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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

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

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

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

"Coming to, Master George?" said Morgan.

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

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

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

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

"Don't do dat."

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

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

He looked round wildly.

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

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

"Are you better?"

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

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

"Go kill all de Injum."

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

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

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

"What matter wif yo' arm?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Pomp quite well 'gain."

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

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

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

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

"Eh?"

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

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

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

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

"But poor Pomp so dreffle hungly."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh!"

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

"No, Mass' George."

"Then why did you say that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was a loud murmur here.

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

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

There was a chorus of approval here.

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

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

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

"No, father; I have escaped."

"But the Indians; you have seen them?"

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



CHAPTER FORTY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And you have too?"

"Not taken, but nearly killed."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fight? Did he have to fight?"

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

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

"He didn't. I led him."

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

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

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

"No; burnt down."

"Burnt! What, our house?"

"Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"They did," I said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pomp sighed.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Poor Pomp can't."

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

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

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

"Why, what's the matter, Pomp?"

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

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

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

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

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

"I—heard?"

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

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

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

"Yes! Well?" I said.

"The dead Indians were gone."

I started at the news.

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

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

"Marks?" I said.

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

The thought of all this made the evening look gloomy and strange, though it was a glorious sunset, for the clouds that gathered in the west were to me like the smoke of burning houses touched with fire, and the deep rich red glow like blood. And as I watched the changes, it seemed that the softened reflections had turned into one fierce fiery glow that told of the destruction of the fort and the houses of the settlement, till, as it all died out, the light growing paler and paler, there was nothing at last but the cold grey ashes to tell of where the houses had been.



CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

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

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

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

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

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

"Afraid?" he said, with a smile.

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

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

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

He laughed as he pressed my shoulder with his hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"With arrows flying, perhaps."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You, Morgan?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, I am looking."

"Well, what can you see?"

"A house."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nonsense, sir! Look again."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hist! Here we are."

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

"House," replied the boy, shortly.

"Well, what else?"

"Lot man coming and going way 'gain."

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

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

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

"But you must."

"Pomp go back—go 'leep."

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

"Mass' George want Pomp look?"

"Yes, yes."

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

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

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

"Lot men. All black dark."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then tell me," I whispered.

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

"Dem Injum!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes; gone dat big house."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How?" cried the colonel.

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

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

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

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

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

"What did I say?"

"That we should know how to die."

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



CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pomp stopped short and gave a loud sniff.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Buzz—oooz—oooz!

"Bother the flies!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Buzz—buzz! buzz—buzz!

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

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

At last in utter despair I rose, pulled off my loose coat so as only to retain shirt and breeches, bathed my face in a bucket just outside, and could not resist the temptation to sprinkle a few drops on Pomp's face as he lay there fast asleep in the shade. But they had not the slightest effect, and I crept into our rough tent again, smoothed the blanket, and lay down and closed my eyes once more, while the two flies were joined by another, and the buzzing was louder than ever.

"Go on," I said; "I don't care. One can't go to sleep in the daytime, but one can rest one's legs;" and as I said this pettishly I knew it was not true, for Pomp's heavy breathing came plainly through the canvas to prove how thoroughly I was in the wrong.

So giving up all idea of going to sleep, I lay there on my back, looking up at the fabric of the canvas, through which every now and then there was a faint ray of sunshine so fine that a needle-point would have been large in comparison. Then I began to think about my father, and what a deal of care and anxiety he seemed to have; how sad he generally was; and I set his grave manner down to the real cause—my mother's death.

Then I began to think of how hot it was, and that as near as I could guess it must be two hours after noon. Then about how pleasant it would be to begin rebuilding our house, and how long it would take, and about Hannibal and Pomp, and what a gentleman the former seemed to be by nature in his stern, quiet way; always willing to do anything for us, and watching me whenever he saw me, to know if there was anything I wanted; and so big, and strong, and brave.

Then I thought of our terrible experience under the great cypress tree, and at one time it was very horrible, but directly after not at all so.

"It seems very terrible to kill any one, but Han knew that if he did not kill them they would kill us, and I do believe he would sooner be killed himself than let any one hurt either father or me. And what a rum little fellow Pomp is," I thought; "and how he gives up directly Hannibal says anything in his language.

"I wonder what his language is! One can't call it black language, because it isn't black—only what black people speak. I wonder whether I could learn it. Seems to be all ing, and ung, and ang, and ng, without any letters before it. I'll make Hannibal teach me to speak like he does. He would if I asked him. S'pose I should have to learn it without books, and one couldn't write it, and—Oh, dear me! How hot, and tired, and thirsty I am!

"I wish Pomp wouldn't buzz so.

"No, I mean I wish the flies wouldn't snore so.

