Kitabı oku: «Ruth Fielding Down in Dixie; Great Times in the Land of Cotton», sayfa 8

CHAPTER XVIII – ACROSS THE RIVER

As the night shut down and the rain began again, the party at Holloway’s had paid no attention to the rising flood. But on the other side of the river the increasing depth of the water was narrowly watched.

“It’s the biggest rise she’s showed since Adam was a small boy!” Mr. Jimson declared. “Looks like she’d make a clean sweep of some of these bottomland farms below yere. Mr. Lomaine’s goin’ t’ lose cash-dollars befo’ she’s through kickin’ up her heels – yo’ take it from me!”

Mr. Jimson’s audience consisted of his immediate family – a wife, lank like himself, and six white-haired, lank children, like six human steps, from the little toddler, hanging to the table-cloth and so getting his balance, to a lank girl of fifteen or thereabouts. In addition, there was Curly Smith.

Curly had been taken right into the Jimson family when he had first come along on a flatboat, the crew of which had treated him so badly that he had left it and applied at the cotton warehouse for work. He worked every day beyond his strength, if the truth were told, and for very poor pay; but he was glad of decent housing.

The world had never used a runaway worse than it had used Curly. All the way down the river from Pee Dee – where his money had run out, and his transportation, too – the boy had been knocked about. And farther north, as Ruth Fielding and Helen knew, Curly Smith’s path had not been strewn with roses.

Therefore, if for no other reason, the boy who had run away to escape arrest, would have remained with Mr. Jimson. The latter’s rough good nature seemed the friendliest thing Curly had ever known; but he was scared when he recognized Ruth and Helen and knew that they were the “little Miss Yanks” of whom he had heard the cotton warehouse boss speak.

Here were two girls who knew him – knew him well when he was at home – right in the very part of Dixie in which unwise Curly Smith had taken refuge. Curly had no idea while coming down on the New Union Line boat to Norfolk, that Ruth and Helen were aboard; nor had he recognized Helen when he went to her rescue at the City Park zoo when the stag had so startled her.

In the first place, he did not know that any of the Briarwood Hall girls who had made their home with his grandmother for a few weeks in the spring, had any intention of coming down to the Land of Cotton for a part of their summer vacation.

It was a distinct shock to Curly when he brought the half-drowned cat ashore that afternoon, to see Ruth and Helen as the guests of Nettie Parsons. He did not know that the girls recognized him; but he was quite sure they would see him if he continued to linger in the vicinity.

Therefore, Curly’s mind was more taken up with plans for getting away from Mr. Jimson than it was with the boss’ remarks about the rising river. Not until some time after supper one of the children ran in with the announcement that there was a “big fire acrosst the river” was the boy shaken out of his secret ponderings.

“That’s got t’ be the hotel, I’ll be whip-sawed if ’taint!” declared Mr. Jimson, starting out into the now drizzling rain without his hat.

Curly followed, because the rest of the family showed interest; but he really did not care. What was a burning hotel to him? Then he heard Mrs. Jimson say:

“Ye don’t mean that’s Holloway’s, Jimson?”

“That’s what she be.”

“And the bridge is down by this time.”

“Sho’s yo’ bawn, Almiry. An’ boats swep’ away, too.”

“An’ like enough the water’s clean up over that islan’. My land, Jimson! that’ll be dretful. Them folks is all caught like rats in a trap. Treed by the river – an’ the hotel afire.”

“It looks like the up-river end of the hotel,” said her husband.

“My land! what’ll Mrs. Parsons say? If anything happens to her niece an’ them other gals – ”

“I’ll be whip-sawed! them little Miss Yanks is right there, ain’t they?”

At that, Curly Smith woke up. “Say!” he cried. “Are Ruth Fielding and Helen Cameron at that hotel that’s afire?”

“Huh?” demanded Jimson. “Them little Miss Yanks?”

“Yes.”

“If they stuck to Miss Nettie, they are,” agreed the warehouse boss. “And Jeffreys said he left ’em there, when he come back jest ‘fo’ supper.”

“Those girls in that burning building?” repeated Curly. “Say, Mr. Jimson! you aren’t going to stand here and do nothing about it, are you?”

“Wal! what d’ye reckon we kin do?” asked the man, scratching his head in a puzzled way. “There’s more’n we-uns over there to rescue the ladies.”

“And the river up all around them? And no boats?” demanded Curly.

“Sho’! I never thought of that,” admitted the man. “Here’s this old bateau yere – ”

“Can you and me row it?” asked Curly, sharply.

