CHAPTER FORTY NINE.

  "It was a mistake--a mistake," said my father, excitedly; "but I mighthave made it if I had been in the hurry and excitement there. Restinghere I had plenty of time to think."

  At that moment the firing began to be fiercer, and my father groanedaloud.

  "Oh, it is pitiable!" he said, "obliged to lie by here, and not able tohelp. Here, George, go to the front; don't get into danger. Keep wellunder cover. I want you to take pity on me, my boy. Do you hear?"

  "Yes, father; but I don't understand."

  "Can't you see my position? I am helpless, and my friends andcompanions are fighting for our lives. I want you to keep running toand fro so as to let me know what is going on, and--mind this--keepnothing back."

  "Nothing, father?" I said.

  "Nothing."

  I hesitated a few moments, and then with the reality of the horrorimpressed more and more by the shouting, yelling, and rapid firing goingon, I told him about Morgan and the other men, even to finding theopened keg and loose powder.

  "Great heavens!" he muttered as I finished; and I looked at him to hearwhat more he would say, but he remained silent.

  "Shall I send Morgan to you, father?" I said.

  He remained silent for a few moments, and then said softly--

  "No."

  There was another pause, during which the firing grew more fierce.

  "George."

  "Yes, father."

  "Go to and fro, as I told you, and keep me well informed till you thinkmatters are growing desperate. Then seize your chance, run down to thewater's edge, swim to one of the boats, and try and escape."

  "Without you, father?"

  He caught my hand.

  "You could not escape with me, my boy," he said. "There, do as Icommand. I can give you no farther advice, only use your own judgmentas to where you will go."

  "But, father--"

  "Silence! Is Hannibal there?" he said, raising his voice.

  "Yes, massa."

  "Here, my man," continued my father, as the great black came to him."You will try and serve me, will you not?"

  "Massa want Han do somefin?"

  "Yes. There is great danger from the Indians. I want you to stay withand help my son; when the time comes, you will swim with him to a boat,and try and get away."

  "And carry massa down to the boat?"

  "No. Save my son. Now go with him at once." His words were soimperative that we both left him, and I went back toward where thefighting was going on, with Han following me like a great black shadow,till, all at once, he touched me on the arm.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Mass' George won't go 'way an' leave his fader?"

  "No," I replied, fiercely. "We must get him away too, Han, and Pomp."

  "Suah, suah," said the great fellow, quietly. "Could carry de capendown to de boat. Find Pomp and make him swim out for boat all ready."

  "Yes," I cried, eagerly, "we must save them both."

  The next minute we were close to where our men fought bravely, drivingback the Indians, who were close up now, avoiding the firing by crawlingright in, and then leaping up suddenly out of the darkness to seize thebarrels of the men's pieces, and strike at them with their tomahawks.

  But they were always beaten back, and twice over I was able to go andtell my father of the success on our side, Hannibal following closebehind me; but these checks were only temporary. The Indians literallyswarmed about the frail stronghold, and as fast as they were driven backin one place, they seemed to run along the sides of our defences andbegin a fresh attack somewhere else, while our men's firing, beingnecessarily very ineffective in the darkness, began to lose its effect;the savages, finding how few of them dropped from the discharges,beginning to look upon the guns with contempt.

  Their attacks grew so bold at last, that twice over, as I saw dimly oneof our poor fellows go down, I felt that all was over, and that the timehad come for me to go and try whether I could get my father away beforethe last terrible catastrophe, though how it was to be contrived, withthe place surrounded as it was by Indians, I could not tell.

  Can you think out what my position was, with all this firing anddesperate fighting going on, our men striking desperately at the Indiansto keep them out as they swarmed and leaped up at us; and all the timethere were the women, children, and wounded huddled up together in theinner shelter formed of barrels, boxes, and half-burned planks?

  It was horrible.

  Minute after minute crept by, and I began to blame myself for not going.Then a lull would make me determine to wait a little longer, justperhaps as some louder burst of firing made me believe that it was thefirst keg of powder gone, till a round of cheering told me that it wasnot, and I was able to go and report that our men were still holdingtheir own.

  I was returning from one of these visits to my father, picking my way inthe darkness over broken guns snapped off at the stock through beingused as clubs, and in and out among groaning men over whom the doctorwas busy, when all seemed to me to be unusually silent, and then I foundthat I was able to see a little more as I got right forward to whereColonel Preston was making his men close up together, and handing freshammunition. It was rapidly growing lighter, and I saw dimly enough at ashort distance, just behind where the block-house stood, themisty-looking figures of a large body of Indians.

  "Look, quick!" I panted.

  "Ah!" exclaimed the colonel. "Good! You can see now, my men. Holdyour fire till they are close in, and then let them have a volley."

  A low murmur ran along the line of men, and a feeling of elationthrilled me, but only for a deathly cold chill to run through everyvein. For this was evidently such a desperate season as Morgan or hisconfederates might choose.

  I could not stir for the moment. Then, as I mastered the horriblefeeling of inaction, I drew back and made my way through the confusionwithin our defences to where I could be opposite to the covered-in kegs,which lay not twenty yards away untouched.

  The light increased rapidly as it does down south, and I caught sight ofa dark figure crawling half-way between our rough works and thetarpaulin.

  One moment I thought it was a dead or wounded man; the next I recognisedMorgan by the back of his head, and a cry arose to my lips, but it wasdrowned by a deafening volley followed by a cheer.

  I glanced to my left, and saw the body of fully a couple of hundredIndians checked and wavering, when a second volley was fired and theyfled.

  The smoke hid the rest from my eyes, and when it rose, Morgan wasstanding close beside me watching the Indians, who had all crowdedthrough the palisade where a great piece was torn down, dragging withthem their dead and wounded.