"No; I mean the Indians—the—"

I started up, and looked round confusedly, to see the flies darting here and there, and buzzing more loudly than ever, while Pomp had settled into a decided snore. It was hotter than before, and great drops stood on my face, and tickled as they ran together and made greater drops. The children too were still playing about, and laughing merrily, and I went on thinking that the flies must be teasing Pomp very much, and that those children would laugh and play if the Indians came and buzzed round the tent; and that one which had settled on the canvas just over my head didn't frighten them by swelling out so big, and opening and shutting his great jaws with such a loud snap. What a number of fish he must eat in a day, and how I should have liked to watch him when he beat the water with his tail, so as to stun the fish and make them easy to catch!

"And so that's where you live, is it, my fine fellow? Pomp and I will come with a stick, and thrust it down the hole, and make you bite, and drag you out. We should want a rope ready to put round your neck, and another to tie your jaws, and one of us would have to slip it on pretty quickly before you spread your wings and began to fly round the tent, and began talking in that ridiculous way. Whoever heard of an alligator imitating Morgan, and trying to deceive me like that, just as we were going to catch him on the canvas where it was so tight? Eh! What say? Why don't you bellow? What!—no, I shan't. He is very comfortable here, and—Ah!"

That alligator had crept over into the tent, planted its foot upon my chest, and was moving it heavily, as it said out of the darkness in Morgan's voice—

"Oh, Master George, do wake up, my lad, and come! Be quick, pray!"



CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

Quite dark. My head confused. The alligator's foot on my chest. No; it was the butt-end of a gun pushing me.

"Here! Don't! What's the matter?"

"I thought I should never get you to wake, sir. Come along. The Indians are here."

I sprang out of the tent, with it gradually dawning upon me that I had been sleeping heavily from early afternoon right into the darkness of night, and dreaming away in a heavily confused fashion of the various objects that had just filled my eyes and ears.

"You said the Indians were here?" I said, excitedly.

"Yes, my lad. Look!"

I gazed in the direction pointed out, and saw there was a bustle going on at the block-house, where by a faint blaze men were throwing buckets of water.

"Just caught it in time, sir," continued Morgan. "They mean mischief now."

"Yes, I know. They fired arrows at it blazing."

"How did you know when you were asleep?"

"My father expected they would; I heard him say so."

"Ah, well, they won't do it again. We're going to soak blankets, and lay all over the top."

"Morgan, look—look!" I exclaimed, as three fiery long-tailed stars came swiftly sailing through the air from one direction; and as if they had been sent as a signal, three more came from the opposite quarter, and directly after two more threes, and all fell blazing on different parts of the block-house, the Indians evidently aiming for the spot where the first blaze appeared—that which was rapidly being extinguished as I crept out of our tent.

These fiery arrows had no doubt been prepared with tufts of cotton saturated with some resinous gum, which, after being lighted, burned furiously in its rapid passage through the air, and seemed to resist the efforts of those who were on the roof trying to extinguish the patches of glowing fire. In fact their efforts soon became useless, for the first twelve arrows were followed by dozens more, and then by hundreds, till at one time quite a fiery shower descended on the doomed place; while, emboldened by their success, amidst a fierce yelling, some of the Indians ran from their cover, their progress being marked by tiny specks of light which seemed to glide like fireflies over the fields. Then they made a sudden dart, blazed out, and stuck in the sides of the fort.

This was repeated again and again before sharp orders were rung out, and from that moment whenever one of these sparks was seen gliding along toward the palisades, it was met by shot after shot, sometimes by a regular volley. Twice over as I watched I saw one of these sparks drop to the ground and begin to burn, showing by it the body of an Indian; but though scores of shots were fired, these were the only two which checked the savages, who, encouraged by their success, kept on running in and shooting at the fort.

"Hard to hit a man running with a bullet," said Morgan, in answer to one of my ejaculations of impatience.

"But why are you here, Morgan?" I said, suddenly, as I felt that most of the defenders were either at work firing, or busy with buckets and water.

"Because I was sent here, sir," said Morgan, gruffly.

And though I questioned him, he said no more, but chuckled a little when I made a guess, and said that my father must have sent him to look after me.

The men on the roof of the block-house worked splendidly amidst the fiery shower, though they were checked several times by the horrible missiles taking effect, inflicting wounds and burning the poor fellows' clothing as well; but they returned to their duty as soon as their comrades were passed down below into the fort, and wherever the flames got hold they were extinguished. But that which the falling arrows sent high in air, to drop almost perpendicularly on the fort, failed to do, though shot with wondrous skill, was accomplished by the arrows sent in the ordinary way point-blank against the walls.

I was watching the progress of the attack with Morgan, and we were uttering congratulations about the admirable way in which the men on the roof worked, and how cleverly each fiery messenger was quenched now almost as soon as it fell, when there was a fresh attack.

