CHAPTER TEN. · Part 7

"I thought the fences would all be down, and the place trampled, and that I should have to cut rails and stakes to save the place from desolation."

So said Morgan, and I agreed that as far as the garden was concerned we had met with a pleasant surprise.

"We'll have a good meal now," I said. "Let's sit down under the big cypress," and I pointed to the great tree which had proved so good a friend during the flood, and unslinging the bag which he had been carrying, Morgan led the way toward the resting-place.

"Why, Hannibal's gone now," I said, looking round wonderingly. "Oh, I know," I added, laughing; "he heard me say we would have something to eat, and he has gone to look for Pomp."

We were soon comfortably seated with the food spread before us, and as I cut some of the bread and salt pork we had brought, I said--

"It's of no use to go looking out for Indians, I suppose. We must chance their being near."

"If we go looking for them, Master George, we shall have to spend all our time over it. I'm beginning to hope we shan't see them any more."

Then Morgan's mouth became too full for him to talk with comfort, and I'm afraid mine was in a similar condition, for the long row, the fresh air, and the absence of breakfast before starting had had a great effect upon my appetite.

"I wish they'd come now," I said, as I half turned to Morgan, who was leaning forward with his head thrown back in the act of drinking from a bottle, when I felt as if turned to ice--frozen--motionless--gazing up at a great muscular brown arm raised to strike; and I don't know how to explain it, for the space of time must have been short as that taken up by the flashing of lightning; but all the same, the time seemed prolonged to me sufficiently for me to see that the owner of that arm was half concealed behind the tree; that the hand belonging to that arm held one of the keen little axes used by the Indians; that the blow was intended for my head; and I knew that before I could utter a word to alarm my companion, all would be over.

A good deal to think in that moment of time, but people do see and think a great deal instantaneously, just as they have quite long dreams in a few instants of time; and as I tell you, I thought all that as I saw the raised axe, and I could not stir, though it was in motion to strike me down.

A loud report set me free, the sound of a shot from the forest, and the Indian sprang forward between me and Morgan, turned half round, struck at the air with his tomahawk, then twisted back so that I had a full view of his hideous, distorted face, and then it was hidden from me, for the little axe escaped from his hand, and he fell clutching and tearing at the grass and leaves.

By this time Morgan and I had seized the fire-locks we had stood against the trunk of the tree, and stooped down to shelter ourselves with its trunk, as we presented the barrels at where we heard some one crashing through the bushes. But it was Han.

"Mass' George not hurt?"

"No, no," I said. "Did you fire?"

He nodded shortly, and gave me the piece to reload as he picked up the axe the Indian had let fall, and took the savage's knife from his belt to stick it in his own.

"If there's one Indian there's more," said Morgan, excitedly. "Quick, sir, ram the bullet well down. We must make for the boat. Where's that boy Pomp?"

"No," said Hannibal, shaking his head; "gone, gone. Han look for him; saw Indian and Mass' George."

"And you fired and saved my life," I cried, catching his hand, as I gave him back the reloaded piece.

He smiled at me, and shook his head sadly as I exclaimed--

"Now then to find Pomp, and get back to the boat."

I had hardly uttered the words when there was a yell, and four savages dashed out of the forest toward us, knife in one hand, axe in the other. They were not twenty yards away, and I raised my heavy piece to my shoulder as I saw Morgan let his barrel fall into one hand and fire.

A hideous yell followed, and one of the Indians leaped in the air. I saw no more for the smoke, but I drew trigger too, and staggered back with the violent concussion of the piece.

Then I stood aghast at what followed, for as the smoke lifted I saw an Indian spring on Morgan, and Hannibal drop the gun he held as the other two Indians rushed at him axe in hand, yelling horribly.

Then in what seemed to me was a nightmare dream, I saw Morgan seize the Indian's hand, and they closed in a desperate struggle, while on my other side Hannibal was battling with two, and I was helpless to assist either, and--well, I was a boy of sixteen or so, and how could I at close quarters like that try to shed blood?

True, in the excitement of the flight in the boat, I had loaded and fired again and again as the Indians kept sending their arrows at us; but all I could do now was to drop my own piece and run to pick up the one Hannibal had dropped.

But I did not fire it. I could only stand and gaze first at one, and then at the other, as I saw the great calm black now frenzied with rage and the thirst for battle. He was bleeding from blows given by the knife of one Indian and the axe of the other, but his wounds only seemed to have made him furious, and he stood there now looking like a giant, holding one of his enemies by the throat, the other by the wrist, in spite of their writhings and desperate efforts to strike him some deadly blow. He looked to me then like a giant in strength; but the Indians were strong too, and though he was rapidly subduing the one whose throat he grasped, the other was gradually wriggling himself free, when, seizing my opportunity, rendered desperate by the position, I raised the heavy piece I held as if it were a club, and brought the barrel down with all my might upon the Indian's head.

I stepped back sickened by what I had done, as his arm relaxed and he fell prone, while, freed now from one adversary whose axe would the next moment have brained him, Hannibal grasped his remaining enemy with both hands, raised him up, and dashed him heavily upon the earth.

It was time, for Morgan was down, the Indian upon him, his knife raised high to plunge into the poor fellow's throat, but held back by Morgan's hand, which was yielding fast.

I stood paralysed and watching, when, with a roar like a wild beast, Hannibal dashed at this last man, and with the axe he had at his waist struck him full in the temple, and he dropped down sidewise quivering in death.

I remember thinking it very horrible as I saw all this bloodshed, but I knew it would have been far more horrible if the savage wretches had killed us. Then every other thought was driven out of my head by the appearance of Hannibal, who was quite transformed. As a rule he was the quiet, gentle-looking black, always ready to obey the slightest command; now he seemed to tower up a ferocious-looking being, with wild glaring eyes looking about for something else to destroy, and had I not caught hold of his arm he would have used the axe he held on the fallen men.

"Under cover, my lad," said Morgan, who was panting heavily. "Don't leave that gun. Now Hannibal, quick!"

He led the way in among the trees, where we quickly loaded the discharged pieces, crouching down under bushes, while Hannibal knelt beside us keeping watch, his wild eyes glaring round in every direction for some fresh enemy to attack.

"Nice--narrow--escape that! Master George," said Morgan, in a low voice, as he gave the ramrod a thud between every two words. "Pretty object I should have looked if I'd had to go back to your father and say you were killed by the Indians. Oh dear! Oh dear! I did hope I'd done killing people to the end of my days, and now look yonder."

"It was forced upon you, Morgan," I whispered, as I finished charging one of the pieces.

