I did not miss him. He fell to the shot with a demoniac howl; and as the smoke thinned off, I could see him writhing and scrambling in the black mud!
I hesitated whether to give him the second barrel—for I was angry and desired his life—but at this moment noises reached me from behind. I heard the plunging paddle, with the sounds of a manly voice; and turning, I beheld the Bambarra.
The latter had shot the pirogue among the tree-tops close to where we stood, and with voice and gesture now urged us to get aboard.
“Quick, mass’. Quick, ’Rore gal! jump into de dugout! Jump in! Truss Ole Gabe!—he stand by young mass’ to de deff!”
Almost mechanically I yielded to the solicitations of the runaway—though I now saw but little chance of our ultimate escape—and, having assisted Aurore into the pirogue, I followed and took my seat beside her.
The strong arm of the negro soon impelled us far out from the shore; and in five minutes after we were crossing the open lake toward the cypress clump in its midst.