Old Jack

by William Henry Giles Kingston

At first our guards were animated enough in their conversation; then their voices grew thicker and thicker, and their tones more drowsy and droning, till they could scarcely have understood what each other said. At last one began to snore, then another, and the last speaker found himself without auditors. I longed for him to hold his tongue, and to go to sleep, but talk on he would, though he had no listeners. This, I thought, was a good opportunity to allow me to speak to the captain, so I crawled up to him. He was awake, waiting for me.

“What’s to be done now, captain?” said I.

“We must wait the course of events, Jack,” he answered. “I have been turning over every plan in my mind which affords a chance of escape. If we were to start off now, we should certainly be caught by some of these black gentlemen; and if brought back, we should be put under stricter watch and ward than hitherto. Something may occur during the night, or perhaps to-morrow. At all events, I do not intend to die without a fight for it. Try and go to sleep now, and get some rest; you’ll want it for what you may have to go through. Go, lie down, lad; my advice is good. Don’t fear.”

I followed the captain’s advice, though it was difficult to go to sleep, and still more so not to fear. I did go to sleep, however, and never slept more soundly in my life. I was awoke by feeling a hand placed on my shoulder. It was that of the captain.

“Jack,” he whispered, “be prepared to follow me if I summon you, but not otherwise. If we can manage to get down the rock, or to cross the causeway without being seen, we will go; but if not, we must wait another opportunity. I do not feel as if either of us had come to the end of the cable yet, but how we are to get free I don’t know.”

Saying this the captain gently lifted up some of the leaves which formed the side of the hut, and crept out. His words and tone gave me great encouragement. I wished that I could have gone with him, but I knew that I must obey him.

O how anxiously I waited his return! Minute after minute passed away, and still he did not come back. I began to fear that some harm had happened to him—that he might have fallen over the precipice in the dark, or have been captured. It never for a moment occurred to me that he would desert me. An hour or more must have passed. Still he did not appear. I began to consider whether I could not creep out to search for him. I could have loosened from off me the ropes which bound my arms in an instant; but I did not want to do so unless I was prepared to run away altogether. I have heard of people’s hair turning grey in a night; mine would, I think, have done so with anxiety had I been older.

At last the side of the hut was lifted up, and the captain crawled in, and placed himself on the litter on which he had been brought to the place. “Quick, Jack,” he whispered, “put the ropes round me as they were before! Those blacks are more wide-awake rascals than I fancied. I have been most of the time lying down not twenty yards from the hut, afraid to move. I was creeping along when I saw a black fellow, with musket on shoulder, emerge from behind a hut. He stood for some time looking directly at me, as if he had seen me. He had not though; but directly afterwards he began pacing up and down with the steadiness of an old soldier. I crept on when his back was turned, but never could move far enough before he was about again, and scrutinising all the ground before him. The only direction in which I could move without the certainty of being seen was towards this spot, so back again I have come, with the hope still strong that we might find some other way of escaping. Once or twice I thought of springing up and killing the man; but in so doing I should very likely have roused others, and we should have lost any future chance of escaping.”

This result of the captain’s expedition put me into low spirits again, for I fully expected that the blacks would kill us all in the morning, and my only surprise was that they had not so done already. I did not say so to the captain, but he, having with his teeth secured the bands round my arms again, I went and sat down where the blacks had first placed me. I did not sleep soundly again, nor did he. I sat silent, anxiously waiting for the morning.

I think I must have gone off into a doze, when, before daybreak, I was roused up by a chorus of loud cries and shouts, which was soon answered by every man, woman, and child in the village, who came rushing out of their huts. It was to welcome, I found, a party of their comrades from an attack on one of the neighbouring estates, in which they had come off the victors, with numerous prisoners and much spoil. There began, as before, a horrible din of tom-toms and other musical instruments, mixed with the very far from musical voices of the old women who had been tormenting us. This continued till the sun rose, and then there was a comparative silence for an hour or so. I suppose the savages were breakfasting. An this time we were left in suspense as to what was to be our fate. We did not talk much, and, of course, did not allude to any plan for escaping, lest we should be overheard.