I do not remember much more about the feast. The negroes ate, and drank, and laughed, and then got up and danced and sang as merrily as if they had not just been the principal actors in a terrific tragedy. Before the feast was over, our old acquaintance the tall negro came up to the captain, and sat himself down by his side.
“Prepare to leave this at a moment’s notice,” said he in a low tone of voice. “These people’s tempers may change again as rapidly against you as they have lately turned in your favour. They believed what I told them of your generosity; but as there is no one here to corroborate the account, they might as easily be taught to discredit it.”
“Thanks, my friend,” answered the captain, grasping the negro’s hand. “Thanks, Michael; you have indeed repaid any debt you might have thought you owed me. I’ll follow your advice, and shall be ready to start whenever you give the sign.”
“Directly it is dark, then, we must away, you and your young follower there,” answered the tall negro, whom the captain addressed as Michael. “I have another reason for wishing to be off. This work they have been about will certainly bring the military up here; and though they might hold the place against an army if they knew how, none of them can be depended on. Now, if you remain here, our friends would expect you to fight for them; and if you were captured by the white men, you would to a certainty be treated as a rebel.”
“Your arguments are quite strong enough, Michael, to make me wish to be off,” answered the captain, laughing. I did not hear the remainder of the conversation.
The young negroes who had carried me about on their shoulders continued to treat me very kindly, and brought me all sorts of things to eat, till really I could not stuff in a mouthful more. They were much amused by examining my hands, and face, and clothes, for many of them till that day had never seen a white boy. They had been born up in the mountainous district, where we then were, and where no white person had ever ventured to come.
At last the negro Michael called the captain and me, and in the hearing of the people, pointing to a hut, told us that it was to be our home. The whole population having had plenty of work for the last few days, retired to their huts, and left us in quiet. As may be supposed, neither the captain nor I ventured to sleep, though, for my part, I would very gladly have done so. We waited for some time with no little anxiety. It was at last relieved by the appearance of Michael.
“Come,” he whispered, “follow me. I could only ask seamen to take the path by which I must lead you.” He glided out, and we stepped after him.
There was no moon, but the stars shone forth brightly, and gave us sufficient light to see what was near at hand. Michael led the way close to the spot where our companions had been murdered in the morning. On a sudden he disappeared, and I thought that he had fallen over the precipice. A pang shot through me. But no, he had merely begun to descend by a narrow path cut in the rock. It was indeed both narrow and steep. Sometimes we had to drop down several feet to a ledge below. There were probably holes in the rock by which people might ascend, but it was too dark to see them. Often we had to press along with our breasts to the precipice, holding on to its rugged sides, and with our backs over a yawning gulf. I would rather, however, have been on the topsail-yard-arm in the heaviest gale that ever blew: with a good honest rope in my hand, than where I then was. But darkness prevented our seeing half its terrors. More than once I thought that I should have gone over; but the captain, whose steps I closely followed, supported me with his powerful arm, and brought me along in safety. He did not utter a word, and his breath often came fast, as if he was undergoing great physical exertion, and was well aware of our perilous position. I know that my knees trembled beneath me when Michael told us that we had reached the bottom.
“We have gained some miles by this path towards the sea,” said he, “and escaped the risk of being observed. Few even of the people up there know the path, and fewer still would venture to descend by it. Now, let us on; we have many miles to go before morning.”