“Great grief! No!” exclaimed Jimson. “Not in a thousand years!”

“Can’t we get some of the colored men to help?”

“I reckon we could. The hotel’s more’n a mile below yere on the other side and we might strike off across the river slantin’ and hit the island,” Jimson said slowly.

“Le’s try it, then!” cried the excited boy. “I’ll run stir up the negroes – shall I?”

“Better let me do that,” said Jimson, with more firmness. “Almiry! gimme my hat. If we kin do anything to help ’em – ”

“Oh, Paw! look at them flames!” cried one of the children.

The fire seemed to shoot up suddenly in a pillar of flame and smoke. It had burst through the upper floor of the cottage and was now writhing out the chimney; but from this side of the river it still seemed to be the hotel itself that was ablaze.

Curly had forgotten his idea of running away – for the present, at least. He remembered what a “good sport” (as he expressed it) Ruth Fielding was, and how she and her chum might be in danger across there at Holloways.

If the hotel burned, where would the people go who were in it? With the river rising momentarily, and threatening every small structure along its banks with destruction, and no boats at hand, surely the situation of the people in the hotel must be serious.

Curly went down to the edge of the water and found the big bateau. There were huge sweeps for it, and four could be used to propel the craft, while a fifth was needed to steer with.

The boy got these out and arranged everything for the start. When Jimson came back with four lusty negroes – all hands from the warehouse and gin-house – Curly was impatiently waiting for them. The fire across the river had assumed greater proportions.

“That ain’t the hotel, boss,” said one of the negroes, with assurance.

“What is it, then?” demanded Jimson.

“It’s got t’ be the cottage dishyer side ob the hotel. But, fo’ goodness’ sake! de hotel’s gwine t’ burn, too.”

“And all them folkses in hit!” groaned another.

“Shut up and come on!” commanded Jimson. “We’ll git acrosst and see what’s what.”

“If we kin git acrosst,” grumbled another of the men. “Looks mighty spasmdous t’ me. Dat watah’s sho’ high.”

But Curly was casting off the mooring, and in a moment the big, clumsy boat swung out into the current.

CHAPTER XIX – “IF AUNT RACHEL WERE ONLY HERE!”

As soon as they were sure Mrs. Holloway had quite recovered from her fainting spell, Ruth Fielding and Helen wished to get as far away from the fire as possible.

There was nothing they could do, of course, to help put out the blaze. Nor did it seem possible for the men who had come from the ballroom to do anything towards extinguishing the fire. The flames were spreading madly through the interior of the cottage; but they had not as yet burst through the walls or the roof.

The cottage had not been torn from its foundation, although it had been sadly shaken. If it fell it might not endanger the hotel, for it was plain that what little cant had been given to the burning house was away from the larger building, not toward it.

Ruth and Helen had wet their feet already; but they did not care to slop through the puddle on the porch again, so made their way to the ballroom through the main part of the house. There was less noise among the frightened women and girls now than before; but they were huddled into groups, some crying with fear of they did not know what!

“Oh! is the house tumbling down?” asked one frightened woman of Ruth. “Must we drown?”

“Not unless we want to, I am sure, madam,” said the girl of the Red Mill, cheerfully.

“But isn’t the house afire?” cried another.

“It isn’t this house, but another, that is burning,” the Northern girl said, with continued placidity.

“Oh, Ruth! there’s Nettie!” exclaimed Helen, and drew her away.

In a corner was Nettie Parsons, crouched upon a stool, and the girls expected to find her in tears. But the little serving maid, Norma, had run to her and was now kneeling on the floor with her face hidden in Nettie’s lap.

“The po’ foolish creature,” sighed Nettie, when the chums reached her, a soothing hand upon the shaking black girl’s head. “She is just about out of her head, she’s so scared. I tell her that the Good Lo’d won’t let harm come to us; but she just can’t help bein’ scared.”

Nettie’s drawl made Helen laugh. But Ruth was proud of her. The Southern girl had forgotten to be afraid herself while she comforted her little servant.

There was nothing one could do but speak a comforting word now and then. Ruth was glad that Helen took the matter so cheerfully. For, really, as the girl of the Red Mill saw it, there was not yet any reason for being particularly worried.

“In time of peace prepare for war, however,” she said to the other girls. “We may have to leave the hotel in a hurry. Let us go upstairs to the rooms we were to occupy, and pack our bags again, and bring them down here with us. Then if they say we must leave, we shall be ready.”

“But how can we leave?” demanded Helen. “By boat?”