"Yes; we've done 'em, clever as they are, this time, sir," said Morgan. "I tell you what: if I'd had the management of that affair I'd have had young Pomp up there."

"Where is he?" I said, for I had forgotten all about him.

"'Long of his father carrying water, sir. But as I was saying, I'd have had young Pomp up there with a small bucket as he could handle easy, half full o' water, and set him to catch the arrows as they fell. He's quick as lightning, and I'll be bound to say he'd have caught the arrows one by one in his bucket."

"Look—look!" I cried excitedly.

"Eh? What? Ah!" ejaculated Morgan, as evidently from behind one of the houses, quite invisible in the darkness, we saw quite a little group of specks glide out, and almost simultaneously another group—and there seemed to be about thirty in each—came out from the other side, the two parties joining with almost military precision, and gliding as it were over the fields till quite close in, when there was a perfect blaze of light as a golden cloud of trailing lights was discharged straight at the wooden wall of the fort, and in a few seconds it was wrapped in fire from top to bottom.

A tremendous yell followed this successful discharge, but it was drowned by the rapid firing which succeeded, and as I looked on excitedly, longing to go and assist, and wondering why I had received no orders, I had the satisfaction of seeing figures flitting to and fro before the blazing pine-trunks, and hearing the hiss of the water as bucketful after bucketful was discharged.

"Why, Morgan!" I exclaimed suddenly; "the women and children?"

"Well, sir, they'd be safe enough."

"What, if the fire is not put out?"

"Oh, it'll be put out, my lad. Look, they're battering it now. It aren't so fierce, but they don't happen to be there; the captain spoke to the governor this afternoon."

"To the General?"

"Yes, sir. We're getting to call him the governor now; and the captain told him, I hear, that he was afraid the main attack would be on the block-house, and it was settled to have all the women and children out; and they're all safe behind barricades in the middle there. Yonder, you see."

"See? No," I said; "how can I see through this terrible darkness?"

"Darkness?" said Morgan, in a peculiar tone. "I was just thinking that it was a bit lighter now, and yet they seem to be getting the fire a bit under."

"Yes," I said; "and now the clouds of steam are rising; you can see them quite plainly now. Perhaps they are reflecting the light down upon the building. Oh, look!"

I could hold back no longer, but started off at a run, closely followed by Morgan, so as to get to the other side and see what was going on there.

For I had suddenly grasped the meaning of the light that had puzzled me. It was plain enough now. With their customary cunning, the Indians had fired such a flight of fiery arrows that they had forced our people to combine their forces to put out the blazing side of the block-house, and then combining their own forces, the enemy had sent low down on the opposite side, after creeping close in, a tremendous discharge, which at once took hold, and the flames as I got round were already running up the building, fanned by the wind which seemed to be rising, and there was a fluttering roar which sounded like the triumphant utterances of the flames.

"That comes of using pine-logs," said Morgan, in a low voice, as amidst the shouting of orders, the tramp of men, and the hissing of the fire, volley after volley was fired from the palisades; but naturally these shots sent forth into the darkness were aimless, and in imagination I could see the enemy, after sending in their arrows, crawling away unhurt.

The progress of this last fire was rapid. Something was done to check it at first with the buckets, and the brave fellows on the roof made desperate efforts by hanging the saturated blankets over the side, but they were soon driven back by the heat and smoke; all but one, whom I saw—after working desperately, the leader evidently of the shadowy-looking, blackened band—topple forward and fall into the flames at the foot, just as a herculean black approached, bearing two buckets of water.

Then there was a rush, a deal of confusion and shouting; and as I neared I saw the black coming through the crowd bearing some one on his shoulder.

I needed no telling that the slave, whoever he was, had dashed in and dragged the fallen man away, and, roused to enthusiasm by the daring act, I was approaching the group, when I heard murmurs running from one to the other of the line of men we had approached, men whose duty it had been to pass water from the well to those whose task it was to scatter the fluid on the flames.

"What—what did they say, Morgan?" I whispered.

"Water's give out, sir."

"What! Just as it is needed most?"

"Ay, my lad, that's just when it would be sure to go. They've been too generous with it t'other side."

"But look!" I said; "the fire's getting firmer hold. Can nothing be done?"

"Not that we can do, sir," said Morgan, sadly. "It's got it tight now."

It was too true. Started by the Indians' fiercely-blazing arrows, the pine-logs were beginning to blaze well now, dispiriting those who had worked so bravely before; and, seeing that their attack hail been successful, the Indians ceased now to send in their fiery flights, for moment by moment the flames increased, completely enveloping one corner of the block-house, and displaying such fierce energy that we knew the place was doomed.

And now, not to solve a puzzle that had troubled me, but of course to strike fresh terror into their enemies, the Indians made it plain how they had managed to keep up their supply of fiery shafts. For, all at once, a house standing back in the plantation, on each of the three sides of the fort away from the river front, began to stand out clear in the darkness of the night. One of them was the place from behind which I had seen the two groups of sparks glide out, and in these they had cunningly had parties preparing the fiery arrows ready to start alight for others to discharge.

