Chapter Eighteen.

Chapter Eighteen.Humpy Dee’s Plan goes “a-gley.”It all seemed to Nic like part of some terrible dream, for a strange struggle was going on in his weakened brain, where reason seemed to come and go by pulsations. One minute everything appeared to be real, the next it was dream-like; and he was so convinced that in a short time he would wake up that he walked quietly on side by side with one of the negroes, taking notice of the place, which seemed to be a port, with the beginnings of a town dropped down in a scattered fashion a short distance from the mouth of a river. The houses were of timber, and to each there was a large, roughly fenced-in piece of cultivated ground, with some trees standing, while others had been cut down, leaving the blackened stumps in all directions.It was a strange mingling of shed, shipbuilding-yard, and store, for many of the erections and their surroundings wore all the aspect of barns. As the little party now tramped on, with the prisoners’ fetters giving forth a dull, clanking sound, the aspect of the place grew more and more rustic, the people who stopped to stare fewer, till, as they reached a large boarded house, evidently nearly new, and against whose rough fence a farmer-like man, in a damaged straw hat, was leaning, gazing intently at the prisoners. All beyond seemed trees and wild growth, amidst which the river made a curve, and the trampled track looked more green.Nic looked half-wonderingly at the man leaning upon the fence, and felt that he was going to speak in commiseration of his plight; but the next moment his hopes were dashed, for the settler shouted:“How are you, Master Saunders? How’s the Gaffer?”“All well,” said the overseer, with a nod.“Seems a nice, tidy, strong-limbed lot you’ve got there, master.”“Oh yes; pretty well.”“Some of all sorts. That’s an ugly one,” continued the farmer, pointing to Humpy Dee, and mentally valuing him as if he were one in a herd of cattle. “But I daresay he can work.”“He’ll have to,” said the overseer, and Nic saw that each black face wore a grin, while Humpy was scowling savagely.“Yes, I should like a lot such as that. ’Member me to the Gaffer. Tell him to look in if he comes to town.”“Yes,” thought Nic as they passed on; “it must be a dream, and I shall wake soon.”It grew more and more dream-like to him as the track was followed among the trees till a rough landing-place was reached, formed by some huge stakes driven down into the mud, with heavy planks stretched over to them, and others laid across. The reddening sun was turning the gliding water to gold, as it ran up the river now, for the flood-tide was running fast; and as they drew nearer, Nic caught sight of what looked like the launch of some large vessel swinging by a rope fastened to an upright of the landing-stage.Just then one of the blacks uttered a peculiar, melodious cry, the great dogs bounded on to the stage and began to bark, and a couple of blacks, dressed like those about him, sprang up in the boat, where they had been lying asleep, and began to haul upon the now unfastened rope to draw the craft up to the stage.Nic’s head was throbbing again, and the unreality and novelty of the scene increased.“I shall wake soon,” he said to himself. “How strange it is!”For at that moment, as the boat came abreast, he saw one of the great dogs leap from the stage, run to the stern, and sit down, the others following and joining it behind the seat provided with a back rail.It seemed to be no new thing to the blacks, for the huge fellow who had acted as smith stepped down into the boat, followed by his assistant, walked aft, and deposited his bag with the dogs, and then stooped down and drew from under the side-seat a couple of muskets, one of which he handed to his assistant, both examining their priming, and then seating themselves one on either side of the boat, with their guns between their legs, watching the embarkation.“You next,” said the overseer to Pete; and the prisoner walked to the edge, made as if to leap, but checked himself and climbed down, feeling that the other way would have been risky, weighted as his legs were by the shackles. “Help your young mate,” said the overseer roughly; and Pete’s eyes flashed as he stood up and held out his hand to Nic, who shrank from the contact as his wrist was caught. Then he descended feebly into the boat, and then had to be helped right forward, to sit down close to one of the blacks who was now holding on to the woodwork with a boat-hook.The other prisoners followed awkwardly enough in their irons, and took the places pointed out to them by one of the blacks who had been in charge of the boat.As the second of the party took his place next to Pete, he hung down his head and whispered:“Humpy says we’re to make a dash for it and take the boat.”Pete started; but the man, under the pretence of adjusting his irons, went on, with his head nearly in his comrade’s lap:“T’others know. We shall push off into the stream, where he can’t hit us with his pistols, and we can soon pitch the niggers overboard.”“Silence, there!” shouted the overseer.The other men descended, and exchanged glances with their companions—glances which Pete saw meant “Be ready!”—and his blood began to dance through his veins.Should he help, or shouldn’t he?Yes; they were his fellows in adversity, and it was for liberty: he must—he would; and, with his heart beating hard, he prepared for the struggle, feeling that they must succeed, for a blow or two would send the men by them overboard, and a thrust drive the boat gliding swiftly up-stream, the man with the boat-hook having enough to do to hold on.“Young Nic Revel don’t zeem to understand,” thought Pete; “but he couldn’t help us if he did.”He had hardly thought this when, in obedience to an order from the overseer, the last man, Humpy Dee, tramped clumsily to the edge and seemed to hesitate, with the result that there was a sharp bark from one of the dogs right astern, and a chill ran through Pete’s burning veins.“I forgot the dogs!” he said to himself.“Get down, fool!” cried the overseer, and he struck at the hesitating prisoner with the whip.It was all a feint on the part of Humpy to gain time and carry out his plan.He winced as the whip-lash caught him on his leg, and then, instead of descending slowly, leaped down right upon the black who held the boat to the stage by the hook.It was cleverly done, and acted as intended, for the black was driven over the side, and the prisoner’s weight gave the boat the impetus required, sending it a little adrift into the stream, which began to bear it away, but not before the result of a little miscalculation had made itself evident.For Humpy Dee had not allowed for the weight and cumbersomeness of his fetters; neither had he given them credit for their hampering nature. He had leaped and suddenly thrust the black overboard, to hang clinging to the boat-hook; but he had been unable to check himself from following; and, as the boat yielded to his weight and thrust, he seemed to take a header over the bow, there was a tremendous splash, and the water was driven over those seated forward.The two blacks astern leaped up, and the overseer uttered a cry of rage; the water closed over Humpy Dee’s head, while the dogs set up a chorus of baying as the boat glided steadily away.

It all seemed to Nic like part of some terrible dream, for a strange struggle was going on in his weakened brain, where reason seemed to come and go by pulsations. One minute everything appeared to be real, the next it was dream-like; and he was so convinced that in a short time he would wake up that he walked quietly on side by side with one of the negroes, taking notice of the place, which seemed to be a port, with the beginnings of a town dropped down in a scattered fashion a short distance from the mouth of a river. The houses were of timber, and to each there was a large, roughly fenced-in piece of cultivated ground, with some trees standing, while others had been cut down, leaving the blackened stumps in all directions.

It was a strange mingling of shed, shipbuilding-yard, and store, for many of the erections and their surroundings wore all the aspect of barns. As the little party now tramped on, with the prisoners’ fetters giving forth a dull, clanking sound, the aspect of the place grew more and more rustic, the people who stopped to stare fewer, till, as they reached a large boarded house, evidently nearly new, and against whose rough fence a farmer-like man, in a damaged straw hat, was leaning, gazing intently at the prisoners. All beyond seemed trees and wild growth, amidst which the river made a curve, and the trampled track looked more green.

Nic looked half-wonderingly at the man leaning upon the fence, and felt that he was going to speak in commiseration of his plight; but the next moment his hopes were dashed, for the settler shouted:

“How are you, Master Saunders? How’s the Gaffer?”

“All well,” said the overseer, with a nod.

“Seems a nice, tidy, strong-limbed lot you’ve got there, master.”

“Oh yes; pretty well.”

“Some of all sorts. That’s an ugly one,” continued the farmer, pointing to Humpy Dee, and mentally valuing him as if he were one in a herd of cattle. “But I daresay he can work.”

“He’ll have to,” said the overseer, and Nic saw that each black face wore a grin, while Humpy was scowling savagely.

“Yes, I should like a lot such as that. ’Member me to the Gaffer. Tell him to look in if he comes to town.”

“Yes,” thought Nic as they passed on; “it must be a dream, and I shall wake soon.”

It grew more and more dream-like to him as the track was followed among the trees till a rough landing-place was reached, formed by some huge stakes driven down into the mud, with heavy planks stretched over to them, and others laid across. The reddening sun was turning the gliding water to gold, as it ran up the river now, for the flood-tide was running fast; and as they drew nearer, Nic caught sight of what looked like the launch of some large vessel swinging by a rope fastened to an upright of the landing-stage.

Just then one of the blacks uttered a peculiar, melodious cry, the great dogs bounded on to the stage and began to bark, and a couple of blacks, dressed like those about him, sprang up in the boat, where they had been lying asleep, and began to haul upon the now unfastened rope to draw the craft up to the stage.

Nic’s head was throbbing again, and the unreality and novelty of the scene increased.

“I shall wake soon,” he said to himself. “How strange it is!”

For at that moment, as the boat came abreast, he saw one of the great dogs leap from the stage, run to the stern, and sit down, the others following and joining it behind the seat provided with a back rail.

It seemed to be no new thing to the blacks, for the huge fellow who had acted as smith stepped down into the boat, followed by his assistant, walked aft, and deposited his bag with the dogs, and then stooped down and drew from under the side-seat a couple of muskets, one of which he handed to his assistant, both examining their priming, and then seating themselves one on either side of the boat, with their guns between their legs, watching the embarkation.

“You next,” said the overseer to Pete; and the prisoner walked to the edge, made as if to leap, but checked himself and climbed down, feeling that the other way would have been risky, weighted as his legs were by the shackles. “Help your young mate,” said the overseer roughly; and Pete’s eyes flashed as he stood up and held out his hand to Nic, who shrank from the contact as his wrist was caught. Then he descended feebly into the boat, and then had to be helped right forward, to sit down close to one of the blacks who was now holding on to the woodwork with a boat-hook.

The other prisoners followed awkwardly enough in their irons, and took the places pointed out to them by one of the blacks who had been in charge of the boat.

As the second of the party took his place next to Pete, he hung down his head and whispered:

“Humpy says we’re to make a dash for it and take the boat.”

Pete started; but the man, under the pretence of adjusting his irons, went on, with his head nearly in his comrade’s lap:

“T’others know. We shall push off into the stream, where he can’t hit us with his pistols, and we can soon pitch the niggers overboard.”