“Maybe. Goodness! if we only had a boat we could get back across the river and walk to the Big House.”

“Oh! I wish we were there now,” murmured Nettie.

“I wish you had your wish!” exclaimed Helen. “But we’ll do as Ruth says. Maybe we’ll get a chance to leave the place.”

For Helen had been quite as much disturbed by the appearance of Miss Miggs as Ruth had been. She, too, saw that the woman’s accusation had made an impression upon the mind of her cousin, Mrs. Holloway.

“I hope we get out before there is trouble over that horrid woman’s ticket. Who would have expected to meet her here?” said Helen to her chum.

“No more than we expected to meet Curly at Merredith,” Ruth returned.

They went upstairs, Norma, the little maid, keeping close to them. Helen declared the negress was so scared that she was gray in the face.

They heard a group of men talking on the stairs. They were discussing the pros and cons of the situation. Nobody seemed to have any idea as to what should be done. A more helpless lot of people Ruth Fielding thought she had never seen before.

But after all, the girls from the North did not understand the situation exactly. There was nothing one could do to stop the rising flood. There were no means of transporting the people from the island to the higher land across the narrow creek. And all around the hotel, save at the back, the water was shoulder deep.

The rough current and the floating debris made venturing into the water a dangerous thing, as well. The fire next door could not be put out; so there seemed nothing to do but to wait for what might happen.

This policy of waiting for what might turn up did not suit Ruth Fielding, of course. But there was nothing she could do just then to change matters for the better. The suggestion she had made about packing the bags was more to give her friends something to do, and so take their minds off the peril they were in, than aught else.

There were other people on the second floor, and as the girls went into their rooms they heard somebody talking loudly at the other end of the hall. At the moment they paid no attention to this excited female voice.

Ruth set the example of immediately returning her few possessions to her bag and preparing to leave the room at once. Her chum was ready almost as soon; but they had to help Nettie and the maid. The former did not know what to do, and the frightened Norma was perfectly useless.

“I declare! I won’t take this useless child with me anywhere again,” said Nettie. “Goodness me!” she continued, pettishly, to the shaking maid, “have you stolen the silver spoons that your conscience troubles you so?”

But nothing could make Norma look upon the situation less seriously. When the girls came out of the door into the hall, bags in hand, Ruth was first. Immediately the high, querulous voice broke upon their ears again, and now the girls from the North recognized it.

“There! they’ve been in one of your rooms!” cried the sharp voice of Miss Miggs. “You’d better go and search ’em and see what they’ve stolen now.”

“Hush, Martha!” exclaimed Mrs. Holloway.

Ruth turned with flaming cheeks and angry eyes. Her temper at last had got the better of her discretion.

“I believe you are the meanest woman whom I ever saw!” she exclaimed, much to Helen’s delight. “Don’t you dare say Helen and I touched your railroad ticket. I – I wish there were some means of punishing you for accusing us the way you do. I don’t blame your scholars for treating you meanly – if they did. I don’t see how you could expect them to do otherwise. Nobody could love such a person as you are, I do believe.”

“Three rousing cheers!” gasped Helen under her breath, while Nettie Parsons looked on in open-mouthed amazement.

“There! you hear how the minx dares talk to me,” cried Miss Miggs, appealing to the ladies about her.

Besides Mrs. Holloway, there were three or four others. Miss Miggs was dressed now and looked more presentable than she had when endeavoring to escape from the hotel in her raincoat and slippers.

“I – I don’t understand it at all,” confessed the hotel proprietor’s wife. “Surely, my cousin would not accuse these girls without some reason. She is from the North, too, and must understand them better than we do.”

No comment could have been more disastrous to the peace of mind of Ruth and Helen. The latter uttered a cry of anger and Ruth could scarcely keep back the tears.

“Perhaps we had better look out for our possessions,” said one of the other ladies, doubtfully.

“Yes. They did just come out of one of these rooms,” said another.

“Oh! these are the rooms they were to occupy,” cried Mrs. Holloway, all in a flutter. “I – I do not think they would do anything – ”

“Say!” gasped Nettie, at last finding voice. “I want to know what yo’-all mean? Yo’ can’t be speaking of my friends?”

“Who is this girl, I’d like to know!” exclaimed Miss Miggs. “One just like them, no doubt.”

“Oh, Martha! Mrs. Parsons’ niece,” gasped Mrs. Holloway. “Mrs. Parsons will never forgive me.”

