Dick Boldhero.
CHAPTER VII.
Although I was gradually recovering from the state of extreme weakness to which I had been reduced, still, I continued so feeble as to render it impossible for me to proceed on my journey. I continued therefore with my kind friends at Maroontown, occasionally taking a short walk about the place. I soon became acquainted with a number of the people. I was very much gratified by the good-natured manner in which everybody treated me. The houses were extremely slight, many of them consisting only of sticks set in the ground, the roof and sides being formed of a thatch of palm leaves. Others were a little more substantial, the walls being framed of mud and stone. The place hardly seemed like the abode of human beings, and when I gazed upon it, I fancied that it was only the village of some ingenious animals, a little elevated in the scale of being above the beavers.
But notwithstanding this rude aspect of their dwellings, the people themselves seemed the most light-hearted and merry set I ever beheld. Every night there was music, and dancing, and laughter, and frolic, and what seemed strange, there was very little of riot or violence. A good feeling seemed to pervade all classes, and if they were poor, ignorant, and in some respects degraded, they seemed at least happy and kind-hearted. There was very little government among them, and though they had magistrates, it was seldom necessary for these to make any great show of authority.
While I was at this place, the old woman, who spoke English, as I have already mentioned, told me a good many tales relating to the history of the place, one of which I will give to my readers.
One of the earliest inhabitants of Maroontown was King Congo. This personage was born on the African coast, and was the eldest son of one of the petty kings in that quarter. He was captured by a party of slavers, brought to Paramaribo, and offered for sale as a slave. He was a good-looking fellow, about twenty years of age, of great strength and daring courage. He was readily purchased by a merchant of the city, and became a servant in his family. Submitting to his fate, he performed the duties required of him with a tolerable grace, though occasionally the remembrance of his birth and former dignity crossed his mind, and for a moment caused his feelings to revolt from the drudgery required of him.
It happened that one day, when he was a little moody from reflections like these, his master demanded of him some service of more than ordinary servility. Congo seemed to hesitate for a moment, and stood looking his master in the face, as if about to question his right thus to command him. The latter, greatly incensed, struck the negro in the face. Congo, surprised and irritated, seized his master by the collar, and was about to dash him to the floor, when suddenly recollecting himself, he unclenched his hand and said, sneeringly, “I scorn to wrestle with one so much weaker than myself; but I will not serve a man who treats me with such indignity.”
The rage of the master now knew no bounds. He called aloud for his servants, and as about a dozen of them rushed into the room, he commanded them to seize the offender. But Congo was now thoroughly roused. As the men seemed about to seize him, he retreated to a corner of the room, seized a chair, and, whirling it before him, defied the whole party. These, knowing his prodigious strength, and frightened by his wild and threatening aspect, stood aloof, afraid to grapple with such an enemy. In vain were the threats of the master. Finding it impossible to urge them on, he seized a pair of pistols, and, taking deliberate aim, discharged them both at the offender. One of the balls missed; the other entered the right arm of Congo, and, shattering the bone, the uplifted chair fell to the floor, and the broken limb swung useless by his side.
Finding it in vain to resist farther, the negro yielded, and being strongly bound, was immediately taken to a public establishment, kept for the purpose, and received a hundred lashes upon the naked back. The poor fellow was now shut up in a small room, almost without light or air, it being the purpose of his master to subdue him by privation and suffering. His arm was dressed, and care was taken that he should not die, for this would have been a serious loss to the pocket of the proprietor.
At length, Congo recovered; but his strength was wasted, and he could only totter about with great effort. He was now released, and his master, not fearing him in his present enfeebled condition, took him once more into his house. Here he was treated with the greatest harshness. He was required to labor beyond his strength, and when he was tardy from exhaustion, he was buffeted either with the hand or foot of his lordly proprietor.
Congo submitted to all this with apparent humility, but a feeling was burning within him which was destined ere long to work out his deliverance.
In a few months his health and strength were completely restored, and though he continued to perform his duties with alacrity, he was meditating some plan by which he might escape from his bondage. In this state of things, it chanced that he was one day passing by the public whipping-house, when, hearing the lashes and screams of the sufferer, he opened the door and went in. He there saw a young woman drawn upward by the wrists, so that her feet were three or four inches from the ground, while the executioner was inflicting upon her back the number of lashes commanded by her master.