Yell after yell now arose from a distance as the three houses rapidly began to blaze and add to the lurid glare that was illumining the whole interior of the enclosure, while groups of smoke-blackened men were watching the destruction going on.

"Better seek cover, my lads," cried Colonel Preston. "Get your pieces, and be ready. We can do no more there. It must burn."

The men showed their military training by rapidly getting their piled weapons, and taking their positions behind the barricades which surrounded the temporary quarters of the women and children.

"I don't think they'll attack," said Colonel Preston to the General, who came up now.

"No," he said, calmly. "The men are standing well to their places round the palisades, but I have no fear of an assault to-night. By the way, how is Bruton?"

I heard the words, and my throat seemed to grow dry.

"Bruton? I don't know. Tired out, I suppose."

"What!" said the General; "didn't you know?"

"Nothing; only that we have all been working like slaves to put that fire out."

"Great heavens, Preston, didn't you hear?"

"Hear?" cried the colonel, excitedly; "is he wounded?"

"Not wounded, but badly hurt, I fear. Didn't you see a man fall from the roof right into the flames?"

"Yes, but—"

"It was Bruton."

"Ah!"

I felt as if I should have dropped, but at that moment, as I was trying to get over the horrible feeling of sickness, and to make my way to the place the doctor had been forced to take as his temporary hospital, I felt a thrill of delight run through me, for a voice exclaimed—

"Gentlemen, are you all mad?"

"Bruton!" exclaimed Preston, hoarsely; "then you are not badly hurt?"

"Badly enough," said my father; "but look—look! Of what are you thinking?"

"Thinking?" cried the General. "We can do no more; the place is doomed."

"But are we to be doomed too, man?" cried my father, furiously; and he looked as if he might have had the question he had first asked put to him. For his face was blackened and wild, his long hair burned, and a terrible look of excitement was in his starting eyes.

"Doomed?" exclaimed the General and the colonel in a breath, as the men gathered round.

"Yes; the women—the children. This enclosure will be swept away. Have you forgotten the powder—the magazine?"



CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

There was an involuntary movement amongst those within hearing at this, and for the moment it was as if every one present was about to seek safety in flight, as my father stood pointing wildly toward the blazing fort. Then, recovering himself from the shock of my father's words, the General exclaimed, hoarsely—

"I had forgotten that." And then in his customary firm way, he said, "The reserve supply of ammunition is in the little magazine, men. Twelve volunteers to bring it out."

A deathly silence for a few minutes, only broken by the terrible crackle and roar of the flames; and then my father stepped toward the blazing building.

"I am too much hurt to carry," he said, "but I will lead. Now, my lads, for Old England!"

"Hurray!" shouted Morgan, darting to his side, "and bonny Cymrw."

A great black figure with torn and scorched cotton garments was the next to step forward, and, carried away by a strange feeling of enthusiasm which mastered the horrible dread I felt, I ran to my father's side.

"No, no, no, my boy," he groaned. "Go back!"

"With you, father," I said; and he uttered a sob as he grasped my hand.

"God be with us!" I heard him whisper; and he said no more, but halting and resting wearily on me, as a dozen men now came forward with a cheer, he led the way to the door of the blazing pile.

Twice over I felt my legs tremble beneath me, but the tremor passed away in the excitement, and with the flames seeming to roar more fiercely, as if resenting an attempt to save that which was their prey, we passed from the eye-aching blaze of light through the strong doors into the black darkness of the fort, all reeking with smoke and steam.



CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

I often sit back in my chair pondering about those old days, and thinking about them in a very different way to that in which I looked upon them then. For to be quite frank, though something in me kept tugging me on, and seeming to say to me, "Be a man; go bravely on and support your poor lame, suffering father, who is going to risk his life to save the poor people around!" there was something else which would keep suggesting that I might be killed, and that I should see the bright sunshine no more; that I was bidding farewell to everything; and I know I felt as if I would have given the world to have heard him say, "Go back. It is too dangerous for you."

But he only hesitated a few moments, and then, as I have said, he grasped my shoulder as if glad of my help, and went on into the great dark place.

On thinking over these things, I often tell myself that though my father may not have been a hero—and I don't believe much in heroes myself—I know they do brave deeds sometimes; but I have often found that they have what an American friend from the North—Pennsylvania way—called a great deal of human nature in them, and that sometimes when you come to know them, you find that they are very much like looking-glasses. I do not mean because they pander to your vanity and show you your own face, but because they are all bright and shining and surrounded by gold that is not solid, and have a side, generally kept close to the wall, which is all rough wood, paint, and glue.