“Silence, there!” shouted the overseer.

The other men descended, and exchanged glances with their companions—glances which Pete saw meant “Be ready!”—and his blood began to dance through his veins.

Should he help, or shouldn’t he?

Yes; they were his fellows in adversity, and it was for liberty: he must—he would; and, with his heart beating hard, he prepared for the struggle, feeling that they must succeed, for a blow or two would send the men by them overboard, and a thrust drive the boat gliding swiftly up-stream, the man with the boat-hook having enough to do to hold on.

“Young Nic Revel don’t zeem to understand,” thought Pete; “but he couldn’t help us if he did.”

He had hardly thought this when, in obedience to an order from the overseer, the last man, Humpy Dee, tramped clumsily to the edge and seemed to hesitate, with the result that there was a sharp bark from one of the dogs right astern, and a chill ran through Pete’s burning veins.

“I forgot the dogs!” he said to himself.

“Get down, fool!” cried the overseer, and he struck at the hesitating prisoner with the whip.

It was all a feint on the part of Humpy to gain time and carry out his plan.

He winced as the whip-lash caught him on his leg, and then, instead of descending slowly, leaped down right upon the black who held the boat to the stage by the hook.

It was cleverly done, and acted as intended, for the black was driven over the side, and the prisoner’s weight gave the boat the impetus required, sending it a little adrift into the stream, which began to bear it away, but not before the result of a little miscalculation had made itself evident.

For Humpy Dee had not allowed for the weight and cumbersomeness of his fetters; neither had he given them credit for their hampering nature. He had leaped and suddenly thrust the black overboard, to hang clinging to the boat-hook; but he had been unable to check himself from following; and, as the boat yielded to his weight and thrust, he seemed to take a header over the bow, there was a tremendous splash, and the water was driven over those seated forward.

The two blacks astern leaped up, and the overseer uttered a cry of rage; the water closed over Humpy Dee’s head, while the dogs set up a chorus of baying as the boat glided steadily away.

Chapter Nineteen.“What’ll Massa say?”The scene taking place before him acted strangely upon Nic. It seemed to rouse him from his dreamy state, and awakened him to a wild pitch of excitement.He sprang to his feet, and was on the point of springing overboard to the man’s help; but a touch from Pete upon the shoulder was enough: he sank down beneath its pressure, weak and helpless as a child.“What are you going to do?” whispered Pete. “Are you mad?”“Help! Save him! Can you stand like that and see the man drown before your eyes?”“What can I do, lad?” growled Pete angrily. “If I go over after him, it’s to drown myself. These irons’ll stop a man from zwimming, and take one to the bottom like a stone.”“Ay, ay; ye can’t do ’un,” growled one of the other prisoners, in whom the desire for escaping died out on the instant. “Sit still, lad; sit still.”But Pete stood with staring eyes, gazing wildly at the place where his enemy had disappeared; the veins in his forehead swelled, his lips parted, and he panted as he drew his breath, looking ready at any moment to leap overboard and make an effort to save his old companion’s life.Meanwhile the overseer was shouting orders to his blacks ashore as well as to those in the boat, which was gliding faster up the stream, and the men laid down their guns and picked up and put out a couple of oars, the dogs barking frantically the while.“Pete Burge,” whispered one of the men, “we must make friends now. Here’s our chance; shall we take it?”“No, no,” cried Pete furiously, but without taking his eyes from where Humpy had disappeared.“I cannot bear it,” panted Nic to himself, as he once more sprang up; and before he could be stayed he dived out of the boat, rose, and struck out for the landing-stage.Pete shouted at him in his agony, and jumped overboard to save him, forgetting what was bound to happen, and going down like a stone, feet foremost, but rising to the surface again, to fight gallantly in spite of the weight of his irons, and strive to overtake Nic, who, unencumbered, was some yards away.But it proved to be as Pete had foreseen; there was the gallant will and the strength to obey it, but it was merely a spasmodic force which only endured a minute or two. Then the brave young swimmer’s arms turned, as it were, to lead, the power to breast the strong current ceased, and he remained stationary for a moment or two, before being gradually borne backward, his efforts ceasing; while the men in the boat watched him and Pete, who, with the water quite to his nostrils, was swimming with all his strength, but only just able to keep the heavy fetters from dragging him to the bottom.“Two more on us going,” said one of the men. “Here, Bob; come and help. You stop and grab ’em as soon as they’re near.”The man and the comrade he had addressed scrambled over the thwarts towards where the two blacks were rowing hard, but hardly holding the heavy boat against the powerful tide; and as soon as the fetters clanked, the dogs barked savagely and leaped up to meet them; but as the intelligent beasts saw the men seize a couple of oars and thrust them over the sides, they stopped short, panting.“All the better for you,” growled one of the men to the dog glaring at him, “for I’d ha’ choked you if you’d come at me.—Pull away, blackies.”The additional oars had the right effect, for as the four men pulled with all their might the boat began to stem the current and shorten the distance between it and the two drowning men. But, in spite of his great strength, Pete was being mastered by the heavy weight of the irons, and was getting lower and lower in the water; while Nic’s arms had ceased to move, and he was drifting with the tide.“Keep up; strike out, lads,” cried the man in the bows, in agony. “We’re coming fast now.”It was not the truth, for the heavy boat was moving very slowly against the swift tide, and the swimmers’ fate seemed to be sealed, as the man reached back, got hold of another oar, and thrust it out over the bows, ready for Pete to grasp as soon as he came within reach.“We shall be too late,” groaned the man, with all his enmity against Pete forgotten in those wild moments of suspense. “Here, look out for the oar. Pete, lad, swim back. Oh! poor lad, he can’t hear me. He’s drownin’—he’s drownin’.”Pete could not hear, and if he had heard during his frantic efforts to reach Nic, he would not have heeded, for there was no room in the man’s brain in those wild moments for more than that one thought—that he must save that poor, weak fellow’s life.It takes long to describe, but in the real action all was condensed into less than a minute. Pete, who fought wildly, frantically, to keep his head above water, fought in vain, for his fettered legs were fast losing their power, and he was being drawn gradually lower and lower, till, after throwing his head back to gasp for a fresh breath, he straightened his neck again, with the water at his eyes, and saw that what he could not achieve the current had done for him.He made a wild, last effort, and caught with one hand at the arm just within reach; his fingers closed upon it with a grip of iron, and another hand caught desperately at his hair.Then the water closed over the pair, joined together in a death-grip, and the tide rolled them unresistingly up the stream.“Pull, pull!” yelled the man in the bows, as he reached out with his oar; but he could not touch the place where he saw the figures disappear. Quick as thought, though, and with the clever method of one accustomed to the management of a fishing-boat, the man changed his tactics. He laid the oar over the prow, treating the iron stem as a rowlock, and gave a couple of strokes with all his might, pulling the boat’s head round, and bringing it well within reach of the spot where Nic’s back rose and showed just beneath the surface. Then, leaving the oar, the man reached over, and was just in time to get a good hold, as the oar dropped from the bow into the river, and he was almost jerked out of the boat himself.“Hold hard, lads, and come and help,” he yelled.The help came; and, with the dogs barking furiously and getting in every one’s way, Nic and Pete, tightly embraced, were dragged over into the bottom of the boat, the blacks, as soon as this was done, standing shivering, and with a peculiar grey look about the lips.At that moment there was a distant hail from the landing-stage, and the big smith pulled himself together and hailed in reply.“Ah, look!” he cried; “you white fellow lose one oar. Quick, sharp! come and pull. Massa Saunders make trebble bobbery if we lose dat.”The oars were seized, and with two of the prisoners helping to row, the oar was recovered from where it was floating away with the tide, the others trying what they could do to restore the couple, who lay apparently lifeless; while the dog which had behaved so strangely earlier in the day stood snuffing about Nic, ending by planting his great paws upon the poor fellow’s chest, licking his face two or three times, and then throwing up his muzzle to utter a deep-toned, dismal howl, in which the others joined.“Say, um bofe dead,” groaned the big smith. “Pull, boy; all pull you bess, and get back to the massa. Oh, lorimee! lorimee! what massa will say along wi’ dat whip, all acause we drown two good men, and couldn’t help it a bit. Oh, pull, pull, pull! Shub de boat along. What will massa say?”

The scene taking place before him acted strangely upon Nic. It seemed to rouse him from his dreamy state, and awakened him to a wild pitch of excitement.

He sprang to his feet, and was on the point of springing overboard to the man’s help; but a touch from Pete upon the shoulder was enough: he sank down beneath its pressure, weak and helpless as a child.

“What are you going to do?” whispered Pete. “Are you mad?”

“Help! Save him! Can you stand like that and see the man drown before your eyes?”

“What can I do, lad?” growled Pete angrily. “If I go over after him, it’s to drown myself. These irons’ll stop a man from zwimming, and take one to the bottom like a stone.”

“Ay, ay; ye can’t do ’un,” growled one of the other prisoners, in whom the desire for escaping died out on the instant. “Sit still, lad; sit still.”

But Pete stood with staring eyes, gazing wildly at the place where his enemy had disappeared; the veins in his forehead swelled, his lips parted, and he panted as he drew his breath, looking ready at any moment to leap overboard and make an effort to save his old companion’s life.

Meanwhile the overseer was shouting orders to his blacks ashore as well as to those in the boat, which was gliding faster up the stream, and the men laid down their guns and picked up and put out a couple of oars, the dogs barking frantically the while.

“Pete Burge,” whispered one of the men, “we must make friends now. Here’s our chance; shall we take it?”

“No, no,” cried Pete furiously, but without taking his eyes from where Humpy had disappeared.

“I cannot bear it,” panted Nic to himself, as he once more sprang up; and before he could be stayed he dived out of the boat, rose, and struck out for the landing-stage.

Pete shouted at him in his agony, and jumped overboard to save him, forgetting what was bound to happen, and going down like a stone, feet foremost, but rising to the surface again, to fight gallantly in spite of the weight of his irons, and strive to overtake Nic, who, unencumbered, was some yards away.

But it proved to be as Pete had foreseen; there was the gallant will and the strength to obey it, but it was merely a spasmodic force which only endured a minute or two. Then the brave young swimmer’s arms turned, as it were, to lead, the power to breast the strong current ceased, and he remained stationary for a moment or two, before being gradually borne backward, his efforts ceasing; while the men in the boat watched him and Pete, who, with the water quite to his nostrils, was swimming with all his strength, but only just able to keep the heavy fetters from dragging him to the bottom.