"Upon me!" cried Morgan. "Oh, come now, Master George, play fair. Don't get putting on all down to my account. My word! Who'd have thought old Hannibal here could fight like that?"

The great black looked fiercely round, but smiled sadly as Morgan held out his hand and said--

"Thank you, old lad."

"Yes! Thank you, Hannibal, for saving my life," I whispered.

"Mass' George save Han's life," was the reply in deep tones. Then the smile passed from the great fellow's face, and a terrible expression came over it again as his eyes rolled round, and he said in a deep, low, muttering voice--

"Come--quick find Pomp."

"And I was just going to say, let's make a run now for the boat," said Morgan. "But we can't leave the boy, Master George."

"No," I said. "Here, take your gun, Han."

I passed the firelock to him, and followed his gaze as he glared round among the trees from behind whose trunks I expected to see the enemy peering, ready to take revenge for the death of their companions. But there was no one near as far as I could see, and we rose cautiously to get a better view round through the clustering boughs whose heavy foliage cut off the light, so that we were gazing down glorious vistas that ended far away in the deepest shade.

"Might hide an army there, and no one could see 'em," muttered Morgan.

"Find Pomp?" said Hannibal, looking at me inquiringly.

"Yes," I said; "try and find him. Go on."

The great fellow drew a deep breath, and led off at once with the firelock in his left hand, the axe in his right; and I knew that if we had a fresh encounter, the modern weapon would be useless in his hands, while the axe would be terrible.

To my great horror, the course he chose was out by where the desperate struggle had taken place, and my first instinct was to close my eyes and not look at the dead Indians; but I told myself I was a soldier's son, and that these men had fallen as we were fighting for our lives. But it was very terrible to see them lying there as they had fallen, two of them still grasping their weapons, and with a look of savage hatred in their faces.

Hannibal led on, Morgan followed, and I was last, and I was beginning to feel glad that we were leaving the dead behind, where they lay beneath the great cypress, when Hannibal turned round and raised his axe to point as it seemed to me in the direction of the forest beyond the garden, and to my horror it appeared as if the man had been seized with a fresh desire to shed blood, for his great lips were drawn away from his glistening teeth, his eyes opened widely showing broad rings of white round the dark irides, and throwing up the axe ready to strike, he dropped the gun and literally bounded at me.

With a faint cry of horror as I saw the awful-looking object leaping at me, the firelock dropping from his left hand, and the blood glistening on his great arms, I dropped sidewise just as a knife flashed by my cheek and over my left shoulder.

It was then that I realised the truth, and drew my breath hard, as I saw Hannibal's axe descend; there was a terrible crashing sound and a heavy fall, and as, sick and seeing dimly, I looked down to my left, the great figure of the black was bending over a grinning object in the bushes at the forest edge, his foot was pressing back one of our enemies, and he dragged the axe free.

"Is he dead now?" Morgan whispered, hoarsely, and his face looked ghastly as he caught me by the arm.

Hannibal uttered a low deep sound, and drew himself up to his full height. Then he bent down again, and I saw him tear a glittering knife out of a brown hand, which with its arm rose above the bushes and was clinging still to the haft.

"Morgan," I said, faintly, as the great black strode back toward where we had had the struggle first, "stop him. What is he going to do?"

"I want to stop him, lad," whispered the faithful fellow, in low, awe-stricken tones; "but I can't try; I daren't. It must be done."

"But that was another Indian," I whispered, as I saw Hannibal bend down, rise up, take a step or two, and bend down again, and then everything swam before my eyes. I could hear Morgan's voice though as he went on--

"It was horribly near, sir," he said. "It wasn't another Indian, but one of those shamming dead, and as soon as we'd got by he must have crawled after us, and old Han turned just in time, and went at him as he was striking at you with his knife. It's very horrid, my lad, but these savages don't understand fair fighting and giving quarter to the wounded. There, come away, and don't look angry at the black when he comes back. He has just saved your life again, and what he is doing now is to make sure you are not attacked again."

I stood speechless, resting on the piece I held in my hand till the great negro came back with the knife stuck in his waist-belt, to stoop and pick up the gun he had dropped; and then he pointed again with the axe toward the forest beyond the garden.

"Come," he said, quietly. "Find Pomp."

He looked at me once more with so grave and kindly an aspect that I tried to smother the horror I felt, and taking a step or two forward, I drew out a handkerchief and pointed to his bleeding arms, which were gashed by two blows of axe and knife.

He smiled and nodded half contemptuously as I tore the handkerchief in two, and he held out his arms one by one for me to bind them tightly.

"Now," he said, "find Pomp."

I held up my hand and we listened to a low, hoarse, gurgling noise, which seemed to come from a distance in the forest, and I shuddered as I fancied for a moment that it must be one of the Indians dying; but I knew that the sound came from a different direction.

We listened intently as we stooped under cover and kept a watchful gaze in every direction for danger. But the sound had ceased and for the moment we were safe, for no leaf was stirring, and the deep shadowy wood appeared to be untenanted. Hannibal shook his head, and was in the act of turning when the curious hoarse gurgling sound came again.

It was like nothing I had ever heard before, and what was more strange, it was impossible to make out whence it came, for it rose and fell, rose again, and then died out.

"What is it?" I said to Morgan. "An Indian cry?"

"No," he replied. "Hark! There it is again."

Yes; there it was again, but appeared to be from a fresh direction.

"Is it something down amongst the bushes--a frog or a young 'gator?"

"No; I don't think it can be that, sir. I've heard nearly every sound they make, and it isn't anything like that."

All was still again, and we moved on slowly farther into the forest, going cautiously in and out among the trees, our weapons ready, and a strict look-out kept for the enemy. For it seemed to me that the main body could not be far off, our encounter having been with a skirmishing party.

"There again," I whispered. "What is it, Hannibal?"

He was kneeling down now listening; and as he looked up at me, I could see that he was puzzled, for he shook his head.

"Han done know," he said.

Again the sound came--a hoarse, gurgling, faint noise, as from a great distance, but somehow we were as far off from understanding what it meant as ever.

"Never mind," said Morgan. "It isn't what we are looking for. Go on, Han; we must find that boy, and escape for our lives."

The great black nodded and started off at once, Morgan and I going to right and left of him, and we searched through the great trees, working away round the opening cleared from the forest for our house, but though the sound continued, we could find no trace of the cause nor yet of the poor boy, who had dropped completely out of sight.

