Mass' George: A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah

  CHAPTER FORTY.

  "I am wrong, Bruton," said Colonel Preston, as I finished my narrative,and the last question had been answered--"quite wrong, gentlemen all. Iwas longing to get back to my comfortable home. Come along. I supposewe may have a fresh visit at any time."

  The meeting broke up, and my father led me back to our quarters.

  "I ought not to have let you go," he said. "The risk was too great, butI was influenced by the general opinion. Ah!" he continued, as he sawHannibal standing by our rough tent, "why, my good fellow, you arewounded."

  He laid his hand upon the black's arm, and said something in a lowvoice, but I could not catch his words. I saw Hannibal's eyes brighten,though, and a look of pleasure in his face as he suffered himself to beled to the temporary hospital; and I followed, to find our Sarah sittingup and ready to welcome me with a few sharp snappish words, after herfashion. I have often laughed since at the way in which she showed heraffection for me; for that she was fond of me she often proved.

  "You've come back then?" she said, as I seated myself upon a box.

  "Yes; and I'm as bad as Pomp now," I replied.

  "Oh, I don't doubt that a bit, Master George. What new mischief has hebeen at now?"

  "Getting himself taken by the Indians, and nearly killed."

  "And you have too?"

  "Not taken, but nearly killed."

  "Well, it serves you both right," she cried, with her lips working. "Itwas bad enough to come to this terrible place without you two boys goingand running into all kinds of risks, and getting yourselves nearlykilled. I don't know what the captain has been about, I'm sure."

  "About here," I said, good-humouredly.

  "But tell me at once, sir. What do you mean about being as bad as thatimpudent black boy?"

  "Oh, only that I'm dreffle hungry," I said, laughing.

  "Hungry? Then why didn't you have some food as soon as you got back?"

  "Because I had to go and tell them my news; and then I wanted to see howyou were. How is your wound?"

  "Oh, it don't matter about me a bit. I'm in hospital, and beingattended to, so of course my husband can go on pleasure-trips, and leavehis poor wife to die if so inclined."

  "Curious sort of pleasure-trip, Sarah," I said. "I say, you should seehow Morgan can fight."

  "Fight? Did he have to fight?"

  "Yes;" and I told her what he had done.

  "Oh, what a foolish, foolish man! How could he go leading you intodanger like that?"

  "He didn't. I led him."

  "Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself, Master George. But tell me;why did you go back home?"

  "To see what the place was like, and whether it could be built upagain."

  "Built up? Why, it hasn't been blown down."

  "No; burnt down."

  "Burnt! What, our house?"

  "Yes."

  "But not my kitchen? Oh, Master George, don't say that my kitchen hasbeen burned too."

  "There's nothing left of the place but a little firewood and a fewscuttles of ashes."

  Sarah wrung her hands. "Oh dear--oh dear!" she cried, "why wasn't Itold before?"

  "Never mind; you'll soon be well again. You were not told for fear ofworrying you; and as soon as we have got rid of the Indians my fatherwill have the place all built up again, and it will be better thanever."

  "Never!" said Sarah, emphatically. "But you were not hurt, my dear,were you?"

  "No," I said, "only horribly frightened."

  "No," said Sarah, emphatically, "you may have been startled, my dear,but I'm not going to believe that you were frightened. And you arehungry, too, and me not able to get about and cook you a bit of food."

  "Oh, never mind. Now I know you are better I'll go and get something toeat."

  "Yes, do, my dear, do," she cried, "and make haste. It was very kind ofyou to come. But do, please, do take care of yourself, my dear, anddon't go running any more of these dreadful risks. Then you killed allthe Indians?"

  "They did," I said.

  "That's a comfort," said Sarah. "I'm sorry for the poor savages, butit's their own fault. They should leave us alone. The cowards too--shooting a poor woman like me. Well, there's an end of them now."

  "Of that party," I said. "We are afraid that there will be anotherattack to-night."

  "What? Oh dear me! Now I ask you, Master George, how can I get wellwith such goings-on as this?"

  I did what I could to cheer her up, and went out to find Hannibal justleaving the doctor, and ready to laugh at the wounds upon his arms asbeing too trifling to be worthy of notice. In fact the pains hesuffered did not prevent him from partaking of a hearty meal, at whichPomp stood looking on regretfully. I happened to catch his eye just asI was eating rather voraciously, the excitement and exertion havinggiven me a tremendous appetite.

  "Have some, Pomp?" I said, feeling half guilty at sitting there eating,while the poor boy who had suffered so much in our service should beonly looking on.

  "What Mass' George say?" he replied, coming nearer.

  "I say, will you have something to eat?"

  Pomp sighed.

  "What's the matter?" I asked.

  "Poor Pomp can't."

  "Can't? Why not? If I like to give you some now, no one will sayanything."

  "Poor fellow," I added to myself, "how he remembers that he is a slave!"

  All the time I was cutting him one of the solid slices of bread in whichI knew from old experience he delighted so much, and then carved off acouple of good, pink-striped pieces of cold salt pork. But he drew awaywith a sigh.

  "Why, what's the matter, Pomp?"

  "Eat much, too much now," he said, quaintly. "Pomp can't eat no more."

  The mournful way in which he said this was comical in the extreme, forhe accompanied it with a sigh of regret, and shook his head as he turnedaway, unable to bear longer the sight of the good food of which he wasunable to partake.

  I had hardly finished my meal, and begun to feel a little rested andrefreshed, before I was attracted out into the enclosure where theladies and children, whom I had seen only the day before lookingcheerful and merry, were wearing a wild, scared look as they were beinghurried into the block-house, while the most vigorous preparations werecarried on.

  "They don't mean to be taken by surprise, Morgan," I said, as I ranagainst him, watching. "The Indians may not come after all."

  "Not come?" he said. "What! Haven't you heard?"

  "I--heard?"

  "The message brought in by one of the scouts?"

  I had not heard that any had been sent out, and I said so.

  "The General sent them out directly, and one has come back to say thatthey had found signs of Indians having been about, and that they hadbeen round by our clearing."

  "Yes! Well?" I said.

  "The dead Indians were gone."

  I started at the news.

  "Perhaps they did not go to the right place."

  "Oh, yes, they did," said Morgan, seriously, "because two men told meabout finding the marks close beside the big tree where we had ourfight."

  "Marks?" I said.

  "Yes; you know. Well, they are keeping a good look-out, spread allround, and keeping touch with each other. So you may be sure that theenemy is not far off, and we expect them down upon us before long."

  The thought of all this made the evening look gloomy and strange, thoughit was a glorious sunset, for the clouds that gathered in the west wereto me like the smoke of burning houses touched with fire, and the deeprich red glow like blood. And as I watched the changes, it seemed thatthe softened reflections had turned into one fierce fiery glow that toldof the destruction of the fort and the houses of the settlement, till,as it all died out, the light growing paler and paler, there was nothingat last but the cold grey ashes to tell of where the houses had been.