“Two more on us going,” said one of the men. “Here, Bob; come and help. You stop and grab ’em as soon as they’re near.”

The man and the comrade he had addressed scrambled over the thwarts towards where the two blacks were rowing hard, but hardly holding the heavy boat against the powerful tide; and as soon as the fetters clanked, the dogs barked savagely and leaped up to meet them; but as the intelligent beasts saw the men seize a couple of oars and thrust them over the sides, they stopped short, panting.

“All the better for you,” growled one of the men to the dog glaring at him, “for I’d ha’ choked you if you’d come at me.—Pull away, blackies.”

The additional oars had the right effect, for as the four men pulled with all their might the boat began to stem the current and shorten the distance between it and the two drowning men. But, in spite of his great strength, Pete was being mastered by the heavy weight of the irons, and was getting lower and lower in the water; while Nic’s arms had ceased to move, and he was drifting with the tide.

“Keep up; strike out, lads,” cried the man in the bows, in agony. “We’re coming fast now.”

It was not the truth, for the heavy boat was moving very slowly against the swift tide, and the swimmers’ fate seemed to be sealed, as the man reached back, got hold of another oar, and thrust it out over the bows, ready for Pete to grasp as soon as he came within reach.

“We shall be too late,” groaned the man, with all his enmity against Pete forgotten in those wild moments of suspense. “Here, look out for the oar. Pete, lad, swim back. Oh! poor lad, he can’t hear me. He’s drownin’—he’s drownin’.”

Pete could not hear, and if he had heard during his frantic efforts to reach Nic, he would not have heeded, for there was no room in the man’s brain in those wild moments for more than that one thought—that he must save that poor, weak fellow’s life.

It takes long to describe, but in the real action all was condensed into less than a minute. Pete, who fought wildly, frantically, to keep his head above water, fought in vain, for his fettered legs were fast losing their power, and he was being drawn gradually lower and lower, till, after throwing his head back to gasp for a fresh breath, he straightened his neck again, with the water at his eyes, and saw that what he could not achieve the current had done for him.

He made a wild, last effort, and caught with one hand at the arm just within reach; his fingers closed upon it with a grip of iron, and another hand caught desperately at his hair.

Then the water closed over the pair, joined together in a death-grip, and the tide rolled them unresistingly up the stream.

“Pull, pull!” yelled the man in the bows, as he reached out with his oar; but he could not touch the place where he saw the figures disappear. Quick as thought, though, and with the clever method of one accustomed to the management of a fishing-boat, the man changed his tactics. He laid the oar over the prow, treating the iron stem as a rowlock, and gave a couple of strokes with all his might, pulling the boat’s head round, and bringing it well within reach of the spot where Nic’s back rose and showed just beneath the surface. Then, leaving the oar, the man reached over, and was just in time to get a good hold, as the oar dropped from the bow into the river, and he was almost jerked out of the boat himself.

“Hold hard, lads, and come and help,” he yelled.

The help came; and, with the dogs barking furiously and getting in every one’s way, Nic and Pete, tightly embraced, were dragged over into the bottom of the boat, the blacks, as soon as this was done, standing shivering, and with a peculiar grey look about the lips.

At that moment there was a distant hail from the landing-stage, and the big smith pulled himself together and hailed in reply.

“Ah, look!” he cried; “you white fellow lose one oar. Quick, sharp! come and pull. Massa Saunders make trebble bobbery if we lose dat.”

The oars were seized, and with two of the prisoners helping to row, the oar was recovered from where it was floating away with the tide, the others trying what they could do to restore the couple, who lay apparently lifeless; while the dog which had behaved so strangely earlier in the day stood snuffing about Nic, ending by planting his great paws upon the poor fellow’s chest, licking his face two or three times, and then throwing up his muzzle to utter a deep-toned, dismal howl, in which the others joined.

“Say, um bofe dead,” groaned the big smith. “Pull, boy; all pull you bess, and get back to the massa. Oh, lorimee! lorimee! what massa will say along wi’ dat whip, all acause we drown two good men, and couldn’t help it a bit. Oh, pull, pull, pull! Shub de boat along. What will massa say?”

Chapter Twenty.Fishing for Men.Those with the boat had been too much occupied in their own adventure to heed what had taken place at the landing-stage; and, even had they glanced in that direction, the distance the swift tide had carried them up-stream would have made every movement indistinct.But busy moments had passed there, for the overseer was a man of action, and prompt to take measures toward saving the life of the drowning man. For a human life was valuable in those early days of the American colonies, especially the life of a strong, healthy slave who could work in the broiling sunshine to win the harvest of the rich, fertile soil.So, as the boat drifted away, he gave his orders sharply, and the black slaves, who had stood helplessly staring, rushed to the help of their companion, who was hanging by the boat-hook, half in the water, afraid to stir lest the iron should give way and the tide carry him off to where, as he well knew, there were dangers which made his lips turn grey with dread.The help came just as the poor fellow was ready to lose his hold and slip back into the river, and in another minute he was shivering on the stage.“Take hold of that boat-hook,” cried the overseer, speaking with his eyes fixed upon one spot, where the water ran eddying and forming tiny whirlpools, and not daring to look round for fear of losing sight of the place where it seemed to him that his white slave had gone down like a stone; and this had kept him from giving much heed to the proceedings in the boat.One of the men seized the pole and waited for the next order.“He went down there,” cried the overseer, pointing. “Sound with the pole, and try how deep it is.”The man obeyed, the pole touching the muddy bottom about four feet below the surface.“That’s right; jump in,” cried Saunders.The man started, and then remained motionless, gazing piteously at his companions.“Do you hear? Quick!” roared the overseer.“There big ’gator, sah—’gator gar, sah,” cried the man piteously.“Bah! In with you,” cried the overseer fiercely, and he cracked his whip, with the result that the man lowered the pole again, and then half-slipped, half-jumped down into the water, which rose breast-high, and he had to hold on by the boat-hook to keep himself from being swept away.But the next moment he steadied himself.“There, wade out,” cried Saunders; “quick, before it is too late. Quick, sir; do you hear?”He cracked his whip loudly as he spoke, and the man raised the pole after separating his legs to increase his support, as he leaned to his left to bear against the rushing tide, which threatened to sweep him from his feet. Then, reaching out, he thrust down the boat-hook again to get another support before taking a step farther from the staging.But it was in vain. The water deepened so suddenly that as he took the step the water rose to his nostrils, and he uttered a yell, for the current swept him from his feet to fall over sidewise, and the next moment lay, as it were, upon the surface, with only one side of his face visible; but he was not borne away.The other blacks, and even the overseer, stared in wonder, for there the man lay, with the tide rushing by him, anchored, as it were, in the stream, rising and falling gently like a buoy for a few moments before beginning to glide with the current.“It’s of no use,” said the overseer sharply; “the hound’s dead before now. Clumsy fool! Two of you jump in, and one reach out to get hold of Xerxes; we must give the new fellow up.”The men shrank, but they obeyed, lowering themselves into the water and joining hands, one of them taking hold of the end of the staging, while the other waded a step or two and reached out, as he clung to his fellow’s extended hand till he was just able to get hold of the cotton jacket.That was sufficient; the black was drawn a trifle shoreward, and then came more and more, as if dragging with him whatever it was that had anchored him to the bottom.That mystery was soon explained, for the pole of the boat-hook, to which the poor fellow clung, appeared level with the surface, and as the drag was increased more and more of the pole appeared, till all three were close up to the piles; after which first one and then another climbed out to drag at the long stout staff, till, to the surprise of all, they found that what it was hitched into was the clothes of Humpy Dee, who had lain nearly where he had sunk, anchored by the weight of his irons, in some hole where the pressure of the current was not so great as at the surface.In another minute the heavy figure had been hauled upon the platform, to lie there apparently dead; while the blacks began, after their homely, clumsy fashion, to try and crush out any tiny spark of life which might remain, and kept on rolling the heavy body to and fro with all their might.“It’s no good, boys,” said the overseer, frowning down at the prisoner. “Keep on for a bit, though;” and he turned away to watch the coming of the boat, just as Pete sat up, looking dazed and strange, and Nic rose to his knees, and then painfully seated himself in his old place.“Better than I thought for,” muttered the overseer. “One gone instead of three—pull, boys,” he shouted.The blacks needed no telling, for they were exerting themselves to the utmost, and in a few minutes one of the blacks on the landing-stage caught the prow with the hook, and the boat was drawn alongside of the woodwork, the dogs having quietly settled themselves in their place behind the stern seat as soon as the two half-drowned men had shown signs of recovery.The overseer scanned the two dripping figures hard, uttered a grunt, and turned once more to where the blacks were busy still with the heavy figure of Humpy Dee, which they were rolling and rubbing unmercifully, with the water trickling between the boards, and the sunset light giving a peculiarly warm glow to the man’s bronzed skin.“Well,” cried the overseer, “is he quite dead?”“No, sah; am t’ink he quite ’livo,” said one of the blacks.“Eh? What makes you think that?”“Him bit warm, massa—and just now him saywhuzz,whuzzwhen we rub um front.”“No,” said the overseer; “impossible. He was under the water too long. Here, what are you doing?”The black had laid his ear against the patient’s breast, but he started up again.“Lissum; hear whever him dead, massa. You come, put your head down heah, and you hear um gowob,wobberry soffly.”Saunders bent down and laid his head against the man’s bull-throat, to keep it there for a few moments.“No gowob,wob, sah?” cried the black. “You two and me gib um big shake. Um go den.”“No, no; let him be,” cried the overseer; and the blacks looked on in perfect silence till their tyrant rose slowly to his feet, scowling.“Clumsy brute,” he said, “causing all this trouble and hindrance. Nearly drowned two men. There, two of you take him by his head and heels and drop him in.”“Tie big ’tone to um head first, massa?”“What!” roared the overseer, so sharply that the black jumped to his feet. “What do you mean?”“Make um go to de bottom, sah, and neber come up no more.”“Bah! you grinning black idiot. Didn’t you tell me he was alive?”“Yes, sah; quite ’livo, sah.”“Drop him in the boat, then, and hurry about it, or we shan’t get up to the farm before the tide turns. There, four of you take him; and you below there, ease him down. Don’t let him go overboard again, if you want to keep whole skins.”The men seized the heavy figure by the hands and legs, and bearing it quite to the edge, lowered it down to the others, room being made at the bottom of the boat, where it was deposited with about as much ceremony as a sack of corn. Then, in obedience to another order, the blacks descended, and the overseer stepped down last, to seat himself with his back to the dogs; while the smith and his assistant once more took up their guns and their places as guards. Then the boat was pushed off. Four of the blacks seized the oars, the boat’s head swung round, and the next minute, with but little effort, she was gliding rapidly up the muddy stream.It was dangerous work to begin talking, but as Nic sat there in silence, with his head growing clearer, and gazing compassionately at the prostrate figure, two of the prisoners put their heads together and began to whisper.“Close shave for old Humpy,” said one. “Think he’ll come round again?”“Dunno; but if he does, I’m not going to help in any more games about going off. This job has made me sick.”“He won’t want you to; this must have pretty well sickened him if he comes to.”“Mind what you’re saying. That there black image is trying to hear every word.”“He can’t understand. But I say, the gaffer didn’t know how it happened, after all. Thought it was an accident.”“So it was,” said the other man, with a grim smile, “for old Humpy. Here, Pete, old man, how are you now?”Pete looked at the speaker in wonder, then nodded, and said quietly:“Bit stiff and achey about the back of the neck.”“Mind shaking hands, mate?” said the man in a faint whisper.“What for?” said Pete sourly.“’Cause I like what you did, mate. It was acting like a man. But we’re not friends over that other business of splitting on us about the salmon.”“Better wait a bit, then, my lad,” said Pete. “It aren’t good to shake hands with a man like me.”“But I say it is,” said the other with emphasis. “The way you went overboard with them heavy irons on, to try and save young master here, sent my heart up in my mouth.”Nic, who had sat listening moodily to the whispered conversation, suddenly looked up in a quick, eager way.“Say that again,” he whispered huskily.“Say what agen?”“Did Pete Burge jump in to save my life?”“Course he did—like a man.”“Oh!” gasped Nic, turning to look Pete wonderingly in the face.“Silence there!” roared the overseer savagely. “Do you think you’ve come out here for a holiday, you insolent dogs?”At the last words the three animals behind the speaker took it to themselves, and began to bark.“Down! Quiet!” roared the overseer, and the barking of the dogs and his loud command came echoing back from a wood of great overhanging trees, as the boat now passed a curve of the river.Nic glanced at the overseer, then to right and left of him, before letting his eyes drop on the swiftly-flowing river, to try and think out clearly the answers to a couple of questions which seemed to be buzzing in his brain: “Where are we going? How is this to end?”But there was no answer. All seemed black ahead as the rapidly-coming night.

