Chapter 13: The White Stallion

Shif’less Sol led the way through the forest and four ghostly figures followed in single file. They made no noise as they passed among the cypresses and magnolias, and oaks of the drooping foliage. No one spoke, but the leader laughed more than once in his throat, a laugh which never passed the lips, but which was full of satisfaction nevertheless. He felt that he, Solomon Hyde, nicknamed the shiftless one, had not lived in vain. He had achieved the greatest triumph of a life already crowded with dangers and deeds. To use the phrase of a later day, it was his crowded hour, and his four comrades gave him all the honor and glory of it.

They came presently to a still, dark channel of water, the bayou, and stopped on its bank. A light wind had risen, and as it blew among the cypresses and magnolias and oaks of the drooping foliage, it blew the song of the triumph of Shif’less Sol. The moonlight fell on his face now and as his features drew into a smile he, at last, permitted himself to laugh outright.

“It was wonderful, Sol,” said Henry. “We always knew that you were near us, and we knew, too, that because you were near us we were near to freedom.”

He stepped forward, grasped the hand of the shiftless one, and gave it a fervent shake. Paul at once did the same, then followed Long Jim and Tom Ross. Shif’less Sol’s face became beatific. He had received his silent tribute and it was enough. The flavor of it would be with him all the rest of his life.

“What did you fellers think?” he asked, “when them two big knives came fallin’ down on the floor. I’d hev called to you, but I wuz afeard I’d stir up them two sentinels on the other side of the house.”

“We knew it was you, Sol,” replied Paul, “and we knew then that our escape was certain. Where did you get the knives?”

“I stole them from a tool house,” replied Sol with pride. “I guess they use ‘em to cut cane with, or something like that.”

“We certainly cut dirt with ‘em at a great rate,” said Henry, “and here we are free, the five of us together again, but without arms except the two knives you threw to us.”

The moonlight was deepening and the shiftless one stood in the center of it. His figure seemed suddenly to swell and the calm, victorious light of the supreme conqueror came into his eyes.

“Boys,” he said, and his voice was even and precise, as a victor’s should be, “when I undertook this here job o’ settin’ us on our feet agin, I undertook to do it all. I not only meant to put us on our feet, but to git us ready fur runnin’, too. Boys, I hev took ‘The Gall-yun’ from the Spaniards ag’in an’ she’s waitin’ fur us.”

“What! what!” they cried in chorus. “You don’t mean it, Sol?”

“I shorely do mean it. All the boats that they expect to use to-day wuz anchored in the bi-yoo or hay-yoo or whatever they call it. ‘The Gall-yun,’ our gall-yun, wuz at the end o’ the line nearest to the big river. Nobody wuz on board, but she wuz tied to the boat next to her. I slipped on her--it was pow’ful dark then an’ the Spaniards wuz keepin’ a slip-shod watch, anyhow--cut the rope an’ floated her down the stream, where I’ve tied her up under sech thick brush that nobody ‘cept ourselves is likely to find her. She’ll be thar, waitin’ fur us, an’ don’t you doubt it. An’ fellers all our rifles an’ ammunition an’ things are on her. It wuz the captain’s boat, an’ I s’pose he thought he might ez well hev them trophies, an’ use ‘em.”

“Is this really true, Sol?” exclaimed Paul, although he did not doubt.

“Gospel truth. We’re jest ez well off ez we wuz afore we wuz captured. I don’t think, either, them Spaniards will miss ‘The Gall-yun’ until mornin’. So we kin be up an’ away with somethin’ o’ a start.”

“Lead on, Sol,” said Henry.

Sol led, and resumed the noiseless Indian file. They found the good ship, “The Galleon,” under the overhanging bushes where Sol had left her, and rejoicingly they took possession again of the boat, their arms, and supplies.

“Now for New Orleans and the Governor General,” said Paul, as they pushed out into the bayou. There was no current here, but their powerful arms at the oars soon sent the boat into the Mississippi. There they set the sail which had been left unchanged, and as a good wind caught it they went on at a quickening pace. Wind, current, and oars combined made the low banks pass swiftly by.

It was now the darkest hour and all things were veiled. Each felt a great satisfaction. They had the courage, after such a great and skillful escape, to attempt anything.

“It’s only lately that I’ve been gittin’ friendly with the Missip,” said Shif’less Sol. “It’s a pow’ful big river an’ a new one, but me an’ this river are already jest like brothers. It ought all to belong to us people o’ Kentucky. When we git to be a great big settled country, hev we got to float everything down it, right in among the Spaniards or the French, an’ they able to stop us ef they want to? ‘Pears to me thar oughtn’t to be anything but a string o’ free countries all along the length o’ this big river.”

“I think that is what is likely to happen,” said Paul looking into the future, as he did so often. “We’ll always be pressing down, and we can’t help it.”

