Nic Revel Part 38

But the dread pa.s.sed away as quickly as it had come. He tore off another of the s.h.i.+ngles to widen the opening, and shouted down into the shed:

"Come on, then. Come on."

Already the hounds were growing savage in their disappointment, and baying and growling with tremendous clamour, as they kept on leaping over each other and dropping back.

But at the words of encouragement from above one of them awoke to the fact that there was a step all ready in the darkness, and, leaping upon it, the great creature reached up, got its paws on the sides of the opening, scrambled through without help from Nic, as he sat on the roof, and leaped down.

That was enough; the others followed quickly, and the next minute Pete was up, seated by Nic's side, the dogs now leaping at them from below, barking loudly.

"Hurt?" panted Nic.

"Not a bit. Durst us jump down?"

"We must," cried Nic firmly; and, shouting to the dogs, he lowered himself down, dropped to the ground, and was followed by Pete.

"Hie on, boys! Forward, then!" cried Nic, as the dogs leaped and bounded around him, and he began to trot away from the river.

"Which way?" said Pete, who was as excited now as his companion.

"Wherever the dogs lead us," replied Nic. "Anywhere away from this slavery and death. Forward, then, boys! Hie on!"

The dogs ceased barking and began das.h.i.+ng on through the plantation leading to the nearest wood. The hunt was up, and Nic had rightly weighed their nature. They were off in chase of something; that was enough, and the two men followed, feeling that at last they were on the highroad to freedom, with their most dreaded enemies turned to friends.

"Master Nic," said Pete hoa.r.s.ely as they trotted on, step for step following the sound made by the heavy dogs, "I aren't never been a 'ligious sort of a chap, but would it be any harm if, instead o'

kneeling down proper, I was to try and say a prayer as we run?"

"Harm, Pete?" cried Nic, with a wild, hysterical ring in his voice; "it could not be. Why, I've been praying for help ever since I leaped down among those savage beasts. I could not have ventured but for that."

Sound travels far during the night, and, though the fugitives were not aware of it, their attempt to escape was known. For, just when the dogs were free of the shed and were baying their loudest, the settler, at the head of his men, turned to Saunders:

"Hear that?" he said hoa.r.s.ely.

"Yes. They've risked it, and the dogs are running them down. Well, they have only themselves to thank; I wash my hands of it all."

The settler shuddered, for his companion's words had brought up a thought that was full of horror; and for a moment he was about to order his blacks to turn back. But just then the overseer whispered:

"Keep up, sir; not a sound, please. We shall have them now."

"No firing," said the settler quickly; "they will be unarmed."

"I don't know that," said the overseer; "but we shall soon know. Hadn't we better deal with them as they deal with us? Hark! the dogs are quiet now. They've got their prisoners, and, if I'm not wrong, in a few minutes we shall have taken ours."

"Heah dat, Zerk?" whispered Samson.

There was a grunt.

"You an' me's gwan to have de arm-ache to-morrow morn' wid all dat lot to flog."

"Iss," whispered Xerxes; "and den got to go and bury dem oder one bones."

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

A NIGHT'S MUDDLE.

On went the dogs, apparently following the track of some animal; and, as they seemed to be leading the fugitives farther and farther away from the plantation, nothing Nic felt, could be better.

For, in spite of the long imprisonment at the settler's place, the knowledge of the prisoners was confined to the river and the clearings about the house. Certainly they had had a view of the distant hills; but all beyond the plantation, save towards the swamp, was unknown land.

"We can't do better than go on, Pete," said Nic, after following the dogs for about an hour.

"Don't see as we can, zir. They're hunting after zomething they've got the zmell of, and maybe, if we cross their scent, they may begin hunting us; zo I zay let 'em go. You zee, they're mostly kep' chained up in them gashly kennels o' theirs; and they're enjoying a run in the woods.

Any idee where we be?"

"Not the slightest, Pete; but at any rate we're free."

"Till we're ketched again, Master Nic. But I zay, you'll show fight if they should catch up to uz?"

"Yes, Pete; I should feel so desperate that I should be ready to die sooner than give up now."

"That's me all over, lad," said Pete. "I zay, though; couldn't get to be more friends still wi' the dogs, and make 'em fight for uz, could we?"

Nic laughed bitterly, and then stopped short, for the yelping had ceased.

"Can you hear the hounds now?"

A sharp burst of barking a short distance away told of their direction, and after wandering in and out among the trees for a few minutes, they found the three great creatures apparently waiting for them to come up before starting off again.

This went on for a full hour longer, the dogs leading them on and on, evidently getting scent of one of the little animals the blacks hunted from time to time; but from their clumsiness, and the activity of the little quarry, each run being without result.

"Where are we now?" said Pete at last, after the yelping of the little pack had ceased.

"It is impossible to say," replied Nic. "It is all so much alike here in the darkness that I have felt helpless ever since we started; but we must be many miles away from the plantation, and I hardly know how the night has gone in this excitement; but it must be near morning."

"Must be," said Pete, "for my clothes are quite dry again, and I'm getting thirsty. What are we going to do now?"

"Keep on, and coax the dogs more and more away. We must not let them go back."

"No; that wouldn't do, Master Nic. On'y if they don't ketch anything they'll get hungry, and if they gets hungry they'll grow zavage; and if they grow zavage, what's going to happen then?"

"Wait till the trouble comes, Pete," replied Nic; "then we'll see."

"That's good zense, Master Nic; and I b'lieve them brutes are lying down and resting zomewhere. Shall I give a whistle?"

"Yes; it would do no harm."

Pete uttered a low, piping sound such as would be given by a bird, and it was answered by a bark which showed the direction; and, on turning towards it, a minute had not elapsed before they heard the heavy panting of the three animals, which sprang up and came to them, lolling out their tongues to be caressed.