HE SLIPPED AWAY THROUGH THE SHADOWS.
Suddenly the little fellow turned and saw the Bear glaring at him. Horatio was between him and the cabins. The boy gave one wild shriek and dashed through a small open door that led into the blackness of the sugar house, the Bear following close behind. It was one of the old Creole sugar houses where the syrup is poured out into open vessels to cool and harden. The little darky knew his way and Horatio didn't. He stumbled and fell, and growled and tried to follow the flying shadow that was skipping and leaping and begging, "Oh, Mars Debbil! Oh, please, Mars Debbil, lemme go dis time, an' I nevah do so no mo'. Nevah do no mo' hoo-doo, Mars Debbil; oh, please, Mars Debbil, lemme go!"
But Horatio was getting closer and closer and in another moment would seize him. Then, suddenly, something happened. The Bear stumbled and, half falling, stepped into one of the big shallow wooden vessels. He felt his hind feet break through something like crusted ice and sink a foot or more into a heavy, thick substance below. When he tried to lift them they only sank deeper. Then he knew what was the matter. He had stepped into a mass of hardening sugar and was a prisoner! His forefeet were free, but he dared not struggle with them for fear of getting them fast, too. The little darky, who thought the devil had stopped to rest, was huddled together in a corner not daring to move. Horatio remembered Bo sleeping safely in their camp and began to weep for his own wickedness. In the morning men would come with axes and guns. Why had he not heeded Bo? Half seated on the crusted sugar he gave himself up to sorrow and despair.
It was early morning when Bo awoke. He was surprised to see that Horatio was not beside him, for the boy was usually first awake. He called loudly. Then, as the moments passed and the Bear did not come, he grew uneasy. Suddenly a terrible suspicion flashed over him. He sprang to his feet and seizing the violin that lay beside him set forth on a run in the direction of the white sugar house. He knew Horatio would go there because it was nearest, and he felt certain that something dreadful had happened. The incident of the day before made him almost sure of Horatio's errand, and he feared the worst. No doubt they had caught and killed him by this time, and what would he do now without his faithful friend?
SUDDENLY THE LITTLE FELLOW TURNED.
He ran faster and faster. As he drew near the sugar house he heard a great commotion. For a moment he stopped. If Horatio had done something terrible and they had caught him perhaps it would be dangerous to interfere. The next moment he rushed on. Horatio was his friend and he would save his life if possible, unless——. He did not think any further, but flew on. As he dashed into the cane yard he saw crowds gathering and men running with axes and clubs. Others had guns and cane knives, and all were crowding toward the big doors of the sugar house, that were now thrown open. Inside he heard shouts, mingled with Horatio's fierce growls. His friend was still alive.
Without pausing he rushed through the doors and saw a circle of negro men gathered about the big wooden trough where the Bear was a prisoner, snapping and growling and trying to get free. The little pickaninny who, in spite of his fright, had slept all night in the corner, was there, too, and the men with axes and other weapons had entered with Bo. There was not a second to be lost.
"Wait!" screamed Bo; "wait!" And tearing through the astonished crowd he thrust the violin into Horatio's hands.