting a perfect torrent of abuse at the invisible enemy.
I caught a word here and there, words full of threats of what he woulddo to the "ugly 'gator, nex' time." But I was too much upset to shouttill I had scrambled into my clothes, when I went sharply along the edgeof the pool to where the boy was still shaking his fists, and abusingthe reptile which had nearly scared him to death.
But there was another scare ready for Pomp. Indignation was hot withinme, and I made my presence known by a smart kick with my bare foot whichnearly sent him into the pool again, and a cuff on the side of the headwhich knocked him back.
"Oh--oh--oh! Don't, Mass' George," he bellowed, as he dropped on hisknees and held up his hands; "don't flog um, Mass' George. I nebber,nebber do so no more."
"You rascal!" I cried, catching him by the ear. "How came you to playme that trick?"
"On'y for bit ob fun, Mass' George; on'y for bit ob fun."
"You dog!" I cried, shaking him.
"On'y lil bit o' fun, Mass' George; got de 'gator's head on to frightenum. Nebber tink no 'gator dah, or not nebber done it."
"No, I suppose not," I cried. "How dare you try to frighten me likethat!"
"Say, Mass' George, you pull dat ear right off."
"Serve you right too, sir. You insolent rascal. But I'll tell myfather, and you shall be flogged."
"Oh no, don't do dat ah, Mass' George. Kick um again and pull um oderear. Pomp won't holler much. Don't tell de massa."
"A blackguardly, cowardly trick with that nasty old alligator's head."
"But, Mass' George," cried Pomp, suddenly jumping up, "you no businessbeat kick a boy."
"What, sir!"
"Why, if I no do dat, an de ole 'gator get hold ob de head, he get holdob you, an where you be now?"
My hand dropped to my side, and I stared in a puzzled way at Pomp, whobegan to show his white teeth, as it seemed to me that what he said wastrue, and that if the reptile had not dashed at the boy, and seized theold head thrown at him, he might have seized me and dragged me down.
"Tink I sabe you, Mass' George, and you hab berry narrow scrape; and denyou say you tell de massa, and hab me flog."
"Yes," I said, half aloud, "he might have seized me."
"Oh, he hab you, sure 'nuff, Mass' George, and um be pickin' you bonenow down in de mud--iyah--iyah--iyah!" he roared, in a great burst oflaughter as he turned round to the water, rested his hands on his knees,and shouted--
"How you like big 'gator head, eh? You find um berry hard? Hope youlike um, sah."
He faced round to me again, showing his teeth, and with his eyestwinkling with merriment.
"Don't tell a massa," he said, pleadingly.
I was conquered, for it was clear enough to me now that the boy's prankhad in all probability saved my life. But I still hesitated as I seizedhim by both ears now, and gently swayed his head to and fro.
"Dat's right, Mass' George, pull um hard. I no mine a bit."
"You rascal!" I cried; "will you promise never to do it again?"
"Can't do it again, Mass' George; ugly great 'gator got de head."
"But will you play me such a trick again?"
"Dunno, Mass' George. You pull hard bofe ears togedder, and kick um."
"Where are your clothes?" I said, quite disarmed now.
"In de tree, Mass' George. Hab noder pull."
"No," I said. "Put on your clothes."
Pomp threw himself on the ground and began to howl.
"What's that for, sir?"
"You go tell de capen, and hab poor nigger flog. Ah, Mass' George, youbery cruel young massa."
"Get up, Pomp. I'm not going to tell father, but you shouldn't haveplayed me such a trick."
The boy seemed as if made of india-rubber, for he sprang up, duckeddown, stood on his head, and then went over and over head over heelsthree or four times before leaping up with a loud shout.
"Oh, Mass' George, pull um out; got big forn in um back."
It was quite true, and after I had relieved him of the spine, he ran tothe biggest tree near, climbed up into the fork, and descended directlywith his clothes, into which he slipped--not a long job, for he was bythis time dry, and his garments consisted only of a short-sleeved shirtand a pair of cotton drawers, which came down to mid thigh.
