CHAPTER XLII.
WE ARE PURSUED BY DOGS AND PORTUGALS.
In this discourse we retraced our steps, and crossing the valley (yetwide of the station) we ascended again that chain of hills crossed theday before; for Lewis de Pino, as I was now informed by Matthew, hadturned out of his road to sell me and traffic for gold; and after a longand painful march we came about daylight to the woods.
Here we rested, though against my inclination, being tormented withapprehensions concerning my dear Lady Biddy; but Matthew was pretty nighspent with fatigue, having less strength than I, and none of thatterrible anxiety which pricked me onward. Thus, in one way and another,was a good deal of precious time lost.
When Matthew perceived that my impatience was becoming intolerable tome, he rose, and we once more pushed on. Yet he had a difficulty to keeppace with me, and from time to time he would remonstrate at my pace,saying, "Not so fast, master--not so fast; you forget that your legs area quarter of a yard longer than mine," and the like.
The road still skirted the mountains pretty high up, yet still amidstthe woods, whence now and then we caught a glimpse of the river shiningbelow, very sweet and peaceful in the gray light of the morning.
"Now, master," says Matthew, when we had gone about a couple of leaguesalong this road--"now we shall do well to quit this road, and make ourway as best we may through the woods; for I reckon we are getting nigh astation, and at any turn are likely to be spied."
Accordingly we struck into the wood, and none too soon, for ere we hadmade a hundred yards we were brought to a stand by the furious barkingof a dog.
"If we can't silence that brute we are undone," whispered Matthew, "forthey are trained to hunt down runaways, and will not quit their quarrytill the huntsmen are come up with it."
Presently the barking ceased for a minute, and we heard the voices ofmen egging the dog on; yet could we see neither one nor the other forthe thick growth, though their cries sounded no further off than acouple of hundred yards or so.
"Master," says Matthew, very much crestfallen, "promise me one thing."
"Ay," says I, "and you may depend on it I will keep my word."
He pressed my hand and nodded; then says he:
"Promise me that if I am taken, and you see a chance to pass your swordthrough me, you will put an end to my life."
"Nay," says I, shrinking before such a cruel possibility, "things willnot come to that pass."
"Promise me, all the same," says he, very earnestly.
"You have my promise, friend," says I, though I would not have given ithad I foreseen what he was about to ask.
"Good," says he. "I could lose another ell of my skin without much morethan a day's howling; and I believe I could stand having my feetroasted, after the first scorching had taken my senses away; but Icouldn't endure to be taken back a slave and lose my freedom."
I felt for the poor fellow with all my heart, sympathizing with his loveof liberty, till he added, in a still more melancholy tone:
"I am not a family man."
Then I felt as if I must laugh, despite our peril, for it appeared thathe dreaded being restored to his wives and children more than all thetortures the Portugals could inflict, and preferred death. Yet I am nowinclined to think this reason was but an afterthought of his, and thathe merely put it forward to hide his grave dread by way of pleasantry;for I have remarked that men of humor will in their most painful momentsput forward a jest, when at another time they would be silent. So I haveseen some jest over their disease when they know it to be mortal, andothers even who have died with a pleasantry at their own expense ontheir lips.
All this time we stood in the midst of great feather-plants[2] as highas my shoulder, hoping the dog would come nigh enough for us to cut himdown ere we were spied by the men, who, we doubted not, had muskets todefend them; also we dared not move, lest we should be heard by the dogor be seen by the men. Presently the barking and the sound of voiceswent further away, as if the dogs had got on our track and were huntingit back the way we had come; then the barking ceased altogether, to ourgreat content, for we made sure thereby the scent was lost, and thechase given up.
[Footnote 2: Ferns.--F. B.]
"Now," says Matthew, "let us put our right leg foremost and get down tothe river as best we may, for if we get t'other side of that unseen wemay laugh at dogs and Portugals."
"Nay," says I, "go if you will, but I can not get away from this stationuntil I know whether my dear cousin be there or not. You live forfreedom," adds I, "but I live for something more than that."
"No need to tell me that," says he. "Lord love you, master, do you thinkI don't know what's the matter with you? Trust me, I'll play you noscurvy trick, though I don't relish the society of females. Do as I wishyou, and believe me I am thinking as much of your welfare and happinessas my own. But, for Heaven's sake, do not let us waste time a-talkinghere like so many attorneys. You shall have all the explanation you needwhen we get t'other side of the water."