Those with the boat had been too much occupied in their own adventure to heed what had taken place at the landing-stage; and, even had they glanced in that direction, the distance the swift tide had carried them up-stream would have made every movement indistinct.

But busy moments had passed there, for the overseer was a man of action, and prompt to take measures toward saving the life of the drowning man. For a human life was valuable in those early days of the American colonies, especially the life of a strong, healthy slave who could work in the broiling sunshine to win the harvest of the rich, fertile soil.

So, as the boat drifted away, he gave his orders sharply, and the black slaves, who had stood helplessly staring, rushed to the help of their companion, who was hanging by the boat-hook, half in the water, afraid to stir lest the iron should give way and the tide carry him off to where, as he well knew, there were dangers which made his lips turn grey with dread.

The help came just as the poor fellow was ready to lose his hold and slip back into the river, and in another minute he was shivering on the stage.

“Take hold of that boat-hook,” cried the overseer, speaking with his eyes fixed upon one spot, where the water ran eddying and forming tiny whirlpools, and not daring to look round for fear of losing sight of the place where it seemed to him that his white slave had gone down like a stone; and this had kept him from giving much heed to the proceedings in the boat.

One of the men seized the pole and waited for the next order.

“He went down there,” cried the overseer, pointing. “Sound with the pole, and try how deep it is.”

The man obeyed, the pole touching the muddy bottom about four feet below the surface.

“That’s right; jump in,” cried Saunders.

The man started, and then remained motionless, gazing piteously at his companions.

“Do you hear? Quick!” roared the overseer.

“There big ’gator, sah—’gator gar, sah,” cried the man piteously.

“Bah! In with you,” cried the overseer fiercely, and he cracked his whip, with the result that the man lowered the pole again, and then half-slipped, half-jumped down into the water, which rose breast-high, and he had to hold on by the boat-hook to keep himself from being swept away.

But the next moment he steadied himself.

“There, wade out,” cried Saunders; “quick, before it is too late. Quick, sir; do you hear?”

He cracked his whip loudly as he spoke, and the man raised the pole after separating his legs to increase his support, as he leaned to his left to bear against the rushing tide, which threatened to sweep him from his feet. Then, reaching out, he thrust down the boat-hook again to get another support before taking a step farther from the staging.

But it was in vain. The water deepened so suddenly that as he took the step the water rose to his nostrils, and he uttered a yell, for the current swept him from his feet to fall over sidewise, and the next moment lay, as it were, upon the surface, with only one side of his face visible; but he was not borne away.

The other blacks, and even the overseer, stared in wonder, for there the man lay, with the tide rushing by him, anchored, as it were, in the stream, rising and falling gently like a buoy for a few moments before beginning to glide with the current.

“It’s of no use,” said the overseer sharply; “the hound’s dead before now. Clumsy fool! Two of you jump in, and one reach out to get hold of Xerxes; we must give the new fellow up.”

The men shrank, but they obeyed, lowering themselves into the water and joining hands, one of them taking hold of the end of the staging, while the other waded a step or two and reached out, as he clung to his fellow’s extended hand till he was just able to get hold of the cotton jacket.

That was sufficient; the black was drawn a trifle shoreward, and then came more and more, as if dragging with him whatever it was that had anchored him to the bottom.

That mystery was soon explained, for the pole of the boat-hook, to which the poor fellow clung, appeared level with the surface, and as the drag was increased more and more of the pole appeared, till all three were close up to the piles; after which first one and then another climbed out to drag at the long stout staff, till, to the surprise of all, they found that what it was hitched into was the clothes of Humpy Dee, who had lain nearly where he had sunk, anchored by the weight of his irons, in some hole where the pressure of the current was not so great as at the surface.

In another minute the heavy figure had been hauled upon the platform, to lie there apparently dead; while the blacks began, after their homely, clumsy fashion, to try and crush out any tiny spark of life which might remain, and kept on rolling the heavy body to and fro with all their might.

“It’s no good, boys,” said the overseer, frowning down at the prisoner. “Keep on for a bit, though;” and he turned away to watch the coming of the boat, just as Pete sat up, looking dazed and strange, and Nic rose to his knees, and then painfully seated himself in his old place.

“Better than I thought for,” muttered the overseer. “One gone instead of three—pull, boys,” he shouted.

The blacks needed no telling, for they were exerting themselves to the utmost, and in a few minutes one of the blacks on the landing-stage caught the prow with the hook, and the boat was drawn alongside of the woodwork, the dogs having quietly settled themselves in their place behind the stern seat as soon as the two half-drowned men had shown signs of recovery.

The overseer scanned the two dripping figures hard, uttered a grunt, and turned once more to where the blacks were busy still with the heavy figure of Humpy Dee, which they were rolling and rubbing unmercifully, with the water trickling between the boards, and the sunset light giving a peculiarly warm glow to the man’s bronzed skin.

“Well,” cried the overseer, “is he quite dead?”

“No, sah; am t’ink he quite ’livo,” said one of the blacks.

“Eh? What makes you think that?”

“Him bit warm, massa—and just now him saywhuzz,whuzzwhen we rub um front.”

“No,” said the overseer; “impossible. He was under the water too long. Here, what are you doing?”

The black had laid his ear against the patient’s breast, but he started up again.

“Lissum; hear whever him dead, massa. You come, put your head down heah, and you hear um gowob,wobberry soffly.”

Saunders bent down and laid his head against the man’s bull-throat, to keep it there for a few moments.

“No gowob,wob, sah?” cried the black. “You two and me gib um big shake. Um go den.”

“No, no; let him be,” cried the overseer; and the blacks looked on in perfect silence till their tyrant rose slowly to his feet, scowling.

“Clumsy brute,” he said, “causing all this trouble and hindrance. Nearly drowned two men. There, two of you take him by his head and heels and drop him in.”

“Tie big ’tone to um head first, massa?”

“What!” roared the overseer, so sharply that the black jumped to his feet. “What do you mean?”

“Make um go to de bottom, sah, and neber come up no more.”

“Bah! you grinning black idiot. Didn’t you tell me he was alive?”

“Yes, sah; quite ’livo, sah.”

“Drop him in the boat, then, and hurry about it, or we shan’t get up to the farm before the tide turns. There, four of you take him; and you below there, ease him down. Don’t let him go overboard again, if you want to keep whole skins.”

The men seized the heavy figure by the hands and legs, and bearing it quite to the edge, lowered it down to the others, room being made at the bottom of the boat, where it was deposited with about as much ceremony as a sack of corn. Then, in obedience to another order, the blacks descended, and the overseer stepped down last, to seat himself with his back to the dogs; while the smith and his assistant once more took up their guns and their places as guards. Then the boat was pushed off. Four of the blacks seized the oars, the boat’s head swung round, and the next minute, with but little effort, she was gliding rapidly up the muddy stream.

It was dangerous work to begin talking, but as Nic sat there in silence, with his head growing clearer, and gazing compassionately at the prostrate figure, two of the prisoners put their heads together and began to whisper.

“Close shave for old Humpy,” said one. “Think he’ll come round again?”

“Dunno; but if he does, I’m not going to help in any more games about going off. This job has made me sick.”

“He won’t want you to; this must have pretty well sickened him if he comes to.”

“Mind what you’re saying. That there black image is trying to hear every word.”

“He can’t understand. But I say, the gaffer didn’t know how it happened, after all. Thought it was an accident.”

“So it was,” said the other man, with a grim smile, “for old Humpy. Here, Pete, old man, how are you now?”

Pete looked at the speaker in wonder, then nodded, and said quietly:

“Bit stiff and achey about the back of the neck.”