"Now, look here, Mass' George," he cried, excitedly; "you'n me got tokill dat 'gator."
"Yes," I said, "I must lie in wait and shoot him."
"I tink so. What did he come in young mass' bath for? I go fetch umgun now."
"No, no," I said. "It would be no use."
"No," said Pomp, thoughtfully, and then showing his teeth; "too busyfryin' um dinner. Oh, Mass' George, what a bit ob fun!"
Pompey threw himself down, and laughed till the tears rolled down hischeeks.
"I ten times--hund times more frightum than you, Mass' George. I toughtum catch dis nigger for sartum, an' I felt so sorry for you, Mass'George, dat I holler out loud."
"Sorry for me?"
"Yes, sah. What you do widout Pomp?"
"Come along," I said, half surlily, half amused at the easy-going,light-hearted way in which the boy could forget the horrible peril inwhich he had placed himself.
"You berry sorry too, Mass' George.--I know."
"Know what?"
"How catch um 'gator?"
"How?"
"Pompey know. Show um a morrow. Good-bye, sah. Bring you 'noderdinner morrow morning."
He made a mock salutation in the direction he believed the reptile tohave taken, and then together we began to thread our way through thetrees, back toward the clearing, and then after another cautious lookround for snakes made for the garden. But before we were within ahundred yards, Pomp stopped.
"Ole massa in big garden, Mass' George?"
"I don't know," I said. "He was going to be back to dinner."
"I go round de oder way. Mass' say I chop wood, and I was going to chopwood till I hear you say Morgan you go for walk, and I know you go for'wim."
"Well?"
"Pomp very hurt upon Mass' George."
"Oh, were you?" I said.
"Mass' George say cruel fing to Pomp, so um go an' fess de ole 'gatorhead, and undress umself, an' get in de water firs, an' fright um."
"Ah, well, you'll be flogged one of these days, Master Pomp, without mytelling tales of you."
"I 'pose I will," he said, thoughtfully. "No like for Mass' Georgetell, dough."
"Why not?"
"Cos dat hurt Pomp more dan de floggum."
"Nonsense!"
"Eh? Dat nonsense, Mass' George? I don't know. If Mass' Morgan telland get Pomp flog, Pomp holler, `Oh don't, oh don't!' an' fro himself onde ground, an' squiggle an' kick. But soon as done flog um, Pomp rub umback up gen tree, an' nebber mine a bit."
"I suppose so," I said.
"But if Mass' George tell an' get Pomp flog, dunno why, but no use rubback gen de tree. Hurt Pomp all de same."
So Pomp ran off to get round to the wood-shed, where I heard him as Ireached the house chopping away as hard as he could, and making the woodfly; and I need hardly say I did not tell any tales about the boy'strick, though I thought about it a great deal.
My ideas of punishment were not of the flogging kind, but connected withsome way of giving Master Pomp tit for tat by means of a scare; but myinvention was rather at fault, and idea after idea was dismissed as soonas formed. They were not pleasant ideas, some of them, and they wereall wanting in the element I wished to impart.
One of Sarah's wild-plum jam puffs, with a dose of medicine concealedtherein, was dis
missed at once. So was a snake in his bed, becausethere were objections to the trick. In all probability the snake wouldnot stop there; and if it did, as it must necessarily be a harmless one,it would not frighten Pomp a bit, and might suggest the idea of playinga similar trick on me.
I could push him into the water first time we were on the river-bank,but he would only laugh and swim out.
I might lasso him suddenly some day, and tie him up to a tree, and leavehim in the forest without anything to eat for a few hours; but I knewthat I couldn't find the heart to torture the poor fellow like that; andif I could, no knots that I contrived would ever hold him very long.
"Bah! It's waste of time!" I said; and I gave it up, not knowing thatI should soon have something far more serious to think about. For justas I was deep in my cogitations I heard a step, and my father came intosight, looking very hot and tired.