My heart sank as I felt sure that the Indians must have surprised him, and moment by moment, as we started again into the forest, making now toward the rattlesnake clearing and the path leading to the landing-place, I expected to come upon him lying dead where he had been struck down.

But we examined the place again and again in every direction without success, and we were neither of us sufficiently skilled to attempt in the gloom beneath the trees to find him by his tracks.

The sound had nearly ceased now, only occurring faintly at intervals, and still it was as confusing as ever, for we could not make out whence it came.

At last we stopped at the edge of the rattlesnake clearing, near where the path struck out leading to the water-side.

"What are we to do, Master George?" said Morgan. "I want to find that boy, and at any moment we may be attacked by enemies, and it seems to be our duty to get down to the boat, row back as fast as we can, and give warning that the Indians are still near at hand."

"Yes, go," said Hannibal, who had been listening intently to Morgan's words. "Boat. Injum. Han 'top find um boy."

Morgan looked at me, but I shook my head.

"No," I said; "we will not go--we cannot, and leave him here. Will you come, Hannibal?"

"To find um boy," he said, frowning.

"And we'll stop too, Morgan," I said. "We may find him at any moment, and it is impossible to go and leave the poor boy like this."

Hannibal did not speak, but I saw his eyes fixed on me as Morgan spoke.

"I don't want to go and leave him, Master George," he said, "because it's like leaving a comrade, and old soldiers don't do that. But soldiers has their duty to do, and duty says--Go and let them know at the settlement. Besides, my duty to your father seems to say, Get you out of this as quick as you can."

"Yes, I know that, Morgan," I said.

"And the Indians may be on us at any moment."

"Yes, but we can't leave him," I said; "and--Ah, there's that noise again. I'm sure it came from right in there."

I pointed back toward the other side of the clearing, toward which spot Hannibal immediately rushed, and we followed as quickly as we could, for something seemed to tell us that a discovery was at hand.

It was close by the part of the forest through which Morgan and I had made our way cautiously and silently when we were going to kill the rattlesnake; and as we reached the edge, and passed in amongst the densely growing trees, all was silent, dark, and mysterious-looking; but there was nothing to be seen but tree-trunks, and we crept up to where the great black stood bending down and listening.

All was silent. Then there was a faint rap as a squirrel dropped a fir-cone from high up somewhere invisible to us. As far as we could see there were the gloomy aisles of great growing pillars, and we knew that we had passed through this portion of the forest again and again, though it was quite possible that we might have missed parts.

"Well, do you hear it?" I said, in a whisper.

Hannibal shook his head despondently, and then his face lit up as we heard from our right, and quite close at hand, the same faint, gurgling sound, now evidently a cry.

The black rushed on in and out among the trees, a gleam of sunshine catching his black skin once, just as we were passing the gloomiest part; and then, as I was close behind him, he disappeared beyond a group of great pillar-like pine-trees, and when I reached them I came upon him suddenly in a hollow, deep with fir-needles--a natural hole formed by the fall of a monstrous tree, whose root still lay as it had been wrenched out when the tree fell, but the trunk itself had gradually mouldered into dust.

And there was Hannibal busily cutting the hide thongs which bound Pomp, who was lying helpless at the bottom of the hole, with a blanket and a rough skin garment close by him, and beside these five bows and their arrows.

It was evidently the lurking-place of the Indian scouting party, who had suddenly pounced upon the boy, gagged and bound him, for his jaws were forced wide apart, a piece of ragged blanket was thrust into his mouth, and this was kept in by another hide thong tied round and round his face and neck, passing between his jaws as if he were bridled with a leather bit, while his arms and wrists and legs were so securely tied that the poor fellow was perfectly helpless.

"Can't say he's black in the face, in the way we mean," said Morgan, sympathetically, "because, poor lad, it is his nature to be so, look you, but he's half dead."

I was already down on my knees chafing the wrists set at liberty, after the hide had been cut away from the boy's cheeks and the gag taken out, but he made no sign whatever, and we were still rubbing him, and trying to restore the circulation, when Morgan said quickly--

"We can do that in the boat. Up with him, Han, I'll carry your gun. There must be more Indians near. These were on the advance, I'll lay, and I wouldn't say we don't have a fresh attack to-night."

Without a word Hannibal handed the gun, took Pomp by the arms, gently swung him on his back, and tore off a strip of blanket with which he tightly bound the boy's wrists together upon his own chest, so that it left the black's hands at liberty should he want to use them.

"Go on now," he said; and he held out his hand for his gun.

It was only a short distance from where we were to the boat, but it was really to be the most anxious part of all, and as we approached rattlesnake clearing, I involuntarily checked the others to look out cautiously before we left the dark pine-shade.

But all was still, the beautiful young growth glistening in the hot sunshine; and striking the path on the other side, gazing watchfully as we could, ready for attack, and fully expecting to see the Indians in possession of the boat, we finally reached the landing-place, where Pomp was laid in the stern, the weapons were placed ready, and faint and dripping with perspiration, I sank down beside Pomp as the rope was cast off.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

My eyes were for ever running from tree to bush, and plunged into the windings of the path, as Hannibal and Morgan seized the oars, sat down, and, after the head had been pushed off into the current, began to pull a heavy stroke that sent the boat rapidly along and out into the middle of the stream. For after my old experiences of starting from that landing-place, in addition to that which I had gone through that day, the nervous tension was so great that my imagination ran riot at first, and I saw dark faces peering out from among the canes, bronzed arms holding bows, while others drew arrows to the heads, and the loud yells of the Indians seemed to ring through my dizzy brain. But as, after we had reached the farther side of the stream, the boat surged on through the water with no sound really heard but the splash of the oars, I began to grow more calm, the more so that we passed clump after clump, and patch after patch of undergrowth, from which arrows came whizzing last time, to strike into the sides of the boat, or fix themselves in the box with a hollow sounding rap.

As soon as I could collect myself a little, I plunged my hands over the side and bathed my face, and drank. Then hurriedly turning to poor Pomp, I placed his head more easily, Hannibal's great dark eyes watching me the while, and then took the tin baler, filled it with the cold, clear water, and began to bathe the boy's temples, pausing again and again to trickle water between his closely-set teeth.

But for a long time he gave no sign of recovery, but lay back breathing faintly, and with his eyes tightly closed.

"Coming to, Master George?" said Morgan.

"No," I had to reply again and again. And each time at my response I heard the boy's father utter a sigh.

But Hannibal did not cease to row a steady stroke, though I saw his forehead wrinkle up, and there was a wild look of misery in his eyes.

