Nic Revel: A White Slave's Adventures in Alligator Land

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

  PETE'S APPEAL.

  "Aren't you a bit hard on me, Master Nic?" said Pete, busy at his taskin the plantation of hoeing the weeds, which seemed to take root andbegin to grow again directly they were cut down.

  He did not look up, but spoke with his head bent over his work,conscious as he was that they might be keenly watched.

  "I have said nothing harsh to you," said Nic coldly.

  "No, zir; but I thought that when you got a bit better, zeeing as we'reboth in the zame trouble, working together like them niggers, you mightha' got a bit more friendly."

  "Friendly!" said Nic bitterly.

  "I don't mean reg'lar friendly, but ready to say a word to a man now andthen, seeing how he wants to help you."

  "You can't help me," said Nic sadly. "I seem to be tied down to thisweary life for always, and for no fault of mine--no fault of mine."

  "And it's no fault o' mine, Master Nic. You don't believe it, but Icouldn't help coming that night; and I did try all I could to keep HumpyDee from hurtin' you."

  "Don't talk about it, please."

  "No, zur, I won't; but you're hot and tired. You haven't got yourstrength up yet, though you are a zight better. Wish I could do all thework for you. Here, I know."

  They were hoeing a couple of rows of corn, and Pete was some feet aheadof his companion, who looked at him wonderingly, as, after a quickglance round, he stepped across and back to where Nic was toiling.

  "Quick," he said, "you get on to my row and keep moving your hoe andresting till I ketch up."

  "But--" began Nic.

  "Quick," growled Pete fiercely; and he gave the lagger a sharp thrustwith his elbow. "If they zee us talking and moving, old Zaunders'llcome across."

  That meant a fierce bullying, as Nic knew, and he hesitated no longer,but stepped into Pete's row.

  "I don't like this; it is too full of deceit," said Nic. "You will beblamed for not doing more work."

  "Nay; I shan't," replied Pete, "because I shall work harder. We'rea-going to do it this way; they won't notice it, and if I keep pullingyou up a bit level with me it'll make your work easier."

  "But I have no right to let you."

  "'Taren't nought to do wi' you; it's for the zake of the old country.When you get stronger and more used to the hoeing you'll do more than Ican, p'raps, and help me."

  For the prisoners had been compelled to settle down at the plantation;and men who had never been used to regular hard toil, but had lived byfishing and salmon-spearing, and any odd task which offered, now slavedaway among the sugar-canes or the Indian-corn, the rice cultivationbeing allotted to the blacks.

  The settler had kept his word as to the behaviour to his white servants,treating them with what he considered stern justice; but every effortNic had made to obtain a hearing failed, the last producing threatswhich roused the young man's pride, and determined him to fight out thecruel battle as fate seemed to have ordained.

  Three months had passed since the boat reached the place that night, andthere had been little to chronicle, for the prisoners' life had beenmost monotonous, embraced as it was in rising early, toiling in theplantation in the hot sunshine all the day, with the regular halts formeals, and the barn-like shed at night, with the men's roughly-madebunks, a blanket, and a bag of husks of Indian-corn.

  The life suited Nic, though, for after the first fortnight he rapidlybegan to gain strength, and soon after he was sent out with the rest ofthe men.

  There had been no open trouble; the prisoners shared the same building,and their meals were served out to them together; but there was acomplete division between them which was kept up whenever possible; andone day out in the field Pete began about it to Nic, who took no heed ofeither party.

  "Zee Humpy Dee look at me, Master Nic?" said Pete.

  "Yes."

  "Know why, don't you?"

  "No."

  "You do: I telled you. He zays, as you heered, that I set the zailorson 'em to get 'em brought out here."

  Nic said nothing.

  "He means to kill me one o' these days. He'll hit me on the head, orpitch me into the river, or zomething; and the others won't interfere."

  Nic looked up at the speaker quickly.

  "Comes hard on me," continued Pete. "I never done nothing, and theykeeps me off, and don't speak; and you don't, Master Nic, zo I zeem allalone like. It makes me feel zometimes as if I must make mates o' theblacks, but I s'pose they wouldn't care for me. Wish I'd got drowned."

  Nic raised his head to look in the man's face; but the old troublerankled in his breast. His heart would not go out to him,fellow-sufferers though they were.