That evening, as we sat together by the light of a candle, with theforest insects humming round, he said suddenly--
"I'm afraid our troubles with the Spaniards are not over, George. Thesepeople are threatening again."
"But that does not matter, does it, father?"
"I don't know yet, my boy. There is a great deal of braggadocio andpride in your Spanish don, and they have plenty of enterprise and fightin them sometimes, as we know by what they have done."
"But will they come and fight against us, father?" I said, eagerly.
"I don't know that they will come and fight against _us_," he replied,dryly.
I felt the blood come up into my temples, and I spoke quickly--
"I know I'm only a boy, father, and not big enough to fight for you, orby your side like a soldier, but I could load."
He smiled and leaned toward me, and patted my shoulder.
"I beg your pardon, George," he said, kindly. "I ought not to havespoken as I did. You are only a boy, and while you are a boy I prayheaven that you may enjoy a boy's happy life, and that we may be freefrom all the troubles that are threatening. I am a soldier, and I havefought in the service of my country."
"Yes," I said, proudly, "I know. Morgan has often told me."
"Morgan ought to hold his tongue, and not put vain notions into yourhead."
"But he said it was glorious, father."
He looked at me sadly, and sighed.
"I am a soldier, George," he said; "but I am afraid that I have verylittle belief in what people call glory. In too many cases thebrilliancy of the glory is dulled with blood and horror too terrible tobe spoken of without a shudder. It is glorious to fight in defence ofyour country, its women and children, or to fight here for our homes;and while I have strength to lift a sword, or voice and knowledge tolead and direct others in such a cause, I will, if it is necessary,fight again. But after what I have been through and seen, I am ready togo down on my knees and pray the God of love and peace and mercy thatneither I nor you may ever see sword flashed or shot fired in angerwhile we live."
He was silent for a few moments, and then he said, cheerfully--
"Come, what did the Latin writer say about a man defending his owncountry?"
"`_Dulce et decorum est_--'" I said, promptly, and then stopped short."I forget the rest, father."
He laughed.
"Our life out here, as the pioneers of a new civilisation, is notconducive to the study of the classics, my boy. It's a rough school,where we have to take care to avoid fevers, and meet Indians, and arethreatened with Spanish aggression, and have to fight for our livesagainst a flood. But there, we have drifted into a very serious talk."
"But I like it, father," I said eagerly, "though I am ashamed to haveforgotten my Latin."
"Ah, well, you will look that passage up in your Horace, and I ventureto say that it will be so impressed now upon your memory that it willnever slip away. There, I mentioned the flood. Flood suggests boat.You said you thought the boat might have been carried up the stream intothe woods somewhere."
"Yes," I said; "the water did come out of the big river and rush upours."
"It is quite probable. You may find it as you say you did the hut.When are you going to search for it?"
"When you give me leave."
"Go when you like. I did think I should have to go again to-morrow tothe settlement to confer with the General and the others, but messageshave again been sent back to the Spanish Governor of Florida, and itmust be many days, perhaps weeks, before we hear again, so you can goto-morrow if you will."
I leaped up from my seat excitedly.
"Where are you going now?"
"To tell Pomp to call me, and ask Sarah to prepare a basket of somethingto eat."
He nodded and took up a book, while after telling our housekeeper of mywants, I ran across the clearing to the edge of the forest to call theboy to get ready.
As I drew near I found Hannibal seated on a stump left by the cuttingdown of one of the trees to make room for the new hut, with his chinresting in his hands.
"Hallo, Han," I said; "anything the matter?"
"No, Mass' George," he said. "I only look up at de 'tars and tink."
"What about?"
"I wonder wedder dey de 'tars I see in my own country."
"Yes," I said; "I do know that. Do you ever want to go back again?"
"Back again, sah?"
"Yes--to your own country."
He shook his head. "No, Mass' George. Too much fight--too much kill--too much sell for slave; nebber go back again."
"Then you are happy here?"
"Yes, sah. Happy here wif Mass' George and de capen. Can't talk.Understand?"
