Intense action is at all times an interesting object of contemplation to
mankind. We therefore make no apology to the reader for dragging him
unceremoniously into the middle of a grand primeval forest, and
presenting to his view the curious and stirring spectacle of two white
men and a negro running at their utmost possible speed, with flashing
eyes and labouring chests--evidently running for their lives.
Though very different in aspect and condition, those men were pretty
equally matched as runners, for there was no apparent difference in the
vigour with which they maintained the pace.
The track or footpath along which they ran was so narrow as to compel
them to advance in single file. He who led was a tall agile youth of
nineteen or thereabouts, in knickerbocker shooting-garb, with short
curly black hair, pleasantly expressive features, and sinewy frame. The
second was obviously a true-blue tar--a regular sea-dog--about thirty
years of age, of Samsonian mould, and, albeit running for very life,
with grand indignation gleaming in his eyes. He wore a blue shirt on
his broad back, white ducks on his active legs, and a straw hat on his
head, besides a mass of shaggy hair, which, apparently, not finding
enough of room on his cranium, overflowed in two brown cataracts down
his cheeks, and terminated in a voluminous beard.
The third fugitive was also a young man, and a negro, short, thickset,
square, tough as india-rubber, and black as the Emperor of Zahara.
Good-humour wrinkled the corners of his eyes, the milk of human kindness
played on his thick lips and rippled his sable brow, and intense
sincerity, like a sunbeam, suffused his entire visage.
James Ginger--for that was his name, though his friends preferred to
call him Ebony--scorned a hat of any kind; his simple costume consisting
merely of two garments--canvas trousers and a guernsey shirt.
The sailor wore a cutlass in his belt. Ebony was unarmed. The youthful
leader carried a short fowling-piece.
A yell in the far distance, as if from a hundred fiends, told that the
pursuers had discovered the trail of the fugitives, and were gaining on
them.
"We'll have to fight for it, doctor," growled the sailor in a savage
tone, "better stop while we've got some wind left."
"The wood seems more open ahead," replied the youth, "let's push on a
bit further."
"Hi!" exclaimed the negro in surprise, not unmingled with alarm, as they
suddenly emerged on an open space and found themselves on the edge of a
stupendous precipice.
The formation of the region was curious. There was a drop in the land,
as it were, to a lower level. From their elevated position the three
men could see a turbulent river rushing far below, at the base of the
cliffs on the edge of which they stood. Beyond lay a magnificent and
varied stretch of forest scenery, extending away to the horizon, where
the prospect terminated in a blue range of hills. No path was at first
visible by which the fugitives could reach the plain below. The
precipice was almost perpendicular. They were about to leap recklessly
over, and trust to descending by means of an occasional bush or shrub
which grew on the rocky face, when the negro uttered one of his falsetto
exclamations.
"Hi! here am a track."
He dashed aside the branches of an overhanging bush, and ran along a
narrow path, or ledge, which sloped gently downwards. It was a
fearfully giddy position, but