The Wreck of the Red Bird: A Story of the Carolina Coast

"I'll tell you what, Charley, we mustn't let that happen."

"How'll we help it?"

"Well, they won't try that till after they've made their attack on the fort. They'll simply tie Ned, and keep him till they're through with us, and so we have time to make a diversion in his favor. We've got to give them battle outside the fort. If we can drive them off we may find Ned. When he finds what's up he'll let us know where he is quickly enough."

"Yes, if he hasn't been carried too far away already," said Charley. "At any rate, we'll try. Where were the darkies when you saw them?"

"About two hundred yards away, in the woods near the shore."

"All right. Now let's remember that we've got to stick together, and that our object is to do not as much but as little fighting as necessary, and to get past the enemy if we can, and go on down the shore in search of Ned. We mustn't stop to do any unnecessary fighting."

"No, we'll try first to creep past without any fighting at all," said Jack.

Arming themselves with their best clubs the two boys crept out of the eastern gate and made their way as secretly as they could through the woods. They saw two of the squatters, but managed to slip past them without discovery, and when they had got well beyond them they made their way rapidly along the beach, calling Ned at the top of their voices and listening for his answer. At last they heard a shout in reply, but it seemed a long way off, and singularly enough it was in the direction of the camp. Turning around, they were filled with horror and amazement at what they saw. A great red blaze was shooting up from the camp.

"They're burning us out!" exclaimed Jack.

"Yes, and they must have Ned there with them. His shout came from that direction."

"Come, let's run with all our might. We may get there in time to save Ned at any rate!"

They ran like deer-hounds and were quickly at the burning camp.

They encountered three of the negroes just outside the camp, but coming upon them by surprise they were able to run past and to enter the gate before their enemies could lay hold of them. Once inside they fastened the gate log. As they did so and turned they discovered that they had caught one of their assailants – a negro boy not older than themselves – inside. This lad showed fight, but with two against him he was quickly secured, and tied with the boat's anchor rope.

Then Jack and Charley had time to see the extent of the mischief done. The stockade itself was uninjured, and thus far the boat also was safe, but the vat of tar was afire, and the bush hut in which the boys slept had either caught from the blazing tar or been set on fire by the negro boy. It was obviously too late to save the hut, even if the boys had been free to work upon it, as they were not, for the danger to the boat, which lay very near the fire and was already scorching, was too great to be trifled with. Jack managed to rescue the salt from the hut, and then he and Charley began wetting moss and laying it over the boat.

"This won't do, Jack," said Charley; "those rascals outside will make their way over the stockade if they aren't watched. Can't you keep the moss wet now?"

"Yes, I'll attend to that. You go to the platform at once. If you need me call out and I'll come."

Charley sprang to the platform, and was none too soon. The negroes outside, hearing the cries of their imprisoned companion, were already trying to make their way within the enclosure. One of them having climbed upon the shoulders of another, had taken hold of the top of the stockade, and in another second would have drawn himself up. In that case the boys would have had to encounter him on equal terms, and perhaps another squatter would have been over the wall by that time. Luckily the light from the burning tar revealed the situation to Charley in an instant. Running along the platform to the point of danger, he rapped the knuckles of the climber with a degree of violence which at once ended his climbing. He dropped to the ground as if his hands had been cut off at the wrists, and then Charley began offensive measures. Throwing his clubs one after another – for a large supply of them had been stored along the platform – he compelled the assailants to beat a retreat. They threw some sticks at him in return, but he managed to dodge them, and Jack joining him for a few minutes, the pair fairly drove the assailants off. Then Jack returned to his task of protecting the boat, while Charley, promenading all the way around the barrier, kept guard against surprises.

No further assault being made, and the fire gradually dying down until the boat was no longer in danger, Jack and Charley had time to think of Ned again, and their anxiety was intense.

"At least we've got a hostage," said Jack, "and perhaps poor Ned will be able to arrange for an exchange. At any rate I hope so. There must be some of them who can speak English, and, besides, Ned understands their jargon a little."

"Well, we'll hope for the best," said Charley, "but oughtn't we to make another effort to find Ned?"

"I don't see what we can do," said Jack. "They've carried him off by this time, and to follow in the dark would be useless."

"Yes, that's true. Listen! What was that?"

Jack listened, but could hear nothing.

"What did you hear?" asked he.

"I thought I heard Ned shout."

Jack gave a loud, long call, and then the two listened again. A shout in reply was this time distinctly heard.

"That's Ned," said Charley.

"Yes," answered Jack. "He's making all the trouble he can, I suppose, to delay their march and give us time to catch up. Come, Charley, we must rescue him."

Again the boys sallied out, this time through the western gate. They ran along the shore, stopping occasionally to halloo and to listen for Ned's replies, which came promptly now.

"They aren't getting on very fast with him," said Jack; "we're gaining on them at any rate."

Again the boys ran. When they made their next pause to shout, they were astonished to hear Ned cry out, in his natural voice, from no great distance:

"Is every thing burnt up?"

Strangely enough the voice seemed to come from the water on the right, and both Jack and Charley were bewildered by the fact.

"Where on earth are you?" called Jack.

"Here," answered Ned, "out here on the oyster reef."

The moon was near the zenith, and by carefully scanning the sea the boys could make out the figure of Ned, standing knee-deep in water, about fifty yards from shore. What to make of the situation they did not know.

"What are you doing out there, Ned?" cried Jack.

"I'm waiting for the tide to go down. Never mind me, but tell me about the fire. Did it burn the boat?"

"No, only the tar in the vat and our hut. The boat is safe, and so is the stockade."

"How did it catch fire?"

"Why, the squatters set it afire while we were out hunting for you."

"Have they been there, then?"

"Yes. Haven't they had you prisoner?"

"Not a bit of it. But don't stand there talking. Go back and take care of the camp. When the tide goes down I'll return. Hurry now, or those rascals will get in again and burn the boat."

"But what in the world – "

"Never mind that now. Go on to camp. You've no time to lose. I'll make explanations when I get there."

The necessity for hurrying back was plain enough, and so, without further delay, Jack and Charley started toward the camp at a brisk trot.

CHAPTER XX

A CALCULATION OF PROFIT AND LOSS

When they arrived at camp Jack and Charley found every thing as they had left it, except that their prisoner was gone. Examination showed that he had gnawed the rope with which he had been bound, and thus had set himself free.