“You bet it is!” whispered the Seminole, and the two, after sealing the bargain with a handclasp in the darkness, lay down again on the hard ground and fell asleep.
[CHAPTER VII—THE ATTEMPT]
The first faint rays of morning filtered through barred windows and there came a rattling of locks on the prison-house door.
“Up and out, you lazy dogs!” shouted a harsh voice.
The overseer’s whip cracked, bringing forth a scream from a weary wretch near him.
The slaves got to their feet and shuffled out of the evil-smelling place. Two of them, however, remained slumped on the floor. The overseer turned them over with his foot, then realized that these two would slave no more. He muttered a curse and followed the others into the square.
Here under the supervision of extra guards the slaves were drawn up in line. Bill, and the party who had arrived with him were unshackled and the woebegone crew was ordered to march on again.
Along the side of the square they stumbled, halted again at an open shed where a ship’s biscuit and a small crock of water were handed to each man as he filed past. The line of slaves swung round toward their prison house. Back there once more, they sank to the ground and partook of their morning meal. Bill noticed that files of other slaves were being herded out of buildings on the farther side of the square, toward the food shed.
“Knock the maggots out of your biscuit and soak it in the water,” advised Osceola, who was seated beside him. “You won’t find it fit to eat otherwise.”
Bill made a grimace. “I can’t eat this filthy stuff, Osceola. Why, it’s crawling with the beastly things.”