“Gracious heavens!” gasped one of the other women. “You don’t mean to say that these are the girls from Merredith?”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Holloway. “Of course, nobody believes that Miss Parsons would do any such thing; but these other girls are probably merely school acquaintances – ”

“I should like to know,” said Nettie, with sudden firmness, “just what you mean – all of you? What have Ruth and Helen done?”

“They stole my railroad ticket on the boat coming down from New York,” declared Miss Martha Miggs.

“That is not so!” said Nettie, quickly. “Under no circumstances would I believe it. It is impossible.”

“Do you say that my cousin does not tell the truth?” asked Mrs. Holloway, stiffly, while Miss Miggs herself could only stammer angry words.

“Absolutely,” declared Nettie, her naturally pale cheeks glowing. “I am amazed at you, Mrs. Holloway. I know Aunt Rachel will be offended.”

“But my own cousin tells me so, and – ”

“I do not care who tells you such a ridiculous story,” Nettie interrupted, and Ruth and Helen were surprised to see how dignified and assertive their usually timid friend could be when she was really aroused.

“Ruth Fielding and Helen Cameron are above such things. They are, besides, guests at Merredith, and we were put in your care, Mrs. Holloway, and when you insult them you insult my aunt. Oh! if Aunt Rachel were only here, she could talk to you,” concluded Nettie, shaking all over she was so angry. “And she would, too!”

CHAPTER XX – CURLY PLAYS AN HEROIC PART

Mrs. Rachel Parsons’ name was one “to conjure with,” as the saying goes. Ruth and Helen had marked that fact before. Not alone in the vicinity of Merredith plantation, but in the cities and towns through which the visitors had come in reaching the cotton farm, they had observed how impressive her name seemed.

Several of the ladies who had been listening avidly to Miss Miggs’ declaration that she had been robbed, now hastened to disclaim any intention of offending Mrs. Parsons’ niece and her friends.

But the angry Nettie was not so easily pacified. She was actually in tears, it was true, but, as Helen said, “as brave as a little lioness!” In the cause of her school friends she could well hold her own with these scandal-mongers.

“I am surprised that anybody knowing my aunt should believe for a moment such a ridiculous tale as this woman utters,” Nettie said, flashing an indignant glance about the group.

“It is self-evident that if Aunt Rachel invites anybody to her home, that the person’s character is above reproach. That is all I can say. But I know very well that she will say something far more serious when she hears of this.

“Come, Ruthie and Helen. Let us go downstairs. I am sorry I cannot take you immediately home. But be sure that, once we are away from Holloway’s, we shall never come here again.”

“Oh, Miss Nettie!” gasped the hotel keeper’s wife. “I did not mean – ”

“You will have to discuss that point with Aunt Rachel,” said Nettie, firmly, yet still wiping her eyes. “I only know that I will take Ruthie and Helen nowhere again to be insulted. As for that woman,” she flashed, as a Parthian shot at Miss Miggs, “I think she must be crazy!”

The girls descended the stairs. At the foot Nettie put her arms about Ruth’s neck and then about Helen’s, and kissed them both. She was not naturally given to such displays of affection; but she was greatly moved.

“Oh, my dears!” she cried. “I would not have had this happen for anything! It is terrible that you should be so insulted – and among our own people. Aunt Rachel will be perfectly wild!”

“Don’t tell her, then,” urged Ruth, quickly. “That woman will not be allowed to say anything more, it is likely; so let it blow over.”

“It cannot blow over. Not only did she insult you, and her cousin allowed her to do so, but their attitude insulted Aunt Rachel. Why! there is not a person in this hotel the equal of Aunt Rachel. The Merrediths are the best known family in the whole county. How Mrs. Holloway dared– ”

“There, there!” said Ruth, soothingly. “Let it go. Neither Helen nor I are killed.”

“But your reputations might well be,” Nettie said quickly.

“Nobody knows us much here – ”

“But they know Aunt Rachel. And I assure you they will hear about this matter in a way they won’t like. The Holloways especially. She’d better send that crazy woman packing back to the North.”

At that moment a shout arose from the front veranda. The girls, followed by Norma screaming in renewed fright, ran to the door. The water was still over the flooring of the veranda, but it had not advanced into the house.

The group of excited men on the porch were pointing off into the river. Out there it was very dark; but there was a light moving on the face of the troubled waters.

“A boat is coming!” explained somebody to the girls. “That’s a lantern in it. A boat from across the river.”

“A steamboat?” cried Helen.

“Oh, no; a steamboat would not venture to-night – if at all. And there is none near by. It’s a bateau of some kind.”

