Mass' George: A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah

by George Manville Fenn

His words were interpreted, and the Spanish officer said something hastily in reply.

“Says, sir, that he cannot take your hand, but respects you all the same.”

At that moment the Spaniards began firing, and this roused our men into replying, a sufficiently perilous position for the group between them, till the young officer ran towards his men, holding up his sword; but before the Spaniards had ceased our fire was silenced, for I saw the General run here and there, shouting angrily.

“That was a risky proceeding of yours, Preston,” said the General, as the colonel came back within the fence.

“Yes, sir; a foolish, undisciplined act,” replied the colonel; “but I felt carried away by the bravery of that young fellow, deserted as he was by his cowardly crew.”

“I cannot blame you,” said the General, “for I felt similarly moved.”

Little more was said, for every one was intent upon the proceedings of the enemy, who drew back about a hundred yards, and then formed up with military precision, apparently previous to making a determined advance together; but a full hour passed, and no advance was made. Two officers came ashore from the ship with ten more men, and we were all kept in a state of tension, momentarily expecting to have to defend ourselves against a desperate attack.

But none came, and soon after the whole force marched down to the boats and embarked, while a couple of hours later the ship was going slowly down the big river with the tide.

Now it might have been expected that on seeing this our men would have burst into a triumphant cheer, but they did not, but stood watching the ship in silence. For there seemed to be something too solemn for words or any display of exultation. Utterly worn out with fighting and watching, and feeling as if we had all been rescued from death, men moved about gravely and quietly, and I saw group after group where gentlemen and ordinary working men, old soldiers who had come out there to that pleasant land believing they had for ever turned their swords into shares and pruning-hooks, were seated holding the hands of their wives, and with their children on their knees, their heads bent, and the tears streaming down the women’s faces; and I know that a heartfelt thanksgiving went silently up to heaven that night for the escape we had all had.

But still there was the feeling of insecurity afloat, which caused the greatest precautions to be taken. The forest was not far distant, and for aught we knew the Indians might again come on.