“Mind shaking hands, mate?” said the man in a faint whisper.

“What for?” said Pete sourly.

“’Cause I like what you did, mate. It was acting like a man. But we’re not friends over that other business of splitting on us about the salmon.”

“Better wait a bit, then, my lad,” said Pete. “It aren’t good to shake hands with a man like me.”

“But I say it is,” said the other with emphasis. “The way you went overboard with them heavy irons on, to try and save young master here, sent my heart up in my mouth.”

Nic, who had sat listening moodily to the whispered conversation, suddenly looked up in a quick, eager way.

“Say that again,” he whispered huskily.

“Say what agen?”

“Did Pete Burge jump in to save my life?”

“Course he did—like a man.”

“Oh!” gasped Nic, turning to look Pete wonderingly in the face.

“Silence there!” roared the overseer savagely. “Do you think you’ve come out here for a holiday, you insolent dogs?”

At the last words the three animals behind the speaker took it to themselves, and began to bark.

“Down! Quiet!” roared the overseer, and the barking of the dogs and his loud command came echoing back from a wood of great overhanging trees, as the boat now passed a curve of the river.

Nic glanced at the overseer, then to right and left of him, before letting his eyes drop on the swiftly-flowing river, to try and think out clearly the answers to a couple of questions which seemed to be buzzing in his brain: “Where are we going? How is this to end?”

But there was no answer. All seemed black ahead as the rapidly-coming night.

Chapter Twenty One.In Alligator Land.As the night grew darker, and Nic sat in the forepart of the boat in his drenched clothes, which at first felt pleasantly cool, and then by degrees grew colder until he shivered, his head grew clearer and he became more himself. He was able to grasp more fully his position and how hardly fate had dealt with him.It was clear enough now; he had been sent off in that terrible blunder as one of the salmon-poachers; and he was there, sold or hired to one of the colonists, to work upon a plantation until he could make his position known to some one in authority, and then all would be right. He felt that it would be of no use to appeal to this brutal slave-driver who had him and his fellow-unfortunates in charge. What he had to do was to wait patiently and make the best of things till then.His head was rapidly growing so clear now that he could piece the disconnected fragments of his experience together, few as they were, and broken up by his sufferings from the injuries he had received; and, as he sat there in the darkness, he became more calm, and rejoiced in the thought that he was growing stronger, and would, without doubt, soon be fully recovered and able to act. Till then he made up his mind to wait.When he had arrived at this point he began to think about his position in connection with the rough ne’er-do-wells who were his companions. He shivered involuntarily at the thought of being in such close touch with men of this class; but he softened a little as he dwelt upon the fact that, bad as he was, Pete Burge had behaved bravely, and that he had to thank him for twice-over saving his life. He might have said three times, but he was unaware of the patient attention he had received from the man during the feverish hours produced by his contusions and wound. But, still, there was a feeling of revulsion which made him shrink from contact with one whom he felt to be the cause of all his sufferings, and he hardened himself against the man more than against the others.Then, with a sigh of relief, he cast all thoughts of self away, after coming to the conclusion that, as soon as his father realised what had happened, he would never rest till the authorities had had him found and brought back, even if a ship was purposely despatched.For this thought was very comforting. He had only to wait, he felt, little thinking that the old Captain was lying in peril of his life from the genuine trouble which had come upon him, as he mourned over the loss of the son whom he believed to be dead, and for the recovery of whose body he had offered a heavy reward to the fishermen.For he said to Solly, “One of these days they will find him cast up on the shore.”It was very dark; the cloudy sky seemed to be hanging low over the heads of those in the boat, as the men rowed on till the overseer made a change in his crew; the four blacks who had been rowing taking the places of those who had been guards and steersman, while the rowers took the muskets in turn.The fresh crew pulled steadily and well, and the boat glided on along the winding river, whose banks grew more and more wooded until they seemed to be going through a thick forest, whose closely-growing trees formed dense, high walls, above which there was a strip of dark, almost black, sky.Then another change was made, just when Nic was suffering from a fresh anxiety; for after he had proved to himself, by kneeling in the boat and touching him, that Humpy Dee was alive and regaining consciousness, his companions had suddenly grown very quiet, and the dread had assailed Nic that the man was dead, for he had been left to take his chance as far as the overseer was concerned; and when twice-over the prisoners had begun to trouble themselves about their comrade’s state, Nic setting the example by kneeling down to raise Humpy’s head, a stern command came from the stern of the boat, and this threat:“Look here, you fellows; if I hear any more talking or shuffling about there I shall fire.”Nic felt that the man would act up to his threat; but after a time, when a groan came from Humpy, the whispering and movements recommenced in the efforts made to succour the sufferer.“I don’t speak again,” roared the overseer; and Nic started and shuddered, but felt fiercely indignant the next moment as he heard the ominousclick!click! of a pistol-lock from out of the darkness astern.At last came the order for a fresh change of rowers, and four of the captives went climbing over the thwarts, with their irons clanking and striking against the seats as they took their places, all being men who had been accustomed to the handling of an oar.Nic took advantage of the noise to sink upon his knees beside Humpy in the bottom of the boat to try if he could not do something for him; he was no longer the hated, brutal ruffian, but a suffering fellow-creature. As Nic felt about in the dark he found that the man had somehow shifted his position and slightly rolled over, so that his face was partly in the water which had collected for want of baling; and doubtless, in his helpless, semi-insensible state, but for Nic’s efforts, Humpy Dee’s career would after all have been at an end.It was only a fresh instance of how strangely we are all dependent upon one another, and the way in which enemies perform deeds which they themselves would previously have looked upon as impossible. And without doubt big, brutal Humpy Dee would have stared in wonder, could he have opened his eyes in daylight, to see what took place in the pitch-darkness—to wit, the feeble, suffering young man, whom he had struck down and tried to drown in the Devon salmon-pool, kneeling in the wash-water, making a pillow of his knees for his companion’s rough, coarse head.Still, for hours this was Nic’s position, while the boat was rowed by the white slaves along the winding river, until another change was made, the blacks taking the oars, when Pete, being the first of the rowers to come back to his seat, found what had taken place, and insisted upon relieving Nic of his task.“On’y to think of it, zur,” he said; “on’y to think o’ your doing o’ that, and you so bad!”Nic said nothing, but had to be helped back to his seat, the position he had occupied having cramped him; and then once more he sat gazing at the great black wall opposite to him as the blacks sent the boat along, till suddenly, about midnight, there was heard a deep bark from somewhere ashore.The three dogs, which had been curled up asleep, sprang to their feet and answered in chorus, when another chorus rose from the right and came nearer and nearer. Then the black wall on the same side dropped away, and amidst the baying of the great hounds the boat’s speed was slackened, and it was turned into a narrow creek. Here the oars were laid in, and progress was continued for about a hundred yards by a couple of the blacks poling the boat along towards a light which suddenly appeared, the bearer hailing and coming alongside to begin talking to the overseer.It was dark enough still; but another lanthorn was brought, the prisoners were ordered to step out, and were then marched to a barn-like place, where, as they entered a door, Nic felt the soft rustling of Indian-corn leaves beneath his feet.“In with you, boys,” cried the overseer; and the three dogs, and the others which had saluted them, scampered in. “Watch ’em, boys, and give it to them if they try to get away. There, lie down.”The man held up the lanthorn he had taken as he spoke, and Nic saw that seven of the great hounds settled themselves in a heap of leaves close to the door, while quite a stack was close to where he was standing with his companions.“There’s your bed, my lads,” cried the overseer. “You heard what I said. Lie down, all of you, at once. There will be a sentry with a musket outside, and you can guess what his orders are.”The man strode out; the door was banged to, there was the noise of a big bar being thrown across and the rattling of a padlock, followed by the clink of fetters as their wearers lay down in the heap of sweet-smelling corn-stalks and leaves; and for a few moments no one spoke.Nic had sunk down in the darkness, glad to be in a restful posture, and began to wonder whether Humpy Dee had been carried in by the blacks, for he had been one of the first to leave the boat, and had seen hardly anything by the light of the lanthorns.“Poor wretch!” he sighed. “I hope he is not dead.”Just then one of the other men said, in the broad Devon burr:“Zay, lads, bean’t they going to give uz zum’at to eat?”“Brakfus-time,” said another. “Zay, Humpy, how is it with ye? Not thuzty, are you? Oughtn’t to be, after all that water.”“I’m going to make zumun pay for all this,” came in the man’s familiar growl. “Why didn’t you get hold o’ me and pull me in? Zet o’ vools. Had your chance; and we might ha’ got away.”“Why, it was all your fault,” said another. “We was waitin’ for you. What did you go and stop zo long under water for?”“Did I?” said Humpy confusedly.“Course you did. We was too good mates to go and leave you behind.”There was a heavy bang at the door, as if from the butt of a musket, and the dogs leaped up and began to growl.“Lie down, boys,” cried a thick voice, the words sounding as if spoken through a big keyhole. “An’ I say, you chaps, look heah; de massa say you make a row in dah I got to shoot.”“All right, blackie,” said one of the prisoners; “don’t shoot. Good-night, boys. I’m going to sleep.”Just at that moment Nic started, for there was a snuffling noise close to him, the leaves rustled, and he felt the hot breath of one of the dogs on his face.But it was a friendly visit, for the great brute turned round two or three times to trample down the dense bed of leaves, and settled itself into a comfortable curve, with its big head upon the poor fellow’s chest, making Nic wonder whether it was the dog which had been friendly before.He risked it: raising his hand, he laid it gently between the animal’s soft ears, and there was a low muttering sound that was a big sigh of satisfaction, not a growl; and Nic felt as if the companionship of the dog was pleasant in his terrible loneliness and despair. It was warm and soothing, too, and seemed like the beginning of something hopeful—he knew not what. Then he began to think of home, and a sensation of prayerful thankfulness came over him as he felt that his head was growing clearer. The next minute all trouble, pain, and weariness were forgotten in a deep and dreamless sleep.

As the night grew darker, and Nic sat in the forepart of the boat in his drenched clothes, which at first felt pleasantly cool, and then by degrees grew colder until he shivered, his head grew clearer and he became more himself. He was able to grasp more fully his position and how hardly fate had dealt with him.