We had passed round the wooded point in safety, and soon after were well out of our stream and in the big river, when, seeing that we were beyond the reach of arrows, the rowing was slackened a little, just as, to the great delight of all, Pomp showed signs of recovery.

I was bending over him after dipping the tin full of water once more, and began to trickle a little water on his forehead, when _flip_, the tin went flying, the water sparkling in the sun, and a quantity of it sprinkling Hannibal where he sat, while it was all so sudden that I burst out laughing, for Pomp's familiar voice rang out sharply and angrily--

"Don't do dat."

Then memory must have come back like a flash, for the boy's hands seized me as I bent over and touched him, his eyes opened and glared at me, he showed his teeth viciously, and then let his hands drop, and he sank back.

"Mass' George!" he said, feebly. "Ah, Pomp know all de time. Mass' George play trick. Pash water, and--" Then with a sudden fierce change of manner--"Run, Mass' George--run--quick--what gone long dem Injum?"

He looked round wildly.

"They are gone, Pomp," I said; and I shivered a little as I spoke. "We're quite safe now. Drink a little water."

I raised his head, and held the refilled water-can to his lips, when he drank with avidity.

"Are you better?"

"Eh? Better, Mass' George? Injum cotch Pomp, and 'tuff mouf full. Couldn't holler. Tie um all up tightum. No move, no breve, no do nuffum."

"Yes; don't talk now. We found you. No; lie still. What do you want?"

"Go kill all de Injum."

"Sit still," I said, with another little shiver, as I recalled the scene of the struggle.

"No; Pomp won't sit 'till."

He rose to a sitting position and began rubbing his wrists, staring at his father the while, as the latter rowed steadily on with his arms bandaged and showing stains.

"What matter wif yo' arm?"

Hannibal said something to the boy in his own tongue, and Pomp leaned forward, still rubbing his numbed wrists softly, and evidently listening intently till his father had done, when he clapped his hands together and uttered a harsh laugh.

"Ah," he cried; "dat a way. Dey no come try kill Mass' George 'gain."

Then reverting to his own injuries, he felt all his teeth gently with thumb and finger, as if to try whether they were loose.

"'Tick 'tuff, great big dirty bit blank in Pomp mouf," he said, angrily. "No couldn't breve."

He gave himself another rub or two, worked his head about, rubbed behind his back, and opened and shut his jaws softly. Then giving himself a final shake, he exclaimed--

"Pomp quite well 'gain."

"Want something to eat?" I said, smiling.

"Yes, Mass' George. Pomp dreffle hungly now."

"Oh well, we'll soon settle that," I said; and I looked round for the food, much of which was then lying under the big cypress, close to the heap of ashes I had once called home.

"I'm afraid there is nothing left, Pomp," I said, apologetically.

"Eh?"

"I'm afraid there is nothing to give you," I said.

"What? No go eat all dat and hab not bit for poor Pomp! Oh!"

He swung himself round, threw himself down on his face, and groaned.

Hannibal said a few words in a deep stern voice, and the boy moaned out--

"But poor Pomp so dreffle hungly."

There was something so childishly absurd in his anger that I could not help laughing, the effect being that in his excitable state he turned upon me with a fierce gesture that reminded me of the day he was landed from the slaver.

But at that moment Hannibal's deep firm voice rose in so stern a tone that the boy shrank down again in the boat.

Hannibal spoke again as he continued rowing, and as I listened to the curious sweet-sounding barbarous tongue, I felt as if I would have given anything to have been able to understand what was said.

But though I did not comprehend the words, I did their sense, for Pomp came crawling up closer to me like a beaten dog, and held up one hand deprecatingly.

"Pomp dreffle sorry," he said. "Don't Mass' George flog lil nigger for get in pashum. Pomp so dreffle hungly."

"Oh, I'm not cross," I said, good-temperedly.

"And Mass' George not flog poor lil nigger?"

"I will if you ever say so again," I cried.

"Oh!"

"When were you ever flogged? Did I ever flog you?"

"No, Mass' George."

"Then why did you say that?"

"Mass' George often look going flog lil nigger."

"Then don't say it again, and you shall soon have something to eat. We are close to the wharf."

For there in full view was the flag flying on its pine-tree staff, and the boats lay off anchored in the river. But the place looked singularly deserted, and it seemed very strange for there to be no one visible idling about, boating, or at work in the plantations; not a single person being in sight till we got some distance farther on, and the block-house and palisade seemed to come out from behind the trees, when the sentries could be plainly seen, and the group by the open gates, while the interior of the enclosure looked like a busy camp, so crowded was it with people and their household goods.

We left the two blacks to moor the boat, after telling Pomp to make haste up and have some dinner, and Morgan and I hurried up to my father's quarters. He was not there, and we learned that he was with the General.

Under the circumstances we did not hesitate to go to the latter's tent, where we found that a little council was being held, and that Colonel Preston and the principal part of the other gentlemen of the expedition were there.

"Well, sir," I heard Colonel Preston say, "my opinion is that further inaction would be cowardly."

"I am sorry to go against my friend, Colonel Preston," said my father, his voice coming clearly to me from under the looped-up sail which made the tent, "but I feel convinced that in spite of the lesson they have received, the Indians will attack again, and it would be extremely unwise to leave our strong quarters and go to our homes until we are satisfied that we can be safe."

"I must say, gentlemen," said the General, gravely, "that in spite of the adverse opinions I have heard--some of which sounded to me rather rash--I agree with Captain Bruton."

There was a loud murmur here.

"We have our women and children to think of."

"Of course, sir," said Colonel Preston; "and I think of mine as seriously as any man here. But our close confinement is getting painful for them all. We shall be having another enemy in our midst--fever--if we do not mind. Now with all respect for Captain Bruton, I must say he is carrying caution too far. At the slightest alarm we can again take refuge in the fort."

There was a chorus of approval here.

"Our scouts have been out in every direction, and I am convinced that there has not been for many days past an Indian within a hundred miles."

"You are wrong, sir," I said excitedly, as I stepped forward with Morgan close behind me; and at the sight of us both, and what I had not thought of till then, our blood-stained garments, there was a loud buzz of excitement.

"What? Speak out. Are you wounded, boy?" cried my father, excitedly.

"No, father; I have escaped."

"But the Indians; you have seen them?"

"Yes," I said; and in the midst of a breathless silence, Morgan and I told of our terrible adventures that day.

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. I was longing to get back to my comfortable home. Come along. I suppose we 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, but I was influenced by the general opinion. Ah!" he continued, as he saw Hannibal standing by our rough tent, "why, my good fellow, you are wounded."

