At length
Peter spoke--
"Now, sir, now! Nancy has run on before to the beach wid two paddles;
now for it, now for it."
Down trundled master, and dog, and pilot. By this time there was no one
in the lower part of the shed, which was full of smoke, while the
infernal tumult on the water still raged as furiously as ever, the shot
of all sorts and sizes hissing, and splashing, and ricochetting along
the smooth surface of the harbour, as if there had been a sleet of
musket and cannonballs and grape. Peter struck out at the top of his
speed, Sneezer and I followed: we soon reached the jungle, dashed
through a path that had been recently cleared with a cutlass or
billhook, for the twigs were freshly shred, and in about ten minutes
reached the high wood. However, no rest for the wicked, although the
row seemed lessening now.
"Some one has got the worst of it," said I.
"Never mind, massa," quoth Peter, "or we shan't get de betterest
ourshef."
And away we galloped again, until I had scarcely a rag an inch square on
my back, or anywhere else, and my skin was tom in pieces by the prickly
bushes and spear grass. The sound of firing now ceased entirely,
although there was still loud shouting now and then.
"Push on, massa--dem will soon miss we."
"True enough, Peter--but what is that?" as we came to a bundle of clouts
walloping about in the morass.
"De debil it must be, I tink," said the pilot. "No, my Nancy it is,
sticking in the mud up to her waist; what shall us do? you fink, massa,
we hab time for can stop to pick she out?"
"Heaven have mercy, Peter--yes, unquestionably.
Pages:
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303