The Maroon was but a few moments in recovering the "spoor" of the two
nocturnal strollers.
At the point where they had gone out of the glade, there was a path that
led up the hills in the direction of the Jumbe Rock. It was a mere
cattle track--used only very occasionally by bipeds. Being the only
path that went that way, and judging, moreover, that neither the Jew nor
his follower would be likely to traverse the thicket at random, Cubina
concluded that they had gone by this path.
Throwing himself upon it, and advancing with a quick but silent step, he
soon recovered sight of them.
The shade of the gigantic trees--it was a primeval forest through which
they were passing--was favourable to his design; and without much risk
of being seen, he was able to keep them in view, and almost within
earshot.
At that moment, the mind of the Jew was too pre-occupied to be
suspicious; and the mulatta was not likely to trouble her thoughts about
whether they were followed or not. Had she known, however--had she even
suspected--that her steps were dogged, and by Cubina, the Maroon, it
would, no doubt, have sharpened her senses.
"They appear to be making for the Jumbe Rock?" mentally soliloquised
Cubina, as they commenced ascending the slope of the mountain.
"_Crambo_! That is odd enough! What do they intend to do there at this
hour of the night--or at any hour, I might say? And who's the _he_
that's been sending for Jessuron? She took _him_ a provision basket!
By that, it ought to be some runaway. But what has the old Jew to do
with a runaway? To get out of his bed at this time of the night, and
tramp it three miles through the woods! For that matter, they say he
don't sleep much anyhow; and, like the owl, night's his favourite time,
I suppose. Something's being cooked for the Custos: for that girl's a
very devil! Not that I should care about _him_, or what happened to
him, at any other time. He's not much; and is only helping me in that
matter because he hates the other. No matter for him; but from what
Yola's told me, I'd go to the world's end for his daughter. Ha! I may
do her a service yet. _Valga me Dios_! what's up now? They've
stopped!"
The Jew and his companion, about a hundred yards ahead, had suddenly
come to a stand. They appeared to be scrutinising the path.
Cubina, crouching in the shadow of the bushes, stopped likewise; and
waited for the others to advance.
They did so after a short interval--hastening on as before; but in a
slightly divergent direction.
"Ho, ho!" muttered the Maroon; "not for the Jumbe Rock, but the Duppy's
Hole! I remember now. The path forks up yonder. They've taken that
which goes to the Hole. Well! it don't help me to comprehend their
purpose a bit clearer. _Carrai_! that Duppy's Hole! Didn't some of my
fellows tell me they've heard strange noises there lately? Quaco is
ready to swear he saw the ghost of the old myal-man, Chakra, standing
upon the edge of the cliff! They're going there, as sure as my name's
Cubina!"
And with this conjectural reflection the Maroon forsook the shadow under
which he had been sheltering, and flitted forward along the path.
Another five hundred yards further on, his conjecture was confirmed.
The parties dogged by him had reached the edge of the precipice that
frowned down upon the Duppy's Hole, and there halted.
Cubina also made stop--as before concealing himself within the black
shadow of the bushes.
He had scarcely crouched down, when his ears were saluted by a shrill
whistle--not made by the lips, but proceeding from some instrument, as a
reed or a common dog-call. It was plainly a signal, sounded either by
Cynthia or the Jew, Cubina could not tell which.
Only once was it given. And there was no answer--for that similar
sound, that came like an echo from the far forest, was a counterfeit.
It was the mimic-note of the mock-bird.
Cubina, skilled in these voices of the night, knew this, and paid no
heed to the distant sound. His whole attention was absorbed in watching
the movements of the two individuals still standing upon the edge of the
cliff. The white sky was beyond them, against which he could see their
dark _silhouettes_ outlined with perfect distinctness.
After about a minute's time, he saw them once more in motion; and then
both appeared to vanish from his view--not wasting into the air, but
sinking into the ground, as if a trap-door had admitted them to the
interior of the earth.
He saw this without much surprise. He knew they must have gone down the
precipice, but how they had performed this feat was something that did
surprise him a little.
It was but a short spell of astonishment. In a score of seconds he
stood upon the edge of the precipice, at the spot where they had
disappeared.
He looked down. He could trace, though dimly, a means of descent among
the wattle of boughs and corrugated creepers that clasped the _facade_
of the cliff. Even under the fantastic gleam of the moon, he could see
that human hands had helped the construction of this natural ladder.
He stayed not to scrutinise it. An object of greater interest
challenged his glance. On the disc of the lagoon--in the moonlight, a
sheet of silver, like a mirror in its frame of dark mahogany--moved a
thing of sharp, elliptical shape--a canoe.
Midships of the craft, a form was crouching. Was it human or demon?
The aspect was demon--the shape scarce human. Long, ape-like arms; a
hunched back; teeth gleaming in the moonlight like the incisors of a
shark; features everything but human to one who had not seen them
before!
Cubina had seen them before. To him, though not familiar, they were
known. If not the ghost of Chakra, he saw Chakra himself!
Volume Two, Chapter XXX.