I felt sure of this good fellow's honesty, and believing his judgmentbetter than mine, knowing more of these parts and the ways of Portugalsthan ever I did, I yielded to his persuasions, and we scuttled down thehillside as quickly as we might for the obstructions that pestered usmore and more as we advanced. For in the lower sides of these hills,towards the bottom, where the sun burns fiercer, the soil is moister,and a greater depth of earth lies over the rock, the growth isprodigiously thick; and besides the mass of shrubs upon the ground thatone must pick one's way through not to be torn in pieces, the trees areall netted together with lianas as stout as a ship's tackle; brambles,briars, and hanging vines of a hundred sorts; so there is no way betwixtthem but what a man may cut for himself with his sword.
"Give me a valley like that we have left behind, where there is naughtbut stones and rocks," says Matthew; "for though you may break yourshins one moment and your nose the next, yet can you make some headway.But here," says he, "no man can roll down a hundred yards withoutsetting foot to the ground. Howsomever, we're shut of the dog for ourconsolation."
Scarce were these words out of his mouth when they were forciblycontradicted by a fierce barking close in our rear; and turning about wespied the brute (as big as a wolf and as horrid) bounding towards us.But seeing us prepared with our swords to cut him in pieces, he stopsshort. Nor would he anyhow permit us to get near him (though Matthew, totempt him, hid his sword behind him, and made forward with his hand out,saying "Poor doggy" very civilly, as though he would caress him), butbacking when we advanced towards him, approaching as we went on, the dogcontrived ever to keep well out of our reach, all the while barking tobe heard a mile off.
"This will never do," says I; "the Portugals will be down on usdirectly."
"Ay," says he; "do you cut a way through the briars, while I keep thisbrute off."
So I hacked away with all my might at the lianas, while Matthew occupiedhimself with the dog, sometimes in Portuguese, commanding him (as Ijudged) to go home in a tone of authority, or entreating him mildly tocome near and get a chop for his pains; but all to no purpose, exceptthat he kept him from doing us a mischief with his fangs.
"Go home, you beast!" cries he: and then in the same breath, "Would wewere back in my old valley, master: I'd brain you with a rock in atwinkling. But here is nothing to hurl at the cursed beast. Nice olddoggy, come here!"
But now he had to hold his peace, for we could hear in the woods aboveus the voices of Portugals crying to one another, and shoutingencouragement to the dog; nor dare I chop our way further, lest theflashing of the sword should be seen above the growth about us, andbring a shower of musket-balls upon us.
The only thing that saved us from immediate discovery and apprehensionwas that our pursuers found the same difficulty in advancing that we hadovercome, and had to cut their way to where they heard the barking ofthe dog.
"If we could only silence that vile dog!" whispered Matthew, grindinghis teeth.
"Ay," says I, "but how may
we do that?"
"I see but one way," says he, "and that not very promising, but 'tisbetter than to wait here and be shot. Let us go back the way we havecome."
"Why," says I, "that is but to offer ourselves the sooner to thePortugals."
"Nay," says he, "they are still a pretty fair distance off. Come and doas I ask you."
"Lead on, friend," says I. "You are better acquainted with this warfarethan I."
So Matthew started at once to go back up the hill by the way we had cutthrough the growth, which did seem to me the rankest folly in the world.And what made it look worse was that, instead of trying to pacify thedog, he enraged it more than ever by thrusting at it with his sword,spitting at it, etc., but in betwixt he gave me instructions, and openedout his designs.
"You see the big tree on your right hand in front?" says he.
"Ay," says I.
"Get behind me, and when I pass that tree slip behind it and wait readywith your sword. The dog knows me, and takes no note of you."
There was no time to say more, for he had come abreast of the tree, andhere he did draw the dog into a greater rage than ever, so that (as hehad directed) I slipped behind the tree unobserved. And now, seeingMatthew's excellent design, I waited with my sword raised above my head.
After he had gone forward another two or three paces, Matthew begins todraw back, all the while gibing and jeering at the dog, who was now sofurious that he even ventured to snap at the sword-blade when Matthewthrust it forward; and so step-by-step Matthew falls back until, passingme a couple of paces, the dog comes snapping and snarling forward afterhim till he is fairly within my reach, when with one swift blow I didcut him right through the loins clean in two halves.
The Admirable Lady Biddy Fane Page 42