  It was so several times over, Pete trying hard to show what goodwill hecould under their painful circumstances; but it was not until that dayout in the corn-rows, when Pete helped him with his work at a time whenthe heat was trying his barely-recovered strength, that Nic felt thatperhaps there was some truth in the man's story. At any rate, he wasshowing himself repentant if guilty, and the prisoner recalled how Petehad nursed him and without doubt had saved his life.

  Pete went on hoeing till he had worked level with Nic, and then heworked harder to get as far ahead as he could before slipping back tohis own row, for Nic to return to his with once more a good start, and afeeling of gratitude for his companion's kindness, which softened hisvoice next time he spoke, and delighted Pete, who began talking at once.

  "Know where they keep the boat, Master Nic?" he said, as they workedaway.

  "No. Do you?"

  A few hours earlier Nic would have said, "No," and nothing more.

  "Think I do," said Pete, brightening up. "I mean to get it out of theniggers zomehow. We never zee it go after they've been out in it. Theytie it up at night, and next morning it's always gone."

  "Yes," said Nic; "I have noticed that."

  "It's that Zamson and old Xerxes who take it away zomewhere in thenight, and walk or zwim back."

  "Very likely, Pete."

  "Yes, Master Nic; that's it; but keep on hoeing. I've laid awake nightsthinking about it, for we must have that boat. I don't mean Humpy Deeand his lot when I zay `we,' because you will go off wi' me if I zee achance?"

  "I--I think not, Pete."

  "Master Nic!"

  "Well, yes, then; I will."

  "Hab, my lad; you zeem to ha' put life into a man. There's zummat tolive for now. I've thought and thought till I've felt zick; but that'sthe on'y way. I could risk running for it; but there's the dogs--thedogs--Pst! look out!"

  The warning was needed, for there were steps coming in their direction,and directly after the overseer strode up.

  "I thought so," he said; "I've had my eye on you--you scoundrel! Everynow and then your hoe has stopped, and I could tell from your mannerthat you were talking, and wasting your time. Here are you a good sixfeet behind this weak young fellow. Get on, and catch up to him."

  Nic felt stunned, and he turned to speak and exculpate his fellow-slave;but there was such an agonised, imploring look in Pete's eyes that hewas silent, and felt compelled to join in the little deception.

  "Yes," said the overseer, "a good six feet behind you, my lad, when itought to be the other way on. Get on, you, sir, get on."

  "Yes, zur; zoon pull up, zur."

  "Zur and zoon!" cried the overseer. "Bah! what a savage burr you have."

  He went on, followed by one of the two dogs which accompanied him, theother hanging back to look up at Nic with its tail wagging slowly, tillits absence was noticed and a shrill whistle rang out, which fetched italong with a rush, doubtless caused by recollections of the whip.

  "Oh, Pete!" whispered Nic reproachfully.

  "It's all right, lad," said the man, laughing merrily. "What a game itwas. I didn't mind a bit."

  "I did."

  "Then don't, Master Nic, zur. I can't have you wear yourself out.We've got to 'scape, my lad, and the boat's the thing; but if you couldget t'other two dogs as
friendly as that one, we'd make for the woods.But anyhow, you've got to grow as strong as me; we can't do nothingwithout. Master Nic--"

  "Yes."

  "If it was the last words I'd got to zay, I did fight for you thatnight, and it waren't my fault you was took."

  "I begin to believe it now, Pete," was the reply.

  "Do, zur: do try hard. I aren't a bragger, Master Nic, but it's justtruth what I zay. I want to get you back again to the old country; andI can't think o' nought else night or day. If I can get you off, andcome with you, o' course I should like; but if I can't, and I can getyou off--there, I'll lie down and die to do it, lad. But look here, wemust only trust ourselves. If the other lot, who are making some planof their own, knew it, they'd tell upon us and spoil us. Master Nic,can't you believe in me!"

  Nic was silent for a few moments as he turned to look in the man's eyes.

  "Yes," he said at last; "I do believe in you."

  "And you'll trust me, zur?"

  Again there was a momentary hesitation before Nic answered, "Yes."

  "Hoe, Master Nic, hoe," whispered Pete excitedly; "he's been watchingus, and he's sent the dogs at us for not being at work."

  As proof thereof the two fierce-looking brutes came rushing down one ofthe rows, open-mouthed, and Pete raised his hoe as if to strike.

  "Me first, Master Nic," panted Pete. "I aren't afeared. Let him dowhat he likes after; I'll kill one or both on 'em before they shalltouch you."

  At that moment there was a savage growling from the dogs not thirtyyards away, and they came rushing at the poor fellows as hard as theycould tear.