“Anyhow,” resumed Shif’less Sol, “I’m glad that we’ve left that thar place o’ Booly, or Bee-yu-ly, or whatever they call it. Funny these furrin’ people can’t pronounce names like they spell. Now we Americans, an’ the English, who use our language, call words jest ez they are, but you never know what a Frenchman or a Spaniard is goin’ to make out o’ ‘em.”

They made good progress throughout the day, and saw no sign of the flotilla of Alvarez which they had feared might overtake them. They were agreed that it would be wise for them to reach New Orleans first, and hence they went boldly forward into the country that they regarded as that of the enemy, confident of their fortune.

The river widened and narrowed frequently, but always it was very deep. It was not beautiful here, but the vast current flowing between low shores had a somber majesty all its own. Its effect upon the imagination of every one of them was heightened by the knowledge that the stream had come an immeasurable distance, from unknown regions, and that in the coming it had gathered into itself innumerable other rivers, most of which also had come from lands of mystery.

They stopped one morning in the mouth of a clear creek that flowed into the Mississippi, and decided to spend the day in making repairs, a general cleaning-up, and a search for fresh food. It was the universal opinion that they would profit more by such a halt than by pushing on regardless of everything.

It was a beautiful spot in which they lay. They had gone about a hundred yards up the creek, and its waters here, about thirty feet across and five or six feet deep, were perfectly transparent. But this silver stream the moment it entered the Mississippi was lost in the great, brown current, swallowed up in an instant by the giant river.

The banks of the creek were low and on either side brilliant wild flowers grew to the very water’s edge. Ferns, lilies, and other plants of deeper hues, were massed in great beds that ran from the creek edges back to the forest. Tall birds on immensely long and slender legs stood in the shallower water and now and then as quick as a flash of lightning darted down a hooked bill. Invariably the bill came up with a fish struggling in its grasp.

Beautiful flamingoes hovered about the bank and many birds of brilliant plumage darted from tree to tree. Few of these sang, except the mocking bird, which gave forth an incessant mellow note. But it was a scene of uncommon peace and beauty and all felt its influence.

Henry looked at the creek and the forest through which it came with an appreciative eye. He knew because the waters of the creek were clear that it must flow through hard, firm ground, and he was thinking at that moment of a plan which he intended to carry out later.

Their first work was with the boat. In its long voyage on the river it had gathered mud and other objects on its bottom. This they could see perfectly now that it lay in the clear water, and Shif’less Sol and Jim Hart volunteered to scrape it with two of the shovels that were contained in the invaluable store house of “The Galleon.”

Their offer was accepted, and taking off their clothing, they sprang into the water. Once a huge cat fish from the Mississippi, unused to man, brushed against Long Jim’s leg, its horn raking him slightly. With a shout Long Jim sprang almost out of the water and clambered up the side of the boat.

“Somethin’ big bit me!” he cried. “It took one uv my legs with him!”

“It’s only a scared cat fish and you still have two legs, Jim,” replied Henry laughing boyishly, because a boy he was in spite of his size and experience.

Jim looked down, and a great smile of delight unfolded like a fan across his face from side to side.

“Guess you’re right, Henry,” he said, “an’ I am still all in one piece.”

He sprang back into the water, and he and Sol soon finished their task. After that it was arranged that Sol, Jim, and Tom should give a thorough furbishing to the boat’s interior, wash and dry their spare clothing and bedding, while Henry and Paul went on a hunt for a deer to replenish their larder.

“You see, Paul,” said Henry, “the waters of this creek are quite clear, which means that it comes through good, hard ground. It’s likely that it isn’t far back to one of the little prairies which I’ve heard are common in this part of Louisiana, and in a wild country like this where there’s a prairie there’s pretty likely to be deer.”

The logic seemed good to Paul. At any rate he was willing enough to go on a hunt, stretch his legs, and see a new region. Saying that they should probably be gone all day they started at once, leaving the others absorbed in the task of housecleaning.

They reached solid ground not far from the creek’s edge and walked along briskly, following the course of the stream back toward its source. The soil was black and deep and the forest magnificent. Great beeches and hickories were mingled with the willows and live oaks and cypresses, and the foliage was thick, green, and beautiful. The birds seemed innumerable, and now and then flocks of wild fowl rose with a whir from the creek’s edge. Keen, penetrating odors of forest and wild flower came to their nostrils.

Both boys threw up their heads, inhaled the odors, and thrilled in every fiber. They were very young, care could never stay with them long and now they felt only the sheer, pure delight of living. They looked back. The forest had already shut out their boat, and one who did not know would not have dreamed that the longest river in the world was only a mile or two away. They were alone in the wilderness and they did not care. They were sufficient, for the moment, each to the other.