"Oh, yes," I said; "I understand. Where's Pomp?"
"Sleep. Dah! I call um."
"No, no; let me," I said, laughing.
I went into the hut, and there on the blanket in a corner, with hismouth wide open, lay the boy fast asleep.
It was so dark inside that I should not have been able to make him outbut for the gleam of light from the window, which made his teeth justvisible.
I stood looking down at him and listening to his breathing for a fewmoments, before slipping out of the hut, taking my knife from my pocket,and cutting a long twig which I stripped, all but a few leaves at theend. As I came back, Hannibal rose.
"Don't whip, Mass' George," he said in a pleading whisper, as he laidhis hand upon my arm.
"I was not going to," I said, laughing, "only to tickle him."
I saw the big African's teeth gleam, and I stole back into the hut ontip-toe, thinking the while how marvellous it was that a great fellowlike the black, who could have almost crushed me with one hand, shouldbe so patiently submissive, and give up to me as he did.
But that thought passed away as I stood over Pomp and gently tickled himon one cheek. He moved restlessly, and I tickled the other with theleaves. He turned back again, and the end of the twig began to playabout his neck. There was a quick rustle, one hand struck at the twigand Pomp rolled over upon his face. This gave me a good opportunity totitillate both sides of his neck, and he sprang round again.
"Bodder!" I heard him mutter; but I persevered, making the twig playwell about him.
"Bodder de fly!" he cried, viciously; but the twig tickled away, andPomp's eyes were so tightly closed that he contented himself withtwisting and rubbing himself.
"Wait I get up, I mash all de ole fly eberywhere," he muttered.
Tickle--tickle--tickle.
_Slip slap_. Pomp's hands delivered a couple of blows on his bare skin.
Tickle--tickle--tickle.
"You no like me come mash you, eh?"
Tickle--tickle--tickle.
"Yah! You great ugly skeeter, you leave lil nigger go sleep."
"_Buzz_--_buzz_--_hum_." Tickle--tickle--tickle. I made as good animitation as I could of a gnat's hum, and kept up the tickling till hemade two or three vicious lounges out at where I stood in the darkness,and this time he got hold of the twig.
"Eh?" he exclaimed. "Dat not skeeter fly. Dat
you, fader? You let lilnigger go sleep. Keep a 'tick 'till."
"Eh? Who dat? Ah, yah! It you, Mass' George. I know all de time."
"No, you didn't, old sleepy head."
"Eh? Well, what head for at night but sleep um? You want Pomp go after'coon?"
"No; look here, Pomp; we're to go and try to find the boat in themorning. Come and call me as soon as it's day."
"Eh? Why not go now, Mass' George?"
"No, no; I want to go and have a good sleep first. Mind, as soon asit's light; I'll take the gun."
"I call you, Mass' George, widout come an' ticklum wif lil 'tick, ha--ha--ha! I know."
"Good-night."
"Good-night, Mass' George; I come and climb up your window; and you lookout."
"I will," I said to myself as I went away, said good-night to Hannibal,and hurried back to bed, but not till I had carefully fastened my windowajar, so that Pomp could not get it open in the morning. And there Iwas, too much excited by the ideas of the trip to get to sleep. For asI lay there I could picture the little river winding in and out amongthe great trees of the primeval forest, and see it here black as nightflowing sluggishly beneath the drooping moss-hung trees, there dancingin the sunshine that rained down from above, and then on and on inamongst the mysterious shades where in all probability the foot of manhad never trod.
"Oh," I said to myself at last, as I lay listening to the monotonouspiping insect hum, and the bellowings and croakings from the wood, "howhot it is! I do wish it was day."
But it seemed that many hours must elapse before day could come, and ina curious dreamy way I was wandering on and on through the tangled woodclose to the river-bank, when Pomp said in a whisper--
"Hi! Mass' George, you go 'top seep all day?"
I started up to find that I had slept for hours, and light in the shapeof the morning was at the window, in company with darkness in the formof Pomp's black face.