He laid his hand upon the black's arm, and said something in a low voice, 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 be led to the temporary hospital; and I followed, to find our Sarah sitting up and ready to welcome me with a few sharp snappish words, after her fashion. I have often laughed since at the way in which she showed her affection 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 he been 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. "It was bad enough to come to this terrible place without you two boys going and running into all kinds of risks, and getting yourselves nearly killed. 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 that impudent 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 how you were. How is your wound?"

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

"Curious sort of pleasure-trip, Sarah," I said. "I say, you should see how 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 into danger 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 up again."

"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 has been burned too."

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

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

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

"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 are hungry, 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 to eat."

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

"They did," I said.

"That's a comfort," said Sarah. "I'm sorry for the poor savages, but it'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 another attack to-night."

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

I did what I could to cheer her up, and went out to find Hannibal just leaving the doctor, and ready to laugh at the wounds upon his arms as being too trifling to be worthy of notice. In fact the pains he suffered did not prevent him from partaking of a hearty meal, at which Pomp stood looking on regretfully. I happened to catch his eye just as I was eating rather voraciously, the excitement and exertion having given 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 be only 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 say anything."

"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 which I knew from old experience he delighted so much, and then carved off a couple of good, pink-striped pieces of cold salt pork. But he drew away with 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, for he accompanied it with a sigh of regret, and shook his head as he turned away, unable to bear longer the sight of the good food of which he was unable to partake.

I had hardly finished my meal, and begun to feel a little rested and refreshed, before I was attracted out into the enclosure where the ladies and children, whom I had seen only the day before looking cheerful and merry, were wearing a wild, scared look as they were being hurried into the block-house, while the most vigorous preparations were carried on.

"They don't mean to be taken by surprise, Morgan," I said, as I ran against 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 that they had found signs of Indians having been about, and that they had been 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 me about finding the marks close beside the big tree where we had our fight."

"Marks?" I said.

"Yes; you know. Well, they are keeping a good look-out, spread all round, and keeping touch with each other. So you may be sure that the enemy 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, though it was a glorious sunset, for the clouds that gathered in the west were to me like the smoke of burning houses touched with fire, and the deep rich red glow like blood. And as I watched the changes, it seemed that the softened reflections had turned into one fierce fiery glow that told of 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 nothing at last but the cold grey ashes to tell of where the houses had been.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

I quite started as a hand was laid upon my shoulder.

"Thinking, George?" said my father. I told him I had been watching the sunset. Shame kept me from saying more.

"Ah, yes," he said, sadly. "It was very glorious. What a pity that the beautiful land over which such a sun shines should be spoiled by bloodshed!"

"Do you think the Indians will come to-night?" I said, a little huskily.

He was silent for a few moments, and stood gazing in my face.

"Afraid?" he said, with a smile.

"Yes, father," I said, frankly. "It makes me feel afraid. But when all the fighting and excitement is going on I don't feel to mind it half so much."

"That is human nature, my boy," he said, smiling. "No doubt there are men who never know what fear is, but they must be very rare. I have known very few."

"But you, father?" I said, excitedly. "You never knew what it was to be afraid?"

He laughed as he pressed my shoulder with his hand.

"Always, my boy, when I am going to encounter danger, and from the General downward, I think I may say we all feel fear. It is no disgrace to a brave man to shrink from that which he has to encounter. Why, my experience teaches me that those men who think and feel in this way do the bravest deeds."

"Then I needn't be ashamed of feeling a little alarm--I mean being a bit of a coward now, father?"

"No," he said, with a peculiar smile. "But as it is highly probable that we shall be attacked to-night, it would be as well to be careful. The women and children are all in the block-house now; the men will be strongly posted at the gates and palisade, while the reserves will be in front of the block-house, in our rough outer works, ready to go to any menaced point or to cover their comrades if they have to retreat, and we are compelled to take to the block-house as a last resource.--There: I must go. You are tired, boy. You have had a long and perilous day. I'll excuse you from everything to-night, and you had better get to the block-house and have a good night's rest."

"Oh, don't say that, father," I cried, dolefully. "Go and be shut up there with the women and children!"

"What do you wish to do, then?" he said, still smiling in a peculiar way.

"Be about here, and go round to the different sentries."

"With arrows flying, perhaps."

"But it will be dark, and they are not likely to hit," I said. "Besides, I might be useful fetching ammunition and helping to load."

"You can stay about," he said, clapping both hands on my shoulders, and laughing. "I don't think you need be ashamed of your cowardice, my boy."

He walked away, leaving me feeling puzzled, for I hardly knew what he meant, whether he was joking me or laughing at me for what I said. But it was all put out of my head directly by a little bustle at the gate, where the men who had been scouting were beginning to return, so as to be well in shelter before it grew dark; and as I followed them up, the report they made to the officers soon reached my ears.

It was very brief: they had seen no Indians, but had followed the track of those who had fetched away the bodies of their dead, and traced them to a portion of the forest some six miles away, when, not feeling it wise to follow farther, they had come straight across country home.

There was neither moon nor star that night, as, with every light carefully extinguished in camp, patient watch was kept, and every eye fixed from three of the sides upon the edge of the forest beyond the plantations. So still was everything that, save when a faint whisper rose when an officer went round, the place might have been unoccupied.

But the hours glided by with nothing to occasion the slightest alarm, as we all listened to the faint sounds which came from distant forest and swamp. So still was it that even the splash of some great fish in the river reached our ears as we leaned over the great fence by the gateway.

I had been round the enclosure with my father twice in the course of the evening, for though tired I was too much excited to sleep. Then I had been and had a chat with our Sarah, in the hospital-room, and after that gone to the little side shelter by our tent, where Hannibal and Pomp were both sleeping as peaceably as if there were no danger in the air.

As I stood looking down at them, it was with something like a feeling of envy, for I was terribly heavy, and would gladly have lain down to sleep, but it was impossible then; and as I left them and crossed the great enclosure, I heard a low whispered conversation going on just in front, and as I stopped short a hand caught mine, and said sternly--

"Who is this? Oh, it's you, young Bruton. No alarm, is there?"

It was Colonel Preston who spoke, and after telling him that all seemed quiet I passed on, and in an uneasy way went from sentry to sentry to say a word or two to each, as I inquired whether my father had been by.

He had not, so I went on till I came to the corner of the enclosure farthest from the forest, where I could dimly see the man on duty straining himself over the great fence; and so occupied was he in gazing into the distance that he did not notice my presence till I spoke. "You, Master George?"

"You, Morgan?"