It was clear enough now; he had been sent off in that terrible blunder as one of the salmon-poachers; and he was there, sold or hired to one of the colonists, to work upon a plantation until he could make his position known to some one in authority, and then all would be right. He felt that it would be of no use to appeal to this brutal slave-driver who had him and his fellow-unfortunates in charge. What he had to do was to wait patiently and make the best of things till then.

His head was rapidly growing so clear now that he could piece the disconnected fragments of his experience together, few as they were, and broken up by his sufferings from the injuries he had received; and, as he sat there in the darkness, he became more calm, and rejoiced in the thought that he was growing stronger, and would, without doubt, soon be fully recovered and able to act. Till then he made up his mind to wait.

When he had arrived at this point he began to think about his position in connection with the rough ne’er-do-wells who were his companions. He shivered involuntarily at the thought of being in such close touch with men of this class; but he softened a little as he dwelt upon the fact that, bad as he was, Pete Burge had behaved bravely, and that he had to thank him for twice-over saving his life. He might have said three times, but he was unaware of the patient attention he had received from the man during the feverish hours produced by his contusions and wound. But, still, there was a feeling of revulsion which made him shrink from contact with one whom he felt to be the cause of all his sufferings, and he hardened himself against the man more than against the others.

Then, with a sigh of relief, he cast all thoughts of self away, after coming to the conclusion that, as soon as his father realised what had happened, he would never rest till the authorities had had him found and brought back, even if a ship was purposely despatched.

For this thought was very comforting. He had only to wait, he felt, little thinking that the old Captain was lying in peril of his life from the genuine trouble which had come upon him, as he mourned over the loss of the son whom he believed to be dead, and for the recovery of whose body he had offered a heavy reward to the fishermen.

For he said to Solly, “One of these days they will find him cast up on the shore.”

It was very dark; the cloudy sky seemed to be hanging low over the heads of those in the boat, as the men rowed on till the overseer made a change in his crew; the four blacks who had been rowing taking the places of those who had been guards and steersman, while the rowers took the muskets in turn.

The fresh crew pulled steadily and well, and the boat glided on along the winding river, whose banks grew more and more wooded until they seemed to be going through a thick forest, whose closely-growing trees formed dense, high walls, above which there was a strip of dark, almost black, sky.

Then another change was made, just when Nic was suffering from a fresh anxiety; for after he had proved to himself, by kneeling in the boat and touching him, that Humpy Dee was alive and regaining consciousness, his companions had suddenly grown very quiet, and the dread had assailed Nic that the man was dead, for he had been left to take his chance as far as the overseer was concerned; and when twice-over the prisoners had begun to trouble themselves about their comrade’s state, Nic setting the example by kneeling down to raise Humpy’s head, a stern command came from the stern of the boat, and this threat:

“Look here, you fellows; if I hear any more talking or shuffling about there I shall fire.”

Nic felt that the man would act up to his threat; but after a time, when a groan came from Humpy, the whispering and movements recommenced in the efforts made to succour the sufferer.

“I don’t speak again,” roared the overseer; and Nic started and shuddered, but felt fiercely indignant the next moment as he heard the ominousclick!click! of a pistol-lock from out of the darkness astern.

At last came the order for a fresh change of rowers, and four of the captives went climbing over the thwarts, with their irons clanking and striking against the seats as they took their places, all being men who had been accustomed to the handling of an oar.

Nic took advantage of the noise to sink upon his knees beside Humpy in the bottom of the boat to try if he could not do something for him; he was no longer the hated, brutal ruffian, but a suffering fellow-creature. As Nic felt about in the dark he found that the man had somehow shifted his position and slightly rolled over, so that his face was partly in the water which had collected for want of baling; and doubtless, in his helpless, semi-insensible state, but for Nic’s efforts, Humpy Dee’s career would after all have been at an end.

It was only a fresh instance of how strangely we are all dependent upon one another, and the way in which enemies perform deeds which they themselves would previously have looked upon as impossible. And without doubt big, brutal Humpy Dee would have stared in wonder, could he have opened his eyes in daylight, to see what took place in the pitch-darkness—to wit, the feeble, suffering young man, whom he had struck down and tried to drown in the Devon salmon-pool, kneeling in the wash-water, making a pillow of his knees for his companion’s rough, coarse head.

Still, for hours this was Nic’s position, while the boat was rowed by the white slaves along the winding river, until another change was made, the blacks taking the oars, when Pete, being the first of the rowers to come back to his seat, found what had taken place, and insisted upon relieving Nic of his task.

“On’y to think of it, zur,” he said; “on’y to think o’ your doing o’ that, and you so bad!”

Nic said nothing, but had to be helped back to his seat, the position he had occupied having cramped him; and then once more he sat gazing at the great black wall opposite to him as the blacks sent the boat along, till suddenly, about midnight, there was heard a deep bark from somewhere ashore.

The three dogs, which had been curled up asleep, sprang to their feet and answered in chorus, when another chorus rose from the right and came nearer and nearer. Then the black wall on the same side dropped away, and amidst the baying of the great hounds the boat’s speed was slackened, and it was turned into a narrow creek. Here the oars were laid in, and progress was continued for about a hundred yards by a couple of the blacks poling the boat along towards a light which suddenly appeared, the bearer hailing and coming alongside to begin talking to the overseer.

It was dark enough still; but another lanthorn was brought, the prisoners were ordered to step out, and were then marched to a barn-like place, where, as they entered a door, Nic felt the soft rustling of Indian-corn leaves beneath his feet.

“In with you, boys,” cried the overseer; and the three dogs, and the others which had saluted them, scampered in. “Watch ’em, boys, and give it to them if they try to get away. There, lie down.”

The man held up the lanthorn he had taken as he spoke, and Nic saw that seven of the great hounds settled themselves in a heap of leaves close to the door, while quite a stack was close to where he was standing with his companions.

“There’s your bed, my lads,” cried the overseer. “You heard what I said. Lie down, all of you, at once. There will be a sentry with a musket outside, and you can guess what his orders are.”

The man strode out; the door was banged to, there was the noise of a big bar being thrown across and the rattling of a padlock, followed by the clink of fetters as their wearers lay down in the heap of sweet-smelling corn-stalks and leaves; and for a few moments no one spoke.

Nic had sunk down in the darkness, glad to be in a restful posture, and began to wonder whether Humpy Dee had been carried in by the blacks, for he had been one of the first to leave the boat, and had seen hardly anything by the light of the lanthorns.

“Poor wretch!” he sighed. “I hope he is not dead.”

Just then one of the other men said, in the broad Devon burr:

“Zay, lads, bean’t they going to give uz zum’at to eat?”

“Brakfus-time,” said another. “Zay, Humpy, how is it with ye? Not thuzty, are you? Oughtn’t to be, after all that water.”

“I’m going to make zumun pay for all this,” came in the man’s familiar growl. “Why didn’t you get hold o’ me and pull me in? Zet o’ vools. Had your chance; and we might ha’ got away.”

“Why, it was all your fault,” said another. “We was waitin’ for you. What did you go and stop zo long under water for?”

“Did I?” said Humpy confusedly.

“Course you did. We was too good mates to go and leave you behind.”

There was a heavy bang at the door, as if from the butt of a musket, and the dogs leaped up and began to growl.

“Lie down, boys,” cried a thick voice, the words sounding as if spoken through a big keyhole. “An’ I say, you chaps, look heah; de massa say you make a row in dah I got to shoot.”

“All right, blackie,” said one of the prisoners; “don’t shoot. Good-night, boys. I’m going to sleep.”

Just at that moment Nic started, for there was a snuffling noise close to him, the leaves rustled, and he felt the hot breath of one of the dogs on his face.

But it was a friendly visit, for the great brute turned round two or three times to trample down the dense bed of leaves, and settled itself into a comfortable curve, with its big head upon the poor fellow’s chest, making Nic wonder whether it was the dog which had been friendly before.

He risked it: raising his hand, he laid it gently between the animal’s soft ears, and there was a low muttering sound that was a big sigh of satisfaction, not a growl; and Nic felt as if the companionship of the dog was pleasant in his terrible loneliness and despair. It was warm and soothing, too, and seemed like the beginning of something hopeful—he knew not what. Then he began to think of home, and a sensation of prayerful thankfulness came over him as he felt that his head was growing clearer. The next minute all trouble, pain, and weariness were forgotten in a deep and dreamless sleep.