Let me see! Where have I got to? Ah, I remember. I said my father may not have been a hero, but he had a great deal of that sterling stuff in him which you find in really sterling people; and in addition, he performed his brave acts in a quiet, unassuming way, so that often enough they passed unnoticed; and when he had finished, he sank back into his perfectly simple life, and never marched about in metaphorical uniform with a drawn sword, and men before him beating drums, and banging cymbals, and blowing trumpets for the people to see, and hear, and say, "Oh, what a brave man!"

Some may think it was not the act of a brave, self-denying man to let his young son go with him into that awful place to try and remove the powder. I am not going to set up as his judge. He thought as a true man thinks, as a soldier, one of the thousands of true men we have had, who, without a word, have set their teeth fast, and marched for their country's sake straight away to where cannons were belching forth their terrible contents, and it has seemed as if the next step they took must be the last.

My father no doubt thought that as he was so weak he must have help, and that it would be better for his son to die helping him to save the lives of hundreds, than to hang back at such a time as that, when we marched straight into the steam and smoke of the burning block-house.

I can remember now that, although overhead the logs were burning and splitting and hissing in the fierce fire, and I knew that almost at any moment the burning timbers might come crashing down upon us, or the fire reach the little magazine of spare powder, the feeling of cowardice gave place to a strange sensation of exaltation, and I stood by my father, supporting him as he gave his orders firmly, the men responding with a cheer, and groping their way boldly to the corner of the building beyond the roughly-made rooms, where the good-sized place, half cellar, half closet, had been formed.

It was quite dark, and the men had to feel their way, while the air we breathed was suffocating, but we had to bear it.

My father, Morgan, and I were the first to reach the place, and there and then seized the cumbrous door which was made on a slope, like a shutter, to slide sidewise, while just above was a small opening leading into a rough room beyond, between the magazine and the outer wall, in which was a sort of port-hole well closed and barred.

"Shall I get through and open that port, sir?" cried Morgan, his voice sounding muffled and hoarse. "It will give us fresh air and light."

"Yes, and perhaps flames and sparks," cried my father. "No, no, down with you and hand out the powder-kegs. Form a line, men, and pass them along to the door."

"Hurrah!" came in muffled tones; and directly after, from somewhere below, Morgan's voice cried—

"Ready there! One!"

"Ready!—right!" cried a man by me, and a quick rustling sound told that the first powder-keg was being passed along.

"Ready!—two!" cried Morgan; and I pictured in my own mind Morgan down in the half cellar, handing out keg after keg, the men working eagerly in the dark, as they passed the kegs along, and a cheer from the outside reaching our ears, as we knew that the dangerous little barrels were being seized and borne to some place of safety. Not that in my own mind I could realise any place of safety in an open enclosure where sparks might be falling from the burning building, and where, if the Indians could only guess what was going on, flaming arrows would soon come raining down.

It was a race with death within there, as I well knew; and as I stood fast with my father's hand clutching my shoulder, and counted the kegs that were handed out, my position, seemed to me the most painful of all. If I had been hard at work I should not have felt it so much, but I was forced to be inert, and the sounds I heard as I stood breathing that suffocating air half maddened me.

Hissing that grew fiercer and fiercer as the fire licked up the moisture, sharp cracking explosions as the logs split, and must, I knew, be sending off bursts of flame and spark, and above all a deep fluttering roar that grew louder and louder till all at once there was a crash, a low crackling, and then, not two yards away from where I stood, a broad opening all glowing fire.

The men nearest to us uttered a yell, and there was the rush of feet, but my father's voice rose clear above all.

"Halt!" he cried; and discipline prevailed, as through the smoke I could now see all that was going on; Morgan still in the magazine, and Hannibal standing ready to take the kegs he passed out, while the men, instead of being in line, had crowded together by the entrance.

"How many more, Morgan?" said my father, calmly, as he backed a little toward the fiery opening at the end where I could feel the fierce glow on my back.

"Three more, sir. Shall we leave them and go?"

"Leave them? Come, my men, you can see what you are doing now. Morgan—Hannibal—the next keg."

It looked to be madness to bring out that keg into a low, earthen-floored room, one end of which was blazing furiously, with great tongues of fire darting toward us. But it was done; for Morgan stooped down and reappeared directly with a keg, which he handed to the great black, who took it quietly as if there was no danger, but only to have it snatched excitedly away by the next man, who passed it along the line.

"Steady, men!" said my father. "Don't make danger by being excited and dropping one of those barrels."

Those moments seemed to me to be hours. The heat was terrific, and the back of my neck was scorching as the second and third kegs were handed out.

"Last," shouted Morgan, with a wild cry of thankfulness.

"Look again," said my father. "Stand fast all."

