“We have left them behind,” he said, “and are out of their reach for the present. Now sit still, and the faintness will go off. I must go to the other boat.”
I looked sharply round, and found that the wooded point was far behind, and also that we were well out of our stream, and floating steadily down the big river toward the settlement, whose flagstaff and houses stood out in the sunshine on our left about a mile away. I saw too that a rope had been made fast to the end of the other boat, and that we were being towed, but by whom, or what was going on there, I could not see for the great bundle in the white sheet which filled up the stern, and was still bristling with arrows.
“Hold hard!” shouted my father, and our boat began to glide alongside of the other. “Can you sit up, my lad?”
“Yes, father,” I said.
“Pomp take car’ of him, massa.”
“Yes, but you are wounded too,” said my father.
“Oh, dat nuffum,” said the boy contemptuously.
My attention was riveted now on Sarah, whom I could see as the boats were alongside lying crouched back in the bottom, looking deathly white as Morgan knelt by her, holding a handkerchief pressed to her shoulder.
“Now let me come,” said my father. “Are both your pieces loaded?”
“I have that charged, sir,” he said aloud. Then I heard him whisper, “You don’t think she’s very bad, do you, sir?”