Chapter Twenty Two.Reaching the Plantation.A deep growl and a loud burst of barking roused Nic Revel from his deep sleep, free from fever, calm and refreshed, to lie listening to the dogs, wondering what it all meant.The sun was up, and horizontal rays were streaming in between ill-fitting boards and holes from which knots had fallen consequent upon the shrinking of the wood. There was a feeling of cool freshness in the air, too, that was exhilarating; but for a few moments Nic could not make out where he was.Then the slight confusion passed away, as he heard the rustling of leaves, and turned to see his companions stirring and yawning, while at the same moment a dog’s great head was butted at him as if its owner were a playful sheep, and it then drew back, swinging its tail slowly from side to side.The next minute the heavy bar was swung down, the great padlock rattled, and the door was drawn open, to let in a flood of light, followed by the two blacks who had fitted on the irons, but who now bore a huge loaf of bread and a pitcher of water; while two more blacks, each shouldering a musket, closed in behind them, to stand as if framed in the doorway.“Heah, jump up,” cried the big smith. “Make has’e; eat your brakfas’ ’fore you go to de boat.”As he spoke he turned an empty barrel with its head upward, banged the loaf down upon it, drew a knife from its sheath in his belt, and counted the prisoners over with the point of the blade. He then drew a few imaginary lines upon the top of the loaf, paused to rub his woolly head with the haft, looking puzzled and as if cutting the loaf into as many pieces as there were prisoners bothered him, and ended by making a dash at his task.He cut the loaf in half, then divided it into quarters, and went on working hard as he made these eighths, and finally sixteenths.By this time the top of the barrel was covered.“Now, den, ’tan’ in a row,” he cried importantly.The men scowled, but they were hungry, and obeyed, the black sticking the point of his knife into the chunks he had cut, and handing a piece to each in turn, beginning with Humpy Dee, who did not seem any the worse for his immersion, and ending with Nic.After this he began again with Humpy, went down the line again, and had begun for the third time when it suddenly struck him that there would not be enough to go round, and he snatched the piece back.Humpy Dee uttered a furious growl, and made a step forward to recover it; but the big black presented the point of the knife at him and shouted:“Ah, what dat? You back, sah, ’fore set de dog at you.”Humpy growled like one of the beasts, and resumed his place in the line, and the black went on calmly dividing the remaining pieces, distributed them, and called up the dogs to catch what remained.The water was then passed round, the blacks went off leaving the sentries in position, and the prisoners sat amongst the Indian-corn leaves, to eat their breakfast ravenously enough.Before they had finished, the barking of the dogs announced the coming of the overseer, who came in, whip in hand, to run his eye over his prisoners, nodding his satisfaction as he saw that he was not going back minus any of them, and went out again.Then, as Nic sat eating the remainder of his bread, the entry was darkened a little, and he saw a couple of women peer in—one a middle-aged, comely body, the other a young girl.There was a pitying expression upon their faces; and, obeying a sudden impulse, Nic stood up to go to speak to them, for it seemed to him that his chance had come. But at his first movement Humpy Dee leaped up, with his fetters clinking, to intercept him, a sour look upon his face, and the frightened women ran away.“No, you don’t,” growled Humpy; “not if I knows it, m’lad.”“You, sah—you go back and eat your brakfas’, sah,” came from the door; and Humpy turned sharply, to see that their guards were standing, each with his musket steadied against a doorpost, taking aim at him and Nic.“Yah, you old pot and kettle,” cried Humpy scornfully; “you couldn’t hit a haystack;” but he went back to his place and sat down, Nic giving up with a sigh and following his example.Half-an-hour after the overseer was back with the dogs, the order was given, and the prisoners marched out, to find the blacks waiting. Nic saw now that there was a roomy log-house, fenced round with a patch of garden; and in a group by the rough pine-wood porch a burly-looking man was standing with the two women; and half-a-dozen black slaves were at the far end of the place, each shouldering a big clumsy hoe, and watching, evidently with the greatest interest, the prisoners on their way to the boat.In his hasty glance round, Nic could see that the farm was newly won from the wilderness, and encumbered with the stumps of the great trees which had been felled, some to be used as logs, others to be cut up into planks; but the place had a rough beauty of its own, while the wistful glances that fell upon him from the occupants of the porch sent a thrill through his breast, and raised a hope that if ever he came that way he might find help.But his heart sank again as his eyes wandered to the black labourers, and then to a couple of huge dogs similar to those which followed behind with the overseer; for he knew that he was among slave-owners, and in his despondency he could not help asking himself what chance he would have, an escaped prisoner, if he tried to get away.He had little time for thought, but he took in the surroundings of the place quickly, noting that the house and out-buildings stood well raised upon a mound, round one side of which the creek they had turned into ran; while through the trees some little distance away there was the river, and across it the forest, rising from the farther bank, not black and forbidding now, but beautiful in the early morning sunshine.The overseer shouted a hearty good-bye to the people by the porch, and there was a friendly reply, as they marched on to where the boat lay fastened to a stump; the dogs sprang in to retake their places, barking their farewell to the others which trotted down to look on; a big basket of provisions was next put on board by the smith and his assistant, and then the prisoners were sent forward to their old places, Pete glancing once at Nic, whose eyes were wandering here and there; but Nic avoided the glance.“Now you, sir,” cried the overseer; “don’t stand staring about. In with you.”Nic obeyed as soon as there was room, and the overseer took his place astern.A minute later they were being poled along the creek, which was here and there overarched by the spreading boughs of the trees, and soon after they were out in the main stream, with the blacks rowing steadily in water which seemed to be very slack; the little settlement was seen as a bright spot for a few minutes, and then disappeared behind the trees, which began upon the left bank, and became once more a great green wall to shut out everything else.And then hour after hour the boat was rowed onward, the river winding far less than on the previous evening, and seeming to form a highroad into the interior, upon which they were the only travellers. It varied little in its width at first, but towards afternoon Nic noted that it was beginning to narrow considerably; but it ran always through forest. As thoughts of escape would intrude, and the poor fellow scanned the banks, he quickly grasped the fact that if an attempt were made it must be by the river, for the forest on either side seemed to be impassable, and how far it ran inland was impossible to say.A change was made every hour or so, the prisoners taking their turn with the oars; and before the morning was far advanced the overseer ordered Nic into one of the places, watching him intently as he obeyed and fell into stroke at once, rowing hard for a few minutes in the hot sunshine without a murmur. Then all at once the trees on the bank began to sail round, the oar slipped from his hand, and he fell backward into Pete’s arms.When he opened his eyes again he was sitting forward in the bottom of the boat, with one of the blacks supporting him and splashing water from over the side in his face, while the overseer stood looking down grimly.“You needn’t take another turn,” he said gruffly; “I wanted to see whether you could do your share.”The rest of the day Nic sat watching their progress, a good deal of it through the gloomy shades of a great swamp, through which the river ran at times almost in twilight, the faint current being marked by the difference in colour and the freedom from the vegetation which marked the waters of the great lagoon spreading away to right and left among the trees, which grew and fell and rotted as far as eye could penetrate.The vegetation, was rich, but it seemed to be that of a dying forest which had been inundated by the stream, for bank there was none. Huge cypresses stood out at every angle, many having fallen as far as they could, but only to be supported by their fellows. And as the boat went swiftly on in obedience to the sturdily-tugged oars, Nic forgot his troubles in wonder at the strangeness of the scene through which he passed, for it was dreary, horrible, and beautiful all in one. Rotting vegetation supplied the rich, muddy soil from which rose vine and creeper to climb far on high, and then, finding no further support, throw themselves into the air, to hang and swing where the bright sunshine penetrated. Wherever it was shadowy the trees were draped with hanging curtains of moss; while all around Nic looked down vistas of light and shade, whose atmosphere was now golden, now of a score of different delicious greens.There was something so new and strange about the swamp that it had a fascination for Nic, and he was leaning over the bows, resting his chin upon his hand, when he had his first glance at one of its inhabitants; for, as the boat was being steered past a moss-covered, rotting stump, the gnarled wood suddenly seemed to become animated, a portion of it rising a little and then gliding away with a heavy splash into the water.Before he could realise what it was, there was another movement just beyond, and this time he made out plainly enough the gaping mouth, prominent eyes, and rugged back of a great alligator, followed by its waving tail, as it dived down from a cluster of tree-roots out of sight.After this the reptiles became common enough, for the swamp swarmed with them, and Nic realised that it might be a strangely-perilous task to make his way through the forest unless provided with a boat.The men whispered to themselves as the reptiles scuttled about in their eagerness to escape, and shook their heads; and as Nic turned from observing them to gaze aft he became conscious of the fact that the overseer was watching them with a grim smile upon his lips, reading their thoughts respecting the dangers of an attempt to escape.The dogs were evidently familiar with the sight of the reptiles, rarely paying any heed to them save when the boat approached quietly and aroused a sleeper, which in its surprise raised its great jaws menacingly, when one of the dogs would set up the hair about its neck, growl, and make a savage snap at the reptile; and after a while the prisoners grew in turn accustomed to the loathsome-looking creatures.“But we might seize the boat,” thought Nic, “in the case of no help coming;” and he sat there more and more grasping the fact that after all he might be forced to depend upon the aid and companionship of those around him, and be compelled to master the dislike and repulsion which they inspired.Another stoppage at a woodland farm for the night, and then on again for a fresh day’s toil as monotonous as the last.At the different changes made, the rowers left their oars dripping with perspiration, for the swamp seemed breathless and the heat intense; but towards evening a faint breeze sprang up, and instead of its growing darker there was a lightening in the appearance of the place; the setting sun sent a red glow among the trees, and then they passed out of the forest into a lovely, dreamy, open country, stretching for miles and miles towards where a range of hills ran right across their course, beyond which, pale orange by the fading light, another range of greater height appeared. Soon after they passed the mouth of a clear stream, and at the end of another mile the boat was turned suddenly off to their right into a little river of the clearest water, which ran meandering through a lightly-wooded slope rising towards the hills; and as Nic was gazing at the fairy-like scene, whose atmospheric effects seemed, even in his despondent state, far more beautiful than anything he had ever seen at home, the boat swept round a curve whose banks were thickly set with trees, and once more there was a human habitation in sight, in the shape of a well-built, farm-like house upon a knoll, and the agitation amongst the dogs warned the prisoners that here was their resting-place for the night.The next minute, as the dogs were barking, the boat was steered close inshore, and the brutes bounded over into the shallow water, to scramble up the bank, and set off as fast as they could go towards the house, from which figures could be seen issuing; and at last, as Nic scanned the signs of cultivation around, the growing crops roughly fenced, and the out-buildings, the thought struck him that this might be their destination.While he was wondering whether this were so, the boat was run into a little creek only big enough to let it pass for about a couple of hundred yards before it grounded where a track came down to some posts; and as the boat was secured to one of these the overseer sprang ashore to meet a tall, sun-browned, grey-haired man, whose keen eyes were directed towards the bows of the boat.“Back again, then, Saunders!” he said sharply. “Well, what sort of a lot do they seem?”“Rough, but strong,” replied the overseer; “all but one young fellow who has been knocked about, but he seems as if he’ll soon come round.”“Like so many horses or bullocks,” said Nic to himself bitterly, “and I am the one with broken knees.”

A deep growl and a loud burst of barking roused Nic Revel from his deep sleep, free from fever, calm and refreshed, to lie listening to the dogs, wondering what it all meant.

The sun was up, and horizontal rays were streaming in between ill-fitting boards and holes from which knots had fallen consequent upon the shrinking of the wood. There was a feeling of cool freshness in the air, too, that was exhilarating; but for a few moments Nic could not make out where he was.

Then the slight confusion passed away, as he heard the rustling of leaves, and turned to see his companions stirring and yawning, while at the same moment a dog’s great head was butted at him as if its owner were a playful sheep, and it then drew back, swinging its tail slowly from side to side.

The next minute the heavy bar was swung down, the great padlock rattled, and the door was drawn open, to let in a flood of light, followed by the two blacks who had fitted on the irons, but who now bore a huge loaf of bread and a pitcher of water; while two more blacks, each shouldering a musket, closed in behind them, to stand as if framed in the doorway.

“Heah, jump up,” cried the big smith. “Make has’e; eat your brakfas’ ’fore you go to de boat.”