Morgan dropped down again, and as he did so there was another crash behind us, a shower of sparks were literally shot into the place, and one burning ember fell right into the opening of the magazine, to be followed as Morgan leaped out by a quick sputtering noise, and then the smell of powder. There was a rush for the door, and we four were alone.

"Only a little loose powder lying about," said Morgan, huskily. "That was the last. Look out, Master George—quick!"

The task was done, the place saved from hideous ruin by an explosion; and as the last man rushed from the place, the energy my father had brought to bear was ended, and I had just time, in response to Morgan's warning, to save him from falling as he lurched forward.

But there was other help at hand, and we three bore him out fainting just as a burst of flame, sparks, and burning embers filled the place where we had stood a minute before, and we emerged weak and staggering, bearing my father's insensible form out into the bright light shed by the burning building.

"Bravely done! Bravely done!" we heard on all sides; and then there was a burst of cheering.

But I hardly seemed to hear it, as I was relieved by willing hands from my share in the burden, and I only recollected then finding myself kneeling beside a blanket under the rough canvas of our extemporised tent, waiting until the surgeon had ended, when I panted forth—

"Is—is he very bad?"

"Very, my lad," said the surgeon as he rose, "but not bad enough for you to look like that. Come, cheer up; I won't let him die. We can't spare a man like your father."



CHAPTER FORTY SIX.

Everybody considered it was all over then, as we stood regularly at bay behind our palisades and barricades of boxes, cases, and furniture with which the women and children were surrounded, watching the flames of the great block-house rising higher and higher in the still night air, in a way that to me was awful.

So there we were waiting for the final onslaught, gloomy, weary, and dispirited. The men were chilled, many of them, with the water, and worn out by their efforts, and as I went round from group to group silently, in search of some one I knew to talk to, I could not help seeing that they were beaten, and thinking that the Indians would have an easy task now when they came.

"It's very horrible," I thought; and I went over the past, and dwelt upon the numbers that we must have killed. I knew that there would be no mercy; that the men would all be butchered, and the women and children, if they escaped that fate, would be carried off into a horrible captivity.

Pomp seemed to have disappeared, for though I came upon group after group of black faces whose owners sat about in a stolid indifferent way, as if the affair did not concern them, and they were resting until called upon to work once more, I did not see our boy.

I could not see Colonel Preston, and Morgan had gone away from my side on being summoned by one of the men.

There were plenty of our people about, but all the same I seemed to be alone, and I was wandering along in the fitful glare of the fire, when I saw at last a group of men standing together by a pile of something wet and glistening, over which one man was scattering with his hand some water from a bucket as if to keep the surface wet, and in this man I recognised Morgan.

"What's he doing?" I asked myself; and it was some few moments before I could grasp the truth, and then in a shrinking manner, with sensations similar to those I had felt when I was going into the burning block-house, I slowly advanced toward the group.

Sparks were being hurled high in the air at every fall of beam or timber, and they rushed round and round, as if agitated by a whirlwind, to be carried far away, but every now and then flashes of fire that escaped the whirl floated softly here and there, making it seem horrible to me as I watched them drop slowly to earth, some to be extinguished and disappear just as a great pat of snow will melt away when it touches the moist ground, while others remained alight and burned for a few moments.

"If one did," I said to myself as I approached timidly, for I knew now that I was opposite to the little heap of powder-kegs that had been brought out of the magazine with so much risk, and were lying covered over with canvas and a tarpaulin, whose surface was being kept wet.

"The powder, Morgan?" I said, as I approached, just as the men were talking earnestly together, Morgan standing by and holding his empty bucket.

"Yes, sir; the powder," he replied, turning and giving me a nod before looking back at his companions and saying sadly—

"Then you do mean it, my lads?"

"I do," said one of the men, sternly; "and I think it's what we ought to do."

"Without waiting for orders from our officers?"

"I shouldn't say do it while they can lead us and help us to fight and drive these demons back. I say when all's over and we've got to the last. I mean when the Indians have got in and are butchering us."

"Yes, yes," came in a murmur from one man, "It will be quite right then, and they'll feel it too."

"Yes," said the first, "it wants doing just as they've crowded into the place, and the lad among us left living must swear he'll do it."

"Don't need any swearing," said Morgan, in a low deep voice. "I'm afraid that you're right, my lads, and for one I'll promise to do it when it's all over."

"Do what?" I said in a whisper, though I felt that I did not need telling.

Morgan looked round at the others.

"There's no harm in telling him," he said.

"Not a bit. Tell him."

Morgan coughed as if to clear his throat, and he raised the bucket and threw a few drops from the bottom on the glistening heap.

"You see, Master George," he said, "we're afraid that we're getting close to the time when the Indians will quite get the better of us, and we shall be beaten."

"Englishmen are never beaten," I said, looking round proudly.

