The Golden Pool : a Story of a Forgotten Mine
Copyright© 2024 by R. Austin Freeman
I Again Become a Fugitive
The next few days presented little to chronicle. Life under the new conditions was monotonously uncomfortable, but not distressing to me, whatever it may have been to the less robust slaves.
We walked, with but few halts, from a little after sunrise to a little before sunset; we slept as much as our discomforts would let us, and we ate all that we could get—which was mighty little. Day after day we tramped on through what appeared to be an interminable orchard, which was so bare and shadeless that I was thankful for the burden that protected me from the sun. For at this season of the year, all the trees were leafless, and every blade of grass had been devoured by animals, so that the country had a most desolate aspect, and it was quite a relief to enter the narrow band of green forest that fringed the banks of the rivers.
It will readily be supposed that during this time I gave no little thought to my future prospects. At first I had been glad enough to be carried away so rapidly from the dangerous neighbourhood of the mine and the search parties of the fetish-men; but now I began to consider whether I had so greatly improved my position—whether, if I had not actually jumped out of the frying pan into the fire, I had not at least jumped out of the fire into the frying pan. For if it was impossible for an African to escape from slavery, it might prove also impossible to me, in which case the prospect was not encouraging; and I brought all my wits to bear, as well as Aminé’s chatter would allow me, on the problem of how to get away from the caravan before I was finally sold to some private owner. I was, however, unable to think of any scheme that had the faintest shadow of feasibility. By day we were all continuously under the eyes of the slave dealers, and at night, although I was not cruelly bound, yet my hands and feet were too securely fastened to allow of my breaking my bonds.
On the third day of our march we passed a little distance from the great mart of Kantámpo, and I then observed that our conductors, no doubt for excellent reasons of their own, were avoiding the main caravan road, and travelling by a little-frequented by-path.
On the evening of the fifth day we encamped on the bank of a large and noble-looking river fully as wide as the Thames at Richmond, which one of the slaves recognised as the Firráo, or Volta; and early next morning our leaders commenced preparations for crossing.
First an advance guard of Hausas was sent over in the huge, flat-bottomed canoe that formed the ferry boat; then the rope (which consisted of lengths of a few fathoms each, knotted together) was untied, and the slaves divided up into gangs of ten, each gang being sent across separately in charge of a guard; and when all the slaves had been carried to the farther bank, the leaders of the caravan followed with the horse.
The greater part of the morning was consumed by the crossing of the river, and by the time we got on the road it was within an hour of noon. To make up for the delay, the caravan pushed on at greater speed than ordinary, so that when we at last halted for the night, we were more tired than we usually were, although we had covered less ground, having travelled not more than twelve or thirteen miles. This part of the country appeared to be as thinly populated as that south of the great river, for in the day’s march we passed but a single village—a queer little collection of circular huts with high, thatched roofs like candle extinguishers.
After we had consumed our meagre supper and settled down for the night, I lay awake for a long time, gloomily meditating on my position. The passage of this great river had raised another barrier between me and freedom, and every day I was being carried farther and farther into the unknown regions of the interior, from which escape would become more difficult with every mile that I travelled. Was it, after all, to be my destiny to spend the remainder of my life hoeing yams or cutting wood for some negro master far from the sights and sounds of the civilised world?
I was aroused from these reflections by a soft poke in the back, and turning over, perceived that Aminé had shuffled towards me as far as the rope would allow her to, and had touched me with her outstretched fingers.
“Yúsufu!” she whispered, as I turned, “come nearer. I want to talk to thee.”
“Hast thou not talked enough to-day, thou babbler?” I exclaimed impatiently. “Go to sleep now, and give thy tongue a little rest.”
“Nay, but I have something to tell thee,” she persisted. “Come near and listen.”
I shuffled a couple of feet nearer to her.
“Now say what thou hast to say quickly,” I said gruffly, “for the night is passing, and we have to march at daybreak.”
“It is true, Yúsufu,” she said earnestly. “To-day we have crossed the great river. To-morrow or the next day we shall come to Sálaga. There we are all to be sold, if any will buy us, and then we shall be taken away, who knows whither? and you and I, Yúsufu, will never see one another again.”
This was rather startling and unpleasant news.
“In two days, thou sayest, we shall be there?” I said.
“Yes; or perhaps to-morrow night,” she replied; and then she added in a low but emphatic whisper, “Yúsufu, thou must get thee away to-night.”
“Must get me away!” I exclaimed. “It is well to talk of getting away; but how?”
“I thought of a way,” she answered. “Listen! When we crossed the stream this afternoon, I felt something hard stick in the sole of my sandal against my foot, and all the afternoon I could not kick it out. When I lay down, I picked it out with my fingers and kept it. It is a little piece of broken shell, and one edge is quite sharp like a knife. Now, thy manacles and the fetters on thy ankles are of cord, not iron like ours, and I doubt not that I can cut through them with the piece of shell. Then thou canst easily untie thy halter from the rope, and so wilt be free; and if thou goest far enough before the morning, they will never catch thee again.”
