Chapter 51
"Yes, sir; I hope not, but it's solid soft everywhere I've been. I've been most through half-a-dozen times, and twiced over I've felt as if some of them there lizardy crorkendillo things had got hold of my toes and tugged at 'em to get me down."
"Oh, don't talk about it, Tom," groaned the mids.h.i.+pman.
"All right, sir; on'y you arksed me."
"But you have no right to think such a horror as that. He may have got down to the boat."
"Yes, sir, he may," said the man, in a low growl, "but I've been trying my best, and I couldn't."
"Then you haven't seen the boat-keepers, Tom?"
"Not a squint of 'em, sir, and there's going to be the wussest row that ever happened aboard s.h.i.+p if we don't make haste and find them and fetch the first luff help."
"It's horrible, I know, Tom, but I've tried all I could. What's to be done?"
"Dunno, sir. But anyhow I've found you--leastwise, a'most; and I'm coming to jyne yer. Whereabouts are you, sir? Hail again; it's rayther puzzling like."
"It is, Tom--dreadful. But here, where I told you--up in this fir tree--cypress. But mind how you come, for it's very soft."
"Soft ain't the word for it, sir. I've been going to make a swim on it over and over again. But it's reg'lar hugga-my-buff, sir; neither one thing nor t'other. It's too soft to walk in, and it ain't soft enough to swim."
"That's true, Tom," said the lad.
"Oh, you've found it so, have you, sir? Then look here; you arn't so heavy as I am, so s'pose you comes to me 'stead o' me coming to you.
What do you say to that?"
"I'll try, Tom," cried Murray; and he began to descend, feeling the elastic evergreen begin to sway and vibrate as if before long it would double down with the weight of its load; and this it finally did, leaving the mids.h.i.+pman floundering on the surface of the cane and reed-covered swamp, so that it was only by a vigorous effort that he managed to scuffle along in the direction of the man, who kept on shouting encouragement until he was able to reach out a hand and drag the lad to his side.
"Hah!" panted Murray, with a sigh of relief.
"Hah it is, sir," said the man. "But beg your pardon, sir; arn't you a-spoiling your uniform?"
"Don't talk about it, Tom," said Murray, breathing hard. "Let's be thankful that we've saved our lives."
"Saved our lives! But have we, sir? Don't seem to me that we're out of the muddle yet. There, look at that!" added
"Look at what?" cried Murray.
"I meant feel that, sir," said the man, correcting himself, and stamping with one foot. "It felt just as if one of them short four-legged sarpints had laid hold of my leg to pull me down for supper."
"Surely not, Tom," said Murray, with a shudder, as he felt attacked by a sense of horrible insecurity.
"All right, sir. Say so if you like; I'm willing. But I'd keep on stamping as long as we're here in this lovely place. I do hope, though, as they arn't making a meal of poor old t.i.tely; he do desarve better luck after being speared as he was over yonder across the herring pond."
"Let's hail him again."
"All right, sir. I've wanted to do so ever so much more, but I wouldn't, for it was telling the enemy where we are, and if we do much of that sort of thing we shall be having that pleasant Yankee coming shooting with his men, and we don't want that."
"Of course not, Tom, but we must risk it, for the poor fellow may be somewhere within reach waiting for help."
"Then why don't he holler, sir?"
"Perhaps he has shouted till he is worn-out, Tom."
"Then he can't be within reach, sir, or else we should ha' heered him, for he's got a pretty good pipe of his own."
"Well, hail him, Tom."
"All right, sir, but 'tween you and me and the starn post your voice would go farther than mine would."
"Think so, Tom? Very well, then. _Seafowl_ ahoy!"
It was a loud tenor shout that doubtless penetrated the cane jungle farther than would the deep ba.s.s of the able-seaman, and after a minute's listening, Murray hailed again; but somehow the shout did not seem to have any result.
"Let me have a try, sir," growled the sailor, and upon the middy nodding, the man shouted five times at intervals, listening with his hand to his ear after every hail.
"It's of no good, Tom," said Murray bitterly. "Come along, and let's be doing something."
"That's what I was a-thinking, sir, for if we stop here much longer we shall be reg'larly sucked down into the mud. 'Sides which, if my poor mate hears us he won't come here. He'd on'y hail."
"And if the enemy hear us they are quite at home here, and they'll come down upon us and put a stop to our getting across to the boat. What do you mean by that?--What are you chuckling about?"
"You, sir," said the man. "I was thinking what an orficer you will make some day."
"Do you mean that for banter, my man?" said Murray angrily.
"Banter, sir? What, chaff? Not me, sir. I meant it. I felt a bit proud of you, sir, for using your head like that."
"Well, this is no time for paying compliments, Tom. You take the lead."
"I'll do what you orders, sir, of course, you being my orficer, but you might tell me which way I oughter lead."
"I can't, Tom, my lad. We want to get down to the boat, and hope to pick up t.i.tely on the way. I've tried till I grew more and more puzzled than ever; so now you try. You must chance it, my lad."
"Mean it, sir?"
"Mean it? Of course!" cried Murray; and the man shut his eyes close, knit his brow, and then began to mutter in a low tone, much to the mids.h.i.+pman's surprise.
"What are you doing, Tom?" he cried at last.
"What you telled me, sir--charns.h.i.+ng of it."
"Chancing it?"
"Yes, sir; that's right," said the man. "Same as we used to when we was little uns playing at _Blind Man's Buff_. 'How many horses has your father got?' Then the one as had the hankychy tied over his eyes used to answer, 'Black, white and grey.' Then the one who arksed about the horses used to say, 'Turn round three times and ketch who you may.'"
And as soon as the man had repeated these words with his eyes still closely shut he turned round three times and then opened them and stared straight before him.
"This here's the way, sir; right ahead."