"Ah, that's only a bit of brag, Master George," said Morgan, quietly. "That's what we all say, and perhaps we never are in spirit, but our bodies aren't much stronger than other men's bodies, and there are times when the enemy gets too strong for us. I've been beaten many a time, and I've beat many a time. This is one of the times when I've been beat."

"But we are not beaten yet," I said, excitedly. "When the Indians come and attack we shall drive them off."

"If we can, my lad—if we can. Eh, my lads?"

"Yes, yes," came in a loud murmur.

"Don't you be afraid about that. As long as our officers can lead us we shall fight, and some say we shall do our best when we haven't one left to lead us. In plain honest English, Master George, we shall fire as long as we can load; when we can't use our guns we shall use our fists, and when we can't raise an arm we shall kick."

"Yes, I know, I know," I said, excitedly. "But what you are thinking of it so dreadful."

"So's lying down beat out to let savages knock out your brains, my lad; and so we've all made up our minds that when the worst comes to the very worst, it will be an act of kindness to everybody and a big lesson to the Indians to let settlers alone, and perhaps be the means of saving the lives of hundreds of poor creatures in times to come, if one of us—"

"Yes, I know," I half groaned—"sets fire to this powder and blows everything away."

"That's it, Master George, and the right thing too."

"Oh!" I cried, with a shudder.

"Don't take on, my lad," said Morgan, gently. "It's fate, that's what it is. We shan't do it till the place is full of Indians, and they've begun their terrible work; then one touch with a spark and it'll be all over."

"Morgan!" I cried.

"Ay, my lad, it seems very horrid, and I don't want to have it to do; but when we're all half dead, and can't lift a hand, it will be a mercy to every one; and I know if your poor father was here and listening to what we say, he'd think so too."

"But—but—" I faltered, despairingly, "I don't want to die."

"More don't I, my lad," he said, taking my hand; and I saw by the light of the burning building that the tears stood in his eyes. "I'd give anything to live, and go back yonder and work like a man to put everything straight again, and see my trees and plants growing more beautiful every day in God's bright sunshine; but if it aren't to be, Master George, why, it aren't. I haven't been a man who hasn't done his duty."

"No, no," I said; "they've all fought bravely."

"Ay, that they have, and are going to fight bravely to the very end. Why, look at those poor niggers too. See how they've fought, brave lads! No one would have thought they were slaves to see the way they've gone at it, just as if this was their own place, and they'd never been sold and bought. There, my lad, once more, don't you go thinking we're all going to turn cowards, because we're not. Our officers have done their duty by us, and we've tried to do our duty by them; and if it comes to the worst, I say what's been proposed is only doing our duty still; what say you?"

"Ay, ay," came in a chorus; and I could not say a word. I felt choked as I looked round at the enclosure, all lit up by the glow, with black shadows cast here and there by the various piles of cases and the tents, and then I seemed to see beyond the great fence, and the black and pale-faced men, right away through the forest to our own bright home, close to the pleasant river, where all was sunshine, and glorious with bird and flower and tree. It was impossible to believe that I was never to see it all again, never to wander through the forest, never to ride on the stream and pause to watch the brightly-plumaged birds and the glittering insects or the gorgeously-scaled fish gliding through the clear waters, down where I had so often seen them amongst the roots of the overhanging trees.

It all came back like some bright dream—the creeper-covered house, my father seated at his window, about which the flowers bloomed, as he sat and studied some book, Morgan and Hannibal busy in their long fight with the weeds, and a magpie-like patch under some tree, where black Pomp lay asleep in his white shirt and short drawers, while from the end of the house came the busy sounds made by poor Sarah.

I think it was at that moment most of all that I quite thoroughly realised what a delightful home we had built up in the wilderness. And now it was a heap of ashes; my father, Hannibal, and poor Sarah seriously hurt; Pomp gone too for aught I could tell; and Morgan here talking so calmly and coolly of setting alight to the pile of destruction lying there by our side.

Was it all true? I asked myself, and felt ready to rub my eyes and try to rouse myself from the horrible nightmare dream from which I was suffering.

I was awakened sufficiently the next moment by Morgan's words, as he said in a quiet, decided manner—

"Yes, Master George, we've done our duty as far as we can, and there's only one more thing left to do—when the time comes, sir; when the time comes."

Just then, to my utter astonishment, there was a movement among the men, and one of them came up close to me.

"You'll shake hands, sir," he said. "I've taken a deal of notice of you, different times."

I held out my hand mechanically, felt it warmly wrung, and then had it seized in turn by the others, while I was struggling to speak words that would not come. At last though they burst forth.

"But the women and children!" I cried, as my heart seemed to stand still.

"Better than being butchered by those savages," said Morgan, gloomily. "I'd sooner see my poor wife die than fall into their hands."

