Part 17 (1/2)
FANCY AND FATIGUE--TOIL AND PRIVATION--WE LAND--DANGER OF LIGHTING A FIRE--A HASTY MEAL INTERRUPTED--ALARM OF INDIANS--MAKING DOWN THE STREAM--WHITE MEN--A WELCOME MEETING--STARTLING INTELLIGENCE--OBJECT OF THE EXPEDITION--SUSPICION AGAINST ROCHFORD--JUDGE SHURTLEFF'S OPINION-- LANDING--PREPARING TO ADVANCE--TIM RECEIVES AN APPOINTMENT--THE MARCH COMMENCED--USEFUL ALLIES--A TRYING JOURNEY--OUR FIRST HALT--THE HUNTING PARTY--A STRANGE MEETING--”SPOTTED WOLF”--MOVEMENTS OF THE INDIANS-- ANXIETY ABOUT MY FATHER--DOUBTS ABOUT OUR INDIAN FRIEND--A NARROW ESCAPE--STABBED IN THE HUMMOCK.
I had been paddling on for some time in a half dreamy state, for fatigue was beginning to tell on me more than on Tim, and I could with difficulty at times keep my eyes open. Though I managed to move my paddle mechanically, I was more asleep than awake. All sorts of strange fancies flitted across my mind, and often I saw objects before me which had no existence in reality. Now a party of Indians, in their war-paint and feathers, would appear on the bank, a bright light making them stand out in bold relief against the forest. Now in imagination I saw a huge snake wriggling across the water; or a puma would show itself among the trees, ready to spring upon us as we pa.s.sed. Often I heard strange cries and the sound of human voices; then I fancied that I saw a canoe stealing out from a dark creek, about to intercept us. I tried to exert myself, but my arms refused to obey my will.
”Arrah now, Mr. Maurice dear, you'd better lie down in the bottom of the boat an' take a quiet sleep for an hour or two,” exclaimed Tim, who discovered the condition I was in just in time to prevent me letting go my paddle, which the next instant would probably have fallen from my grasp.
His voice aroused me. ”I can still paddle on,” I answered; ”though my arms ache a little, to be sure.”
”No, no; just lie down, an' I'll keep the canoe moving,” said Tim.
”I've been more accustomed to work than you have, Mr. Maurice, and I can stand it better. You'll be afther knockin' yourself up altogether; an'
we have many a mile to go yet before we reach Castle Kearney.”
I felt, however, that it was food more than rest which I just then wanted. The pangs of hunger I was enduring convinced me of this. We had, however, only our live fowls remaining, with a few oranges and some grain; but the fowls could not be eaten raw, and the grain required to be pounded and made into cakes before we could swallow it. I therefore proposed that we should land on the first spot we could find clear of trees and brushwood, and cook one of the fowls and make some cakes. To this Tim agreed. Before long, projecting from below the trunk of a large tree, we discovered a bank composed of roots and driftwood, with mud washed over them. There was s.p.a.ce enough to light a fire, so we at once landed. While I was engaged in collecting sticks for the fire, Tim wrung the neck of one of our fowls and quickly plucked it. He then cut the bird in two and stuck it up before the fire, as the quickest way of cooking it. We could not afford to be particular. Instead of making cakes, we put on some of the grain to boil in our pot, for we could not stop to bruise and bake it. We were aware that it was imprudent even to light a fire, lest it might attract the notice of any enemies prowling in the neighbourhood; but our hunger overcame all other considerations, and we hoped that as we should soon again be moving on there would be no great risk in what we were doing. I own that I ravenously ate up my share of the fowl, even before it was cooked through; but having been put on while still warm, it was less tough than might have been expected. The boiled grain was far from palatable.
”Sure it will do to fill up any holes which the old hen has left in our stomachs, and I have a notion there are not a few of them,” observed Tim, as he began to bolt down the hot porridge.
We were thus employed, when Tim exclaimed, ”Hist, Mr. Maurice, did you hear a sound?”
I listened. ”Yes; I should fancy that an alligator had popped his head above the surface, or a tortoise or wild-fowl had jumped into the river to take a bath.”
”Sure I thought it was paddles I heard. Listen again,” said Tim.
”Yes, it is paddles; no doubt about the matter,” he exclaimed directly afterwards; and stepping into the canoe he cast off the painter, while he held her fast to some roots with one hand, adding, ”Get in, Mr.
Maurice, get in; the sooner we are away from this the better. The Redskins--for sure it must be them--will make towards the fire, and, if they haven't yet seen us, they'll be puzzled to know where we have gone to.”
Seizing my gun, which lay on the ground by my side, for from force of habit I had carried it with me when I had landed, I stepped carefully back into the canoe. Immediately I had taken my seat, Tim shoved her off as far out into the stream as he could, then grasping his paddle, began to ply it with might and main.
”Stop!” I whispered, after we had got a little distance. ”In what direction did you fancy you heard the sounds? It appears to me that they are coming up the river instead of down.”
”Sure, you're right, Mr. Maurice,” answered Tim, who had ceased paddling. ”I see the canoe too, an' a big one she is; she's full of savages. We may get over to the shadow of the opposite bank, an'
they'll not perceive us. Use the paddle gently though, so as to make as little noise as possible.”
While working away as he advised, I kept my eye down the stream, looking out for the canoe, which Tim fancied he had seen. Before long I also perceived it; indeed, it looked so high out of the water that I was convinced it was of much larger size than the ordinary Indian canoes.
It was being directed towards the fire which we had left only a few minutes before; those on board being naturally anxious to see who were encamped there.
We had got over by this time to the opposite sh.o.r.e, and, as far as I could judge, had escaped observation; so that we could easily, by keeping under the shadow of the trees, paddle down the stream. But as I again looked towards the boat, I was convinced that she was of large size, and full of white men.
Remaining perfectly quiet, before long we heard their voices. There was no doubt that they were whites; perhaps our friends coming to look for us. Tim was at length satisfied that I was right. We forthwith paddled back. To prevent any one mistaking us for Indians, and sending a chance shot at us, I hailed, ”Who are you, friends?”
”Why, that must be Maurice! Hurrah! he's not lost, then,” I heard a voice exclaim, which I recognised as that of Carlos; and directly afterwards Lejoillie shouted out--
”Glad to see you alive. Come here!”
We were soon alongside; and Tim making the canoe fast, he and I stepped on board the boat. We found that she was a long, large craft pulling ten oars, and holding between thirty and forty men, all well-armed.
Among them were three blacks, two of whom I had seen at the judge's; and I remembered the intense admiration they had shown for Rochford, when in their presence he had expressed his liberal opinions, such as they were very unlikely ever before to have heard.
The first person who grasped my hand was my father.
”Maurice, my boy, thank Heaven you have come back,” he said. ”I was very anxious about you, as were all your friends; for we were afraid that you had fallen into the hands of those rascally Redskins, and that they had treated you and Tim as they have so many other white people.”
I briefly told him how I had lost my way, and was found by Tim; how we had at length reached the river, and obtaining a canoe, got down thus far homewards. I mentioned also our having seen an Indian, who had pursued us along the bank for some distance. I then, turning to Lejoillie and Carlos, inquired how they had made their escape.