"Why, I thought you'd ha' been asleep."

"No; I could not go," I said. "But why were you looking out there?"

"I don't know, my lad," he whispered. "This sort of work puts one all on the screw and fidget. I do nothing else but fancy all sorts of things, and keep finding out I'm wrong."

"But the Indians are not likely to come this way," I said. "It is too far from the forest."

"Then the more likely, my lad. But speak lower. Now look straight out there, and try if you can see anything."

I looked out in the gloom in the direction indicated, and said softly--

"Yes, I am looking."

"Well, what can you see?"

"A house."

"Yes, that's right; just dimly showing against the sky."

"Well, what of it? It is Colonel Preston's."

"I didn't know for certain, but I thought it was his. Well, look again; can you see anything about it?"

I looked, making a telescope of my hands, and then laughed to myself.

"As I watched it, Master George, it seemed to me as if there was some one moving about it. I'm sure I saw men against the sky."

"Why, Morgan," I said, "what you see is those tall, thin cypress trees standing up at the ends. They do look something like people, but they would be folks twenty feet high."

"Nonsense, sir! Look again."

I did look again, and, very dimly-seen against the sky, I fancied I could see something moving, and I had no doubt now about its being the colonel's house, for it was the only one standing on raised ground.

"Well," whispered Morgan, "what do you make of it now?"

"Nothing. One's eyes get dizzy and misty with looking so long. I believe it is only fancy."

Morgan gazed long and eagerly for quite a minute before he said in a low, excited whisper--

"Then fancy's precious busy to-night, Master George. I got to be wonderful powerful in the sight during the wars, being out on vidette duty. I say there's something wrong there."

I looked again, but I could not distinguish anything, and I said so.

"Look here, sir," whispered Morgan, "I don't like to give an alarm for nothing, but I can't rest over this. Will you ask the captain to come?"

"Tell you what," I said; "I'll fetch Pomp first. He has eyes like a cat."

"The very thing, sir. Fetch him," whispered Morgan, and I hurried back to our quarters, roused up Pomp, who was ill-tempered at being disturbed, and taking him by the wrist I led him to Morgan's post, telling him in whispers the while what I wanted of him.

"But it all dark," he said, peevishly. "How Pomp go to see in um dark? Wait till a-morrow morning."

"Come, Pomp," I said; "don't be foolish. You have such good eyes, and we want you to see."

"No; not good eyes," he said. "All seepy now out ob 'em."

"Hush! Don't talk," I said, gently.

"How Pomp see which way um go if don't talk lil bit? I tink you berry cross on poor lil nigger, Mass' George."

"Hist! Here we are."

"Hah! Now we shall see," said Morgan, eagerly. "Come, Pomp, look over yonder--straight away beneath that tall tree that goes to a point. Now then, what can you see?"

"House," replied the boy, shortly.

"Well, what else?"

"Lot man coming and going way 'gain."

"There!" said Morgan, triumphantly. "Now, Master George, was I right?"

"Who are they, Pomp?" I whispered. "Look, quick!"

"Pomp can't look, so 'leepy."

"But you must."

"Pomp go back--go 'leep."

"No, on, please look again. Oh, Pomp!"

"Mass' George want Pomp look?"

"Yes, yes."

"Mass' George won't call Pomp 'tupid lil nigger 'gain?"

"I'll promise anything, only pray look."

The boy rested his chin on the fence, and gazed again, while I could hear my heart going _thump_, _thump_ with excitement.

"Lot men. All black dark."

"Black?" I said, eagerly. "You don't mean the slaves?"

"Pomp nebber say dey nigger. Pomp say all black."

"Don't talk so loudly," whispered Morgan, eagerly.

"Pomp no want talk loud. Pomp go back 'leep."

"No, no, pray look again and tell me, Pomp," I whispered.

"Mass' Morgan talk sabbage. Want to flog Pomp."

"No, no, he does not, and I want you to look and tell me."

"Pomp look and tell Mass' George, but now too 'leepy, an' eye all 'tick togedder much, tell Mass' Morgan."

"Then tell me," I whispered.

He looked again, then seemed suddenly to grow interested, and as excited as we were, as he caught my arm.

"Dem Injum!"

"There, Master George. Quick! Fetch the captain."

"No, no, fire and give the alarm," I said.

"No. Better not. It will alarm them too. Go and fetch the captain."

I hurried away, closely followed by Pomp, and luckily found my father on his way to go the rounds in company with Colonel Preston.

I told them what we had seen, and they hurried with us to the spot where Morgan was on duty.

"It can only mean one thing," said the colonel, excitedly. "They would not trouble much about plunder."

"What do you mean then?" said my father; "a point from which to attack?"

"No," said the colonel, hoarsely. "That!"

As he said the words, there was a faint gleam of light in the direction of the house, a flash, then quite a burst of ruddy flame; and by the time we reached Morgan, his face was lit up by the glow as the wooden structure blazed away rapidly, and the flames like great golden tongues licked at porch and veranda; while from one window, which showed quite plainly, so great a volume rushed out that it showed where the house had been fired.

There was no need to sound an alarm, the great golden fire-flag which floated in the darkness of the night brought every man out to gaze; and as the flames mounted higher, illuminating the settlement far and near, the other houses stood forth plainly, the trees seemed turned to gold, and the wavy corn and cane came into sight and died out again in a way wonderful to behold.

"Preston! Bruton!" said a firm voice, "round to the men. Every one on his guard. Reserves in the centre ready. This is a ruse to take our attention prior to an attack."

I looked up admiringly at the stern old man, who gave his orders so promptly, and then saw my father and the colonel hurry off, while the General shaded his eyes, and looked keenly over the place.

"No," he said, as if to himself, as he drew back. "Ah, you boys! Your eyes are young and sharp. Try if you can see the Indians crossing along by the edges of either of the plantations, or coming this way."

"No, sir," I said, quickly. "I have been trying to see them."

"Injum gone round dah," said Pomp, pointing.

"Ah!" cried the general; "you saw them?"

"Yes; gone dat big house."

"Mine," said the General, with a quick catching of the breath. "Yes; there is no doubt about that."

For as we were speaking, a tiny tongue of fire began to creep up one of the pine-tree supports of the porch, which, quite invisible before, now stood out plainly, and in a very few minutes was blazing furiously, while a light from the back showed that it had been fired there as well.

"Watch for the men who are doing this, my boy," said the General. "Here, sentry, can you use that piece of yours?"

"Middlin', sir, middlin'," replied Morgan.