I pondered. It sounded a good and feasible plan, and it was apparently my last chance.
“But what about thee, Aminé?” I asked. “Thy fetters are of iron.”
“Alas! yes,” she replied sadly. “There is nothing to be done for me. I must go to the market, and be sold like the rest; but I shall be glad to think that thou at least art free.”
I was deeply touched by the girl’s unselfish thought for me, and profoundly reluctant to go away and leave her in the hands of the slave dealers; but it would be utter folly to allow mere sentiment to influence me in so momentous a matter, especially as the caravan would be broken up in a few days, and the slaves scattered abroad like a drove of beasts at a cattle fair.
“If thou canst set me free,” said I, “I shall be thankful indeed; yet I am loth to go and leave thee here.”
“I am loth to stay,” she answered bitterly, “but it matters less to me than it would to thee, for servitude is the lot of a woman. But perhaps the shell will not cut thy bonds after all; put out thy hands, and let me try.”
I thrust forward my hands and strained the connecting cords—which were only a couple of inches long—as tight as I could, while she sawed away with the little fragment of shell. In a few minutes it began to be evident that the scheme would be successful, for strand after strand frayed out and parted, until at length I was able with a powerful wrench to snap those that remained.
With my free hands I at once set to work upon the complicated knot by which my halter was tied to the rope, while Aminé sawed at the cords that confined my ankles, and almost at the same moment that I cast off the end of the halter from its fastening, I felt the last strand of my fetters give way.
“Now thou art free!” exclaimed Aminé, taking my hand for a moment in both of hers and looking earnestly into my face. “Go back by the road that we came by, and do not loiter on the way; for if thou goest far enough before the morning they cannot stay to follow thee. Now go quickly!” She pressed my hand, and then, suddenly turning her back to me, lay down and covered her face with her hands.
I rose to my feet and stretched my arms with great enjoyment whilst I took a survey of the camp.
The new moon was just setting, and by the dim light I could barely distinguish the prostrate forms of the slaves extended in a long row, and the vague shapes of the huts.
In various parts of the camp the dull glow of the waning fires was yet visible, and around the one at our end, the sleeping guards lay coiled up on their mats. I stepped lightly across to them, setting down each foot as I trod with the extremest caution, and examined them as they lay, each wrapped in a warm bernùs, and breathing heavily, keeping their vigil in the most approved African fashion, until I came to Maháma; and there I found what I was in search of, for, beside him on his mat, were deposited a fine, brass-hilted sword and the long, heavy knife that he had taken from me.
The sword was of no use to me, but I picked up the knife joyfully and crept, in the same silent, stealthy manner, back to Aminé, whom I found lying on her face sobbing silently but bitterly.
“Aminé,” I whispered, “I am going to take thee with me.”
She turned quickly with a gesture of impatience.
“Go away!” she exclaimed in a hoarse whisper. “It is impossible; thou art wasting precious time. Go!”
I took the rope where it was tied on to the ring of her collar and cut it through, and as she still refused to rise, I stuck the knife through the strip of rag that was tied round my loins, took her up in my arms, and, hoisting her on to my shoulder like a sack, strode away out of the camp along the path by which we had approached it.
The moon had now set, and the night was pitch dark, so that although the country was moderately open, it was difficult to avoid straying from the path; and Aminé, who though but of medium height was a strapping, solidly-built woman, formed a burden sufficiently heavy to tax the strength of a stronger man than me. In fact, I had not gone a quarter of a mile before I had to set her down and rest, when she again entreated me to hurry away and leave her.
While we were resting I explored the key holes of her fetters with my fingers, and finding that they were made so as to be unfastened by a key with a screw end, I determined to try if I could force them. For this purpose I groped among the trees and cut off a small branch, which I trimmed with my knife to a blunt point. This point I thrust forcibly into the hole and rotated it until the wood jammed into the thread of the screw-hole, when by giving it a few more turns, to my delight and Aminé’s amazement, the ankle clasp fell open. This manœuvre I repeated with the other three clasps with such success that, in a short time, I was able to remove the manacles and leg fetters, and Aminé stood up, hardly able to believe the evidence of her senses, and nearly wild with joy.
We flung the fetters away among the trees, and, leaving the iron collar to be operated on by daylight, set off along the path at a run to make up for the time that had been consumed by these labours; but presently we settled down, as our excitement somewhat subsided, into a brisk walk, covering the ground at an astonishing pace notwithstanding the darkness.
It was probably near midnight when we started, and we walked on, with gradually diminishing speed but without a halt, until the first streaks of dawn began to appear in the sky behind us, and our shadows spread out before us, attenuated and gigantic caricatures.
The pale daybreak, rapidly brightening into sunlight, showed us, a little distance ahead, a small stream, and we could see that we were approaching a much-frequented drinking-place, for the ground was covered with the spoor of hoofs and paws, all converging to one point.
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