His words silenced me, for I knew that they could expect no mercy. Then feeling utterly exhausted, I was munching a piece of bread, where I sat on a rough case, and sipping a little water from time to time, when just as the fire was at its height, with great waves of flame floating gently away from the great pine-wood building and illumining the wide clearing all round, I heard a familiar voice behind me say in his droll, dry fashion—

"What pity!"

"Ah, Pomp!" I cried, turning to him; "you there?"

"Iss, Mass' George. When we go home again? Pomp done like dis place 'tall."

"No, nor nobody else, boy," said Morgan, sadly. "Hark! Hear anything?"

He seized his gun as he spoke, but it was only a hissing scream made by one of the water-soaked timbers as the steam was forced out.

"Nobody come. Injum all gone away."

"How do you know?" I cried, eagerly.

"Pomp done know. Tink um all gone. No shoot arrow now."

"Wrong, boy," said Morgan. "They are hatching some fresh scheme, and they'll be down upon us directly."

There was a pause.

"And then it will be all over," muttered Morgan, as he turned towards Pomp, looked at him firmly, and then held out his hand.

"Come here, boy," he said.

"Wha' for? Pomp no do nuffum. Can't do nuffum here."

"Come and shake hands."

Pomp laughed and held out his hand, which Morgan took.

"If I don't see you again, boy, good-bye, and I'm sorry I've been so rough to you sometimes."

"Mass' Morgan go walking out in wood? Take Pomp."

Morgan heaved a deep sigh. "Ah, you don't bear any malice," he said.

Pomp shook his head, and looked at me, for it was Greek to him.

"Not so bad as that," I said. "Come, cheer up."

"Can't any more, my lad," said Morgan. "No one can't say, look you, that I haven't cheered up through thick and thin. But, look here, Master George, speaking fair now, what is the good of Injuns?"

"Injum no good," said Pomp, sharply.

"Right, boy; no good at all. Phew!" he whistled; "how them logs do burn!"

"Ah! No duck, no fis', no turkey roace on 'tick!" said Pomp, regretfully. "Shoot, shoot, shoot, lot time, an' no shoot nuffum to eat. Pomp dreffle hungly."

"There's plenty of bread," I said, smiling at the boy's utter unconcern about our position of peril.

"Yah, 'tuff! Nas' 'tuff. Pomp too dreffle hungly eat any more bread. Why no go now and kill all Injum? Pomp fine de way."

The boy looked quite vexed at his proposition being declined, and squatted down to gaze at the fire, till after a time he lay down to look at it, and at last Morgan said to me—

"Don't trouble him much, lad. Fast asleep."

It was quite true. There lay Pomp enjoying a good rest, while we watched the progress of the flames, which rose and fell and gleamed from the pieces of the watchful men dotted round the great place, then left them in shadow, while a terrible silence had now fallen upon the camp. The fierce fire crackled and roared, and the flames fluttered as a great storm of sparks kept floating far away, but no one spoke, and it was only when an officer went round to the various posts that there seemed to be the slightest motion in the camp.

"Takes a cleverer man than me to understand Injun," said Morgan at last, just before daybreak, as I returned from the tent where my father was sleeping peacefully, and Hannibal outside wrapped in a blanket quite calmly taking his rest.

"What do you mean?" I said, wearily.

"I mean I can't make out the ways of Injuns. Here have we been watching all night, expecting to have a big fight by way of finish up, and Pomp's right after all. They seem to have gone."

"If I could only think so!" I replied, with a sigh.

"Well, lad, I think they are," said Morgan. "They might have had it all their own way, and beaten us pretty easy a time back, but they've let their chance go by; and I suppose they're satisfied with the mischief they've done for one night, and have gone back to their camp to sing and dance and brag to one another about what brave fellows they all are."

It soon proved to be as Morgan had said, for the day broke, and the sun rose soon after, to shine down warm and bright upon as dejected, weary-looking, and besmirched a body of men as could have been seen. For they were all blackened with powder and smoke; some were scorched, and in every face I could read the same misery, dejection, and despair. But the General, Colonel Preston, and several of the leading gentlemen soon sent a different spirit through the camp. A few orders were given, the sentries changed, three parts being withdrawn; the women, who looked one half-hour haggard, pale, and scared, wore quite a changed aspect, as they hurriedly prepared food for their defenders; and in a very short time cries and shouts from the children helped to make some of us think that matters were not quite so desperate after all.



CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

It is astonishing what can be done in the most painful times when there are good leaders, and a spirit of discipline reigns. I remember how I noted it here that noontide; when, after food and rest, the fresher men relieved sentries, and strove to listen to the General as he pointed out that though the block-house was gone and our retreat cut off, we were in nearly as good a position of defence as ever, for our barriers were firm, and it was not certain, even in the most fierce of assaults, that the enemy could win. In addition, he pointed out that at any hour a British ship might appear in the river, whose presence alone would startle the Indians; while if the worst came to the worst, there would be a place for us to find safety.