"Then wait till you see one of the wretches, and try and bring him down. No," he said, directly after, "it would be useless. It would have no good effect."

The Indians who had fired the General's house must have stolen off by the back, for Pomp did not see them go; and we were not long in learning that they were busy still, for at intervals of only a few minutes, six more of the best of the settlers' houses were blazing furiously, lighting up the whole of the clearings, while the sparks ascended in great clouds, and floated gently away as if a fall of snow had been suddenly turned into gold.

Overhead a cloud of wreathing smoke rolled over and over, turned ruddy by the burning homes, as if a second fire were in the heavens, and reflecting the light so that the block-house and the encumbered enclosure, with its piles of boxes and rough furniture, with here and there a tent, rapidly grew lighter and lighter, but with shadows of intense blackness marked out where the light did not fall.

So clearly did the defenders' faces show now, as they sheltered behind the defences, that had there been high ground near that the enemy could have held, our position would have been bad, so excellent a mark should we have made for the Indian arrows. But, fortunately for us, save where Colonel Preston's house stood, the land round the fort was absolutely flat, and the Indians could not very well get into position for attack without exposing themselves to a rain of bullets.

Our officers were soon fairly well satisfied that if an attack were coming it would be from the dark side, and there our forces were concentrated to stand waiting, while scarcely any one but the sentries stood at the fence nearest the house and watched the flames.

Had the houses been together, the whole place would have been rapidly burned down; but, fortunately for us, each little house stood in the middle of its own plot, fifty, a hundred, and sometimes several hundred yards apart, so that they burned as so many separate fires, others springing up in various directions till twelve were blazing, and no effort could be made to check the flames.

"It would only be sending men to their death," I heard my father say as I stood near, hot with impotent rage.

"Yes. It is impossible to do anything," replied the General. "If we were free to act, our whole force could not save the houses; and I cannot set the men to work with their buckets in the blazing light, to be shot down by the arrows of the Indians hidden somewhere in the darkness."

As the twelfth house blazed up, with the Indians still cunningly keeping out of sight and crawling among the trees or crops, we all stood watching the houses left, wondering which would be the next to burst out into flame; but now we waited in vain, for the destruction had ceased as far as fresh additions were concerned. But the doomed dwellings crackled and flashed, and every time a beam or a ceiling fell in, the heavens were brilliant with the great bursts of sparks, which eddied and rose higher and higher, to join the great cloud floating quietly toward the now golden river.

Still there was no sign of Indians; and at last my father walked round to the other side to join the most keen-sighted of our men in the look-out for the enemy, who was momentarily expected to be detected creeping up.

From where I now stood I could hear the buzz of voices in the block-house, where the whole of the occupants were watching the destruction--in twelve of the cases this being the sweeping away of a treasured and peaceful home.

By degrees the exclamations and words of sorrow--more than once mingled with sobs--grew fainter, and there was a terrible silence, through which came the sharp hissing and crackling of the burning wood, with again and again a dull thud as some beam went down. At such times the flames seemed to glow with twofold brilliancy, and the sparks were doubled in size, while after a few minutes the fire, that had been temporarily damped, blazed up higher than ever.

"If we only had the orders to shoot," I heard one man say to another, "I wouldn't care then."

"But there's nothing to shoot at," was the reply. "I say, though, I've been thinking."

"What?"

"Suppose that they could manage to set fire to the block-house here."

"Don't talk about it, man. What? With those women and children there! No; we must shelter them from that, even if we die for it."

I was standing with my father when Colonel Preston's house had been reduced to a glowing heap of embers, and he came up to my father to say in a light, cheerful way--

"Ah, I've been looking for you, Bruton. I wanted to tell you that I thoroughly understand now what your feelings must have been like the other night."

"Don't talk about it," said my father.

"Oh, I don't know," said the colonel. "It's painful, but one knows the worst."

"No," said my father, sadly; "unfortunately we do not know the worst."

"What do you mean? We can soon set to work and rebuild. The ground is clear. We cannot be so badly off as when we first landed."

"I was thinking," said my father, in a low voice, "that the enemy has achieved his work for the night, but to-morrow they will continue this horrible destruction, and the next night and the next night, till the palisade and the block-house only remain. Then the worst will come."

"They will try and fire that?" said the colonel, in a whisper.

"Yes. We have a deadly foe to combat, and one full of cunning."

"But we must never let him and his fire-fiends approach the place,--we must make an outer palisade."

"Of brave men?" said my father. "Yes; I had thought of that; but the danger cannot be stopped that way. They will fire the place without coming close."

"How?" cried the colonel.

"With winged messengers," said my father; and I felt what he was going to say before he spoke.

"Fiery arrows? I see what you mean. Pray heaven they may not think of such a hideous plan. But if they do, Bruton, we are Englishmen, and know how to die."

"Yes," said my father, sadly. "If the worst comes to the worst, we know how to die. Well, there will be no attack to-night," he continued; and he turned round and seemed to realise the fact that I was there, having forgotten my presence in the earnestness of his conversation with the colonel.

"Ah, George," he said, "I did not think that you were there to hear what I said. Did you catch it?"

"Yes, father," I said in a hoarse voice.

"What did I say?"

"That we should know how to die."

There was silence then, and the ruddy glow in the smoke-clouds began to die away, leaving everything dark, and cold, and depressing; so that the cheerful words of the various officers now, as they talked encouragingly to the men, appeared to have lost their power.

CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

Morning at last, after the horrors of that eventful night. Every one looked jaded and despondent; but as the sun rose, and the women and children were allowed to leave the confinement of the prison-like block-house to return to their larger tents and shelters, a good deal of the misery and discomfort was forgotten.

For as soon as it was day a couple of scouting parties issued from the gate and advanced cautiously through the plantations, tracing the course of the Indians easily enough, and following it up to the forest.

The advance was made with the greatest precaution, the men stealing from garden to plantation, and from fence to fence, expecting to receive arrows at any moment, and with their fire-locks ready to reply to the first inimical shot.

But no arrow sped toward them as they scouted on past the ruined houses; and the men's countenances grew sadder as they passed the smouldering heaps of ashes, and grasped their pieces more firmly, longing for an opportunity to punish the wretches who were destroying our homes.

My father took command of one of these scouting parties, and after a little persuasion he gave me his consent that we two boys should accompany it. He refused at first, but on my pointing out how keen Pomp's sight and sense of hearing were, he reluctantly said yes, and we went slowly on.

We stopped at each burned home we passed, to see how complete the destruction was; and, though I said nothing to my father, I could not help comparing the piles of newly-charred wood, and ashes to what I had seen at our own clearing.