“Bet it’s the old bateau from the cotton warehouse across there,” said another of the men. “Jimson is trying to reach us.”

“And what can he do when he gets here?” asked a third. “That burning house is bound to fall this way. Then we’ll have to fight fire for sure!”

“Well, Holloway has a bucket brigade all ready,” said the first speaker. “With all this water around, it’s too bad if we can’t put a fire out.”

The fire was illuminating all the vicinity now, for the flames had burst through the roof. The whole of one end of the cottage was in a blaze, and the wall of the hotel nearest to it was blistering in the heat.

The hotel proprietor stood there with his helpers watching the blaze. But the girls watched the approaching boat, its situation revealed by the bobbing lantern.

“If that is Mr. Jimson,” said Helen, “I hope he can take us back across the river.”

“And he shall if it’s safe,” Nettie said, with confidence. “But my! the water’s rough.”

“Oh, Miss Nettie! Miss Nettie!” groaned Norma. “Yo’ ain’ gwine t’ vencha on dat awful ribber, is yo’?”

“Why not, you ridiculous creature?” demanded her mistress. “If you are afraid to stay here, and afraid to go in the boat, what will you do?”

“Wait till it dries up!” wailed the darkey maid. “Den we kin walk home, dry-shod – ya-as’m!”

“Wait for the river to dry up, and all?” chuckled Helen.

“That’s what she wants,” said Nettie. “I never saw such a foolish girl.”

The bobbing lantern came nearer. Just as it reached the edge of the submerged island, there arose a shout from the men aboard of her. Then sounded a mighty crash.

“Hol’ on, boys! hol’ on!” arose the voice of Mr. Jimson. “Don’t lose yo’ grip! Pull!”

But the negroes could not pull the water-logged boat. She had struck a snag which ripped a hole in her bottom, and had been rammed by a log at the same time. The bateau was a wreck in a few seconds.

The six members of the crew, including the boss and Curly Smith, leaped overboard as the bateau sank. They had brought the boat so far, after a terrific fight with the current, only to sink her not twenty yards from the front steps of the hotel!

“Throw us a line – or a life-buoy!” yelled Jimson. “This yere river is tearin’ at us like a pack o’ wolves. Ain’t yo’ folks up there got no heart?”

One of the negroes uttered a wild yell and went whirling away down stream, clinging to a timber that floated by. Two others managed to climb into the low branches of a tree.

But Jimson, the fourth negro, and Curly Smith struck out for the hotel. After all, Curly was the best swimmer. Jimson would have been carried past the end of the hotel and down the current, had not the Northern boy caught him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to the steps.

There he left the panting boss and plunged in again to bring the negro to the surface. This fellow could not swim much, and was badly frightened. The instant he felt Curly grab him, he turned to wind his arms about the boy.

The lights burning on the hotel porch showed all this to the girls. Ruth and Helen, already wet half-way to their knees, had ventured out on the porch again in their excitement. Ruth screamed when she saw the danger Curly was in.

The boy had helped save Mr. Jimson; but the negro and he were being swept right past the hotel porch. They must both sink and be drowned if somebody did not help them – and no man was at hand.

“Take my hand, Helen!” commanded Ruth. “Maybe I can reach them. Scream for help – do!” and she leaned out from the end of the veranda, while her chum clung tightly to her left wrist.

The boy and the negro came near. The water eddied about the porch-end and held them in its grasp for a moment.

It was then that Ruth stooped lower and secured a grip upon the black man’s sleeve. She held on grimly while her chum shrieked for help. Jimson came staggering along to their aid.

“Hold on t’ him, Miss Ruth!” he cried. “We’ll git him!”

But if it had depended upon the spent warehouse boss to rescue the boy and his burden, they would never have been saved. Two of the men at the other end of the porch finally heard Helen and Nettie and came to help.

“Haul that negro in,” said one, laughing. “Is he worth saving, Jimson?”

“I ‘spect so,” gasped the boss of the cotton warehouse. “But I know well that that white boy is. My old woman sho’ wouldn’t ha’ seen me ag’in if it hadn’t been fo’ Curly. I was jes’ about all in.”

So was Curly, as the girls could see. When the boy was dragged out upon the porch floor, and lay on his back in the shallow water, he could neither move nor speak. The men tried to raise him to his feet, but his left leg doubled under him.

It was Ruth who discovered what was the matter. “Bring him inside. Lay him on a couch. Don’t you see that the poor boy has broken his leg?” she demanded.