As he spoke he turned an empty barrel with its head upward, banged the loaf down upon it, drew a knife from its sheath in his belt, and counted the prisoners over with the point of the blade. He then drew a few imaginary lines upon the top of the loaf, paused to rub his woolly head with the haft, looking puzzled and as if cutting the loaf into as many pieces as there were prisoners bothered him, and ended by making a dash at his task.

He cut the loaf in half, then divided it into quarters, and went on working hard as he made these eighths, and finally sixteenths.

By this time the top of the barrel was covered.

“Now, den, ’tan’ in a row,” he cried importantly.

The men scowled, but they were hungry, and obeyed, the black sticking the point of his knife into the chunks he had cut, and handing a piece to each in turn, beginning with Humpy Dee, who did not seem any the worse for his immersion, and ending with Nic.

After this he began again with Humpy, went down the line again, and had begun for the third time when it suddenly struck him that there would not be enough to go round, and he snatched the piece back.

Humpy Dee uttered a furious growl, and made a step forward to recover it; but the big black presented the point of the knife at him and shouted:

“Ah, what dat? You back, sah, ’fore set de dog at you.”

Humpy growled like one of the beasts, and resumed his place in the line, and the black went on calmly dividing the remaining pieces, distributed them, and called up the dogs to catch what remained.

The water was then passed round, the blacks went off leaving the sentries in position, and the prisoners sat amongst the Indian-corn leaves, to eat their breakfast ravenously enough.

Before they had finished, the barking of the dogs announced the coming of the overseer, who came in, whip in hand, to run his eye over his prisoners, nodding his satisfaction as he saw that he was not going back minus any of them, and went out again.

Then, as Nic sat eating the remainder of his bread, the entry was darkened a little, and he saw a couple of women peer in—one a middle-aged, comely body, the other a young girl.

There was a pitying expression upon their faces; and, obeying a sudden impulse, Nic stood up to go to speak to them, for it seemed to him that his chance had come. But at his first movement Humpy Dee leaped up, with his fetters clinking, to intercept him, a sour look upon his face, and the frightened women ran away.

“No, you don’t,” growled Humpy; “not if I knows it, m’lad.”

“You, sah—you go back and eat your brakfas’, sah,” came from the door; and Humpy turned sharply, to see that their guards were standing, each with his musket steadied against a doorpost, taking aim at him and Nic.

“Yah, you old pot and kettle,” cried Humpy scornfully; “you couldn’t hit a haystack;” but he went back to his place and sat down, Nic giving up with a sigh and following his example.

Half-an-hour after the overseer was back with the dogs, the order was given, and the prisoners marched out, to find the blacks waiting. Nic saw now that there was a roomy log-house, fenced round with a patch of garden; and in a group by the rough pine-wood porch a burly-looking man was standing with the two women; and half-a-dozen black slaves were at the far end of the place, each shouldering a big clumsy hoe, and watching, evidently with the greatest interest, the prisoners on their way to the boat.

In his hasty glance round, Nic could see that the farm was newly won from the wilderness, and encumbered with the stumps of the great trees which had been felled, some to be used as logs, others to be cut up into planks; but the place had a rough beauty of its own, while the wistful glances that fell upon him from the occupants of the porch sent a thrill through his breast, and raised a hope that if ever he came that way he might find help.

But his heart sank again as his eyes wandered to the black labourers, and then to a couple of huge dogs similar to those which followed behind with the overseer; for he knew that he was among slave-owners, and in his despondency he could not help asking himself what chance he would have, an escaped prisoner, if he tried to get away.

He had little time for thought, but he took in the surroundings of the place quickly, noting that the house and out-buildings stood well raised upon a mound, round one side of which the creek they had turned into ran; while through the trees some little distance away there was the river, and across it the forest, rising from the farther bank, not black and forbidding now, but beautiful in the early morning sunshine.

The overseer shouted a hearty good-bye to the people by the porch, and there was a friendly reply, as they marched on to where the boat lay fastened to a stump; the dogs sprang in to retake their places, barking their farewell to the others which trotted down to look on; a big basket of provisions was next put on board by the smith and his assistant, and then the prisoners were sent forward to their old places, Pete glancing once at Nic, whose eyes were wandering here and there; but Nic avoided the glance.

“Now you, sir,” cried the overseer; “don’t stand staring about. In with you.”

Nic obeyed as soon as there was room, and the overseer took his place astern.

A minute later they were being poled along the creek, which was here and there overarched by the spreading boughs of the trees, and soon after they were out in the main stream, with the blacks rowing steadily in water which seemed to be very slack; the little settlement was seen as a bright spot for a few minutes, and then disappeared behind the trees, which began upon the left bank, and became once more a great green wall to shut out everything else.

And then hour after hour the boat was rowed onward, the river winding far less than on the previous evening, and seeming to form a highroad into the interior, upon which they were the only travellers. It varied little in its width at first, but towards afternoon Nic noted that it was beginning to narrow considerably; but it ran always through forest. As thoughts of escape would intrude, and the poor fellow scanned the banks, he quickly grasped the fact that if an attempt were made it must be by the river, for the forest on either side seemed to be impassable, and how far it ran inland was impossible to say.

A change was made every hour or so, the prisoners taking their turn with the oars; and before the morning was far advanced the overseer ordered Nic into one of the places, watching him intently as he obeyed and fell into stroke at once, rowing hard for a few minutes in the hot sunshine without a murmur. Then all at once the trees on the bank began to sail round, the oar slipped from his hand, and he fell backward into Pete’s arms.

When he opened his eyes again he was sitting forward in the bottom of the boat, with one of the blacks supporting him and splashing water from over the side in his face, while the overseer stood looking down grimly.

“You needn’t take another turn,” he said gruffly; “I wanted to see whether you could do your share.”

The rest of the day Nic sat watching their progress, a good deal of it through the gloomy shades of a great swamp, through which the river ran at times almost in twilight, the faint current being marked by the difference in colour and the freedom from the vegetation which marked the waters of the great lagoon spreading away to right and left among the trees, which grew and fell and rotted as far as eye could penetrate.

The vegetation, was rich, but it seemed to be that of a dying forest which had been inundated by the stream, for bank there was none. Huge cypresses stood out at every angle, many having fallen as far as they could, but only to be supported by their fellows. And as the boat went swiftly on in obedience to the sturdily-tugged oars, Nic forgot his troubles in wonder at the strangeness of the scene through which he passed, for it was dreary, horrible, and beautiful all in one. Rotting vegetation supplied the rich, muddy soil from which rose vine and creeper to climb far on high, and then, finding no further support, throw themselves into the air, to hang and swing where the bright sunshine penetrated. Wherever it was shadowy the trees were draped with hanging curtains of moss; while all around Nic looked down vistas of light and shade, whose atmosphere was now golden, now of a score of different delicious greens.

There was something so new and strange about the swamp that it had a fascination for Nic, and he was leaning over the bows, resting his chin upon his hand, when he had his first glance at one of its inhabitants; for, as the boat was being steered past a moss-covered, rotting stump, the gnarled wood suddenly seemed to become animated, a portion of it rising a little and then gliding away with a heavy splash into the water.

Before he could realise what it was, there was another movement just beyond, and this time he made out plainly enough the gaping mouth, prominent eyes, and rugged back of a great alligator, followed by its waving tail, as it dived down from a cluster of tree-roots out of sight.

After this the reptiles became common enough, for the swamp swarmed with them, and Nic realised that it might be a strangely-perilous task to make his way through the forest unless provided with a boat.

The men whispered to themselves as the reptiles scuttled about in their eagerness to escape, and shook their heads; and as Nic turned from observing them to gaze aft he became conscious of the fact that the overseer was watching them with a grim smile upon his lips, reading their thoughts respecting the dangers of an attempt to escape.

The dogs were evidently familiar with the sight of the reptiles, rarely paying any heed to them save when the boat approached quietly and aroused a sleeper, which in its surprise raised its great jaws menacingly, when one of the dogs would set up the hair about its neck, growl, and make a savage snap at the reptile; and after a while the prisoners grew in turn accustomed to the loathsome-looking creatures.

“But we might seize the boat,” thought Nic, “in the case of no help coming;” and he sat there more and more grasping the fact that after all he might be forced to depend upon the aid and companionship of those around him, and be compelled to master the dislike and repulsion which they inspired.

Another stoppage at a woodland farm for the night, and then on again for a fresh day’s toil as monotonous as the last.

At the different changes made, the rowers left their oars dripping with perspiration, for the swamp seemed breathless and the heat intense; but towards evening a faint breeze sprang up, and instead of its growing darker there was a lightening in the appearance of the place; the setting sun sent a red glow among the trees, and then they passed out of the forest into a lovely, dreamy, open country, stretching for miles and miles towards where a range of hills ran right across their course, beyond which, pale orange by the fading light, another range of greater height appeared. Soon after they passed the mouth of a clear stream, and at the end of another mile the boat was turned suddenly off to their right into a little river of the clearest water, which ran meandering through a lightly-wooded slope rising towards the hills; and as Nic was gazing at the fairy-like scene, whose atmospheric effects seemed, even in his despondent state, far more beautiful than anything he had ever seen at home, the boat swept round a curve whose banks were thickly set with trees, and once more there was a human habitation in sight, in the shape of a well-built, farm-like house upon a knoll, and the agitation amongst the dogs warned the prisoners that here was their resting-place for the night.

The next minute, as the dogs were barking, the boat was steered close inshore, and the brutes bounded over into the shallow water, to scramble up the bank, and set off as fast as they could go towards the house, from which figures could be seen issuing; and at last, as Nic scanned the signs of cultivation around, the growing crops roughly fenced, and the out-buildings, the thought struck him that this might be their destination.

While he was wondering whether this were so, the boat was run into a little creek only big enough to let it pass for about a couple of hundred yards before it grounded where a track came down to some posts; and as the boat was secured to one of these the overseer sprang ashore to meet a tall, sun-browned, grey-haired man, whose keen eyes were directed towards the bows of the boat.

“Back again, then, Saunders!” he said sharply. “Well, what sort of a lot do they seem?”

“Rough, but strong,” replied the overseer; “all but one young fellow who has been knocked about, but he seems as if he’ll soon come round.”

“Like so many horses or bullocks,” said Nic to himself bitterly, “and I am the one with broken knees.”

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