It was exciting work as we went on, with our eyes fixed upon every spot likely to afford shelter to an Indian. The men spread out, and worked round clump of trees or patch of cane. But no Indian was seen, and at last we approached the forest.

Here Pomp was invaluable. He seemed to have no sense of fear, in spite of the experiences he had gone through; and again and again he had to be checked and kept from rushing among the trees, where the enemies might have been lying waiting in force.

He was not long in pointing out the place where the Indians had left the shelter of the forest, and soon after he found out another spot where it was quite as plain that they had returned--evidently working in a regularly organised way; and at first sight, as we gazed down at the footprints, one might have thought that only one man had passed, but my father explained to me how one seemed to have stepped in another's track, which had grown deeper and broader, till it was plainly marked wherever the soil was soft.

As soon as Pomp had pointed this out, he was for diving in among the densely-clustered trees, which began directly cultivation ended, just beyond where their fellows had been levelled and dragged away, leaving the stumps in many cases standing out of the ground with the crops between. But my father sternly called him back, and, satisfied that the enemy was not within touch, as proved by the fact that no arrow had sped towards us, the word was passed along the widespread line from our centre to the extreme ends, and we retreated, leaving three videttes under shelter in commanding positions, where they could at once see if any Indian scouts left the edge of the forest, and so give the alarm.

As we marched back toward the fort through the plantations, which were already displaying the effects of neglect, I asked my father if he did not think it possible that the Indians might be watching us all the time.

"They were watching Morgan and me that day when we killed the rattlesnake," I said.

"It is quite possible," he replied, turning to me directly; "but we could do no more. My orders were to search the ground, and make sure that no Indians were lurking in the plantations. I have done that. To have attempted to enter the forest with the few men under my orders would have been to invite destruction without doing any good."

"Yes, I see, father," I replied.

"They may have been lying in hiding only a short distance in, but I scarcely think so. The temptation to destroy from their lurking-places, whence they could shoot at us unseen, would have been too great."

By this time we had reached the gate, and we filed in for my father to go and make his report of what he had done to our commanding officer, while I went with Pomp to where Hannibal was playing the part of cook, and waiting our return.

"What's the matter?" I said to my companion, who was looking disturbed and sulky.

"Why come back?" he said. "Why not go shoot all um Injum, and--"

Pomp stopped short and gave a loud sniff.

He had smelt food, and nothing else had the smallest interest for him now till his wants had been supplied.

A busy day was spent in perfecting our means of defence against the enemy we dreaded now the most. Blankets were laid ready by twos, and men were drilled in the use to which they were to be put if the block-house was fired. For they were to be rapidly spread here and there and deluged with water, scouting parties being sent out to each of the uninjured homes in turn to collect any tubs or barrels that had been overlooked before.

The men worked well, and a cheer was sent up whenever some barrel was rolled in from one of the farther dwellings and carried up to the block-house roof, and filled ready. But at last there was nothing more to be done in this direction, and we rested from our labours.

So great had been the stress of the previous night, that the men were ordered to lie down to sleep in turns, so as to be prepared for a fresh alarm; but it was a long time before I could close my eyes as I lay under the canvas.

I was weary, of course, but too weary, and though I closed my eyes tightly, and said I would go to sleep, there was always something to battle against it. At one time, just as I fancied I was dozing off, there was the sound of footsteps and a burst of laughter from some of the children, who raced about in the hot sunshine untroubled by the dangers that threatened.

As I lay listening, and recognising the sport in which they were engaged, I could not help wishing that I was a child, and not mixed up with all these terrors just as if I were a man.

"If we could only be at peace again!" I thought; and I lay wakeful, still thinking of the garden, the growing fruit, the humming-birds that whirred about like great insects among the flowers, and emitted a bright flash every now and then as the sun glanced from their scale-like feathers.

Then I pictured the orioles too, that pale yellow one with the black back and wings, and the gay orange and black fellow I so often saw among the trees. "How beautiful it all used to be!" I sighed. "Why can't the Indians leave us alone?"

At last I grew drowsy, and lay dreamily fancying it was a hot, still night at home with the window open, and the cry of the whip-poor-will-- that curious night-jar--coming from out of the trees of the swamp far beyond the stream where the alligators bellowed and the frogs kept up their monotonous, croaking roar.

_Buzz_--_oooz_--_oooz_!

"Bother the flies!"

I was wide-awake with the sun glaring on the canvas, and a great fly banging against it, knocking and butting its head and wings, when all the time there was the wide opening through which it had come ready for it to fly out.

"Ugh! You stupid thing," I muttered, pettishly, as I lay watching it hardly awake, thinking I would get up and catch it, or try to drive it out; but feeling that if I did I should only kill it or damage it so that its life would be a misery to it, make myself hotter than I was, and perhaps not get rid of the fly after all.

"Well," I cried, pettishly, "that's too bad!"

For there was a fresh buzzing. Another fly had dashed in, and the two were playing a duet that was maddening to my overwrought senses.

"Now, what can be the use of flies?" I said, pettishly. "They are insufferable: buzzing, teasing, and stinging, making the whole place miserable."

I was in such an overstrung state from want of rest and excitement that I found myself thinking all kinds of nonsense, but there was some common-sense mixed up with it, like a few grains of oats amongst a great deal of the rough tares in which they grew, and I began to look at the state of affairs from the other point of view, as I watched those two flies darting here and there in zigzag, or sailing round and round, to every now and then encounter with a louder buzz, and dart off again. And in spite of my vexation, I found myself studying them, and thinking that small as they were their strength was immense. Compared to mine it was astounding. I walked a few miles and I was weary, but here were they apparently never tiring, darting here and there with their wings vibrating at such an astounding rate that they were invisible. _Whizz_--_whuzz_--_dash_!--here, there, and everywhere with lightning-like rapidity.

"It's wonderful," I said at last, and I thought how strange it was that I had never thought of such a thing before.

"Now I dare say," I found myself saying, "they think that we are as great a nuisance as we think them, for putting up a rough canvas tent like this, and catching them so that they cannot get out. Stuff! I don't believe flies can think, or else they would be able to find the way out again."

_Buzz_--_buzz_! _buzz_--_buzz_!

A regular heavy, regular long-drawn breathing that grew louder now after a rustling sound, and I knew at once that it was Pomp who had turned round, got into an uncomfortable position, and was now drawing his breath in a way that closely resembled a snore.

"Oh, you tiresome wretch!" I muttered. "How dare you go and sleep soundly when I am so tired out that I can't?"