For a moment the blood rushed to Congo’s brain, and a dizzy feeling came over him; but soon recovering, he rushed up to the whipping-master, wrenched the whip from his hand, threw him upon the ground, and laid the weapon lustily upon his back. He then cut the rope which tied the hands of the suffering girl, and rushed out of the place. Bewildered with his own emotions, he walked along the street, apparently unconscious of his situation; but a loud shout, and a posse of people at his heels, roused him from his revery. Congo turned round, faced his pursuers sternly for a moment, and then, with a swift foot, set out for the country.
For two miles he ran like a deer, but finding that he was pursued by men on horseback, he leaped over the banks of the river Surinam, and plunged into the water. Several of the horsemen came up and discharged their pistols at the fugitive, but he was beyond their reach. He swam across the river; but here a new danger awaited him. An immense alligator lay upon the bank, and, as he approached, sprung upon him. Nothing could have saved Congo at this moment but his strength and courage. As he was approaching the shore, he saw the alligator, and, drawing his knife from his belt, he faced the monster, and, plunging his knife down his open jaws, killed him in an instant.
Delivered from this peril, Congo turned round, shook his fist triumphantly toward his pursuers who lined the opposite bank of the river, and set forward upon his journey toward the woody districts that lay in the distance. These he at last reached, and burying himself in the recesses of the forest, he lived like a wild animal upon the fruits that nature afforded.
A party was soon made up and set forth, for the purpose of capturing the daring negro. They were provided with guns, and attended by several blood-hounds. The latter soon came upon the track of the fugitive, and their deep bellowing at once announced to him his danger, and to the hunters that the game was near at hand. Being armed with a stout bludgeon, Congo departed, and for nearly two days the hounds were unable to overtake him. At last, finding himself excessively fatigued, he paused and determined to await the approach of the dogs, and give them battle. They soon came up, and the leader sprang upon him. With a single whirl of his club, the negro laid the animal prostrate upon the earth.
In an instant, however, three more were before him, ready to bury their fangs in his flesh! With his uplifted weapon, Congo looked the fierce animals steadily in the eye. They paused for a moment; but, overcoming their fear, they sprang upon him. Two of them were soon stretched lifeless upon the ground, but a third seized Congo by the leg, and brought him to the earth. The animal then sprang at his throat, but the nimble knife of the negro despatched him in the very act. Wounded and bloody, the poor fellow arose and dragged himself forward. He was soon too faint to proceed, and fell to the earth.
The hunters now came up, and seeing that their dogs were killed, began to deliberate as to the course they should pursue. Congo, sheltered in the bushes, saw and heard all that passed. They concluded that it was in vain to pursue the fugitive farther, and resolving to rest themselves for a while, determined then to return. Taking off their knapsacks, they laid them down with their guns, and three of the party went in search of water, leaving the fourth behind. This individual sat down upon the ground, and, leaning against a tree, was soon asleep.
It may well be imagined that Congo watched these proceedings with great interest. Waiting till the three men were out of view, he issued from his hiding-place, and carefully crept forward, toward the slumbering hunter. The latter, however, was but partially asleep, and awaked by the rustling of the leaves, saw the negro creeping upon him. Amazement paralyzed him for a moment, then springing to his feet, he seized his gun and fired. The ball missed, and, the instant after, he was grappled in the arms of his formidable enemy. After a momentary struggle, they both fell, and Congo was uppermost.
What was his surprise, in looking in the face of his prisoner, to see his former master. Congo drew his knife from his belt; the blade glittered aloft, and was already descending to inflict a fatal blow, when his purpose changed, and he said, “It was your intention to kill me, and were I in your place I should not have a moment to live. But I will not imitate a white man.” Saying this, he took the straps of one of the knapsacks that lay near him, and bound his prisoner firmly on his back to the roots of a tree. Then seizing the four muskets, the ammunition and the knapsacks, he said, with a smile, to the prostrate gentleman, “Good-bye, massa,” and departed.
The huntsmen soon returned and released their companion, but finding that their guns were now in the hands of the enemy, they thought it most prudent to make a hasty retreat. While they returned to Paramaribo, to be laughed at for their defeat, Congo, well armed and provisioned, secreted himself in the forest. He was now too formidable to be pursued, and soon meeting some of his countrymen, who, like himself, had become inhabitants of the wilderness, they repaired to the present site of Maroontown, and began to make a settlement. Here they were speedily joined by other fugitives, and the village, thus commenced, soon became a considerable town. Congo received the title of king, and for many years continued to exercise authority over the settlement.
(To be continued.)
