HUNTED BY BLOODHOUNDS.
For one moment we gazed at each other blankly, helplessly.
As the reader knows, we had foreseen the possibility of an organized
pursuit. We had never thought, however—at least _I_ had not—that the
blow would fall so soon.
The pirates had quickly recovered from their panic.
Had we been aware of the fact that, on reaching the creek, they had
encountered the chief, who had just returned from his cruise, we should
not have been so surprised.
“To the forest, to the forest!” cried Ned; “it’s our only chance of
safety!”
We turned and fled.
Fortunately the ground was clearer of obstructions than it had been. In
fact, we were close to the boundary-line of vegetation once more.
We glanced back, but could see no sign of our pursuers. There was
no mistaking the fact, however, that the bloodhounds were giving
tongue, and were doubtless upon our trail. The human cries had ceased.
The volcano was now doing us another service. Through the darkened
atmosphere it would be impossible for the chasing pirates to see us
till they were quite close.
But those awful dogs with their deadly scent! I could not doubt that
they would track us down long, long before we could reach the coast.
And even if we succeeded in gaining the seaboard first, the chances
were a hundred to one against our finding any sort of boat—at any rate
a _friendly_ boat.
Our position, without doubt, was a desperate one.
I do not think that I have ever, during the whole course of my life,
run at such a pace as I did on that occasion. The bloodhounds’ cruel
bays lent wings to my feet, and I seemed to fly over the ground like a
hunted deer with the bloodthirsty cheetah upon its spoor. My companions
were both fleet of foot and sound in wind and limb, but, of course, we
had all suffered a good deal from our captivity and from insufficient
food.
Ned had evidently been struck with the idea that the forest would
afford us an asylum; but I must confess that, at the time, I had very
little hope that we could throw the dogs off the scent. It appeared to
me that the animals would track us among the trees, just as easily as
over the open country.
Should we even succeed in reaching the forest first? I felt painful
doubts on the subject, for my ears revealed the fact to me only too
plainly that the bloodhounds were slowly but surely gaining on us.
Still we had had a good start, and that was something to be thankful
for.
The view was certainly getting clearer as we advanced. The rumblings
from the raging crater were more indistinct.
As yet we had not spoken a word. We did not want to waste our breath,
and all our energies were concentrated on covering the ground at
as rapid a pace as possible. Ned led the way with a fixed look of
determination on his face. He carried his rifle at the trail, but none
of us knew whether it was loaded or not; for, strange to say, we had
not thought of examining it, or the pistols either.
Thanks to the famous spurt we had put on, we were rapidly nearing the
outskirts of the jungle. It did not seem to be more than a hundred
yards distant. Owing to the greater clearness of the atmosphere,
I could now see that the forest was rather dense, but that it was
comparatively small in area, and sloped away towards the sea, from
which it appeared to be divided only by ridges of sandhills.
Yes, there was the sea plainly enough now, but looking dark and
disturbed, as if it too had felt the terrible rockings caused by the
seismic earth-waves.
It was not more than a mile distant as the crow flies; and as the
island was not lofty in any part, I do not suppose we were in reality
more than two hundred feet above its level. I hastily scanned its
surface, but could discern no sign of a boat or vessel. Owing to the
calm state of the atmospheric currents, the vaporous clouds that
continuously shot up from the crater did not drift over the sea to
any considerable extent, but rolled up in spiral wreaths towards the
zenith, and hung in space like a vast nigrescent pall.
It suddenly flashed across me that I had not heard the bloodhounds’
bays for some little time, although previously the sounds had been
almost continuous.
“Ned,” I gasped out, “the dogs have stopped giving tongue.”
My coxswain hurriedly glanced over his shoulder, but did not relax his
pace for a moment.
“The same thing struck me,” he said, “but it would be impossible for
them to lose the scent here. We mustn’t lose a moment. If you can’t
spurt a bit longer, sir, you must take a good firm grip of my arm, for
your weight would be a mere trifle to me.”
I assured Ned, with many thanks for his offers of assistance, that I
was quite capable of keeping up the pace as far as to the forest, and,
indeed, it was now not fifty yards distant. Mr. Triggs gave it as his
opinion that for some unforeseen reason the pursuit had slackened.
The sudden silence of the dogs was certainly remarkable, but that they
had lost the scent seemed a perfect impossibility.
The next moment we had bounded into the forest, which was composed
of trees of some considerable age, most of which were closely united
by hanging and trailing festoons of creepers, whilst beneath their
umbrageous branches grew scattered underwood and young saplings.
Our sudden advent startled some monkeys that were skylarking about
among the larger trees on the outskirts of the jungle, and they fled
precipitately, shrieking with alarm.
“Tiresome little beasts,” cried Ned angrily; “the shindy they kick up
is quite enough to draw attention to our whereabouts.”
“We can halt for a moment, I think,” said Mr. Triggs breathlessly,
mopping his head at the same time with a large red pocket-handkerchief,
which the pirates had had the complaisance to leave in his possession.
“Certainly. I wants to have a bit of a sky round,” replied Ned; “and
I reckon we’re all a bit gone in the bellows,” and so saying he crept
stealthily to the boundary of the forest, and, dropping upon his knees,
gazed and listened intently.
He remained in this position for about half a minute, and then arose
and rejoined us.
“This is a rum start,” he said hurriedly, “but I can’t hear nothing but
that blooming wolcano a boilin’ and a spirtin’ away like old Harry!
What’s become of them dawgs, and the swabs o’ pirates, is more than I
can say. But we mustn’t hang about here; as I take it they’re going to
play us some dirty trick or another.”
“Miguel is sure to put them up to something underhand,” I said; “he’s a
regular mischief-maker.”
Ned now examined his rifle, and was relieved to find that it was
loaded. Unfortunately, however, he had no spare cartridges. Our
pistols, which were long heavy ones, were also charged, ready for use;
but, of course, we were in the same predicament of being unprovided
with any more ammunition. We also had the two swords, which might prove
to be valuable weapons. They appeared to be of a military pattern, and
were probably of Spanish manufacture—perhaps veritable Toledos.
“Got your wind again, Mr. Darcy?” asked the gunner.
“Yes,” I answered. “I’m quite ready for a start.”
“That’s the sort. We’ll carry on at once,” said Ned, “and make tracks
for the coast-line, keeping to the forest all the way. That’s the
safest plan.”
We had just started off again at a sharp run, when our ears were
assailed with the blood-curdling sound of the sleuthhounds’ bay.
“God preserve us!” exclaimed the gunner, in horror-stricken tones; “the
wretches have struck our trail again.”
For a moment we involuntarily turned our heads and gazed back through
the vista of trees, which allowed us a partial view of the open country
we had so lately crossed.
As we did so, a loud yell rent the air, and reverberated amid the
sturdy boles of the forest-trees.
Simultaneously we all caught sight of a man, who had suddenly appeared
on the summit of a cliff-like rock some little distance from the
outskirts of the forest. He was not too far, however, for us to
recognize both his features and his figure.
_It was the chief._
As we gazed at him in a sort of fascinated way, another individual also
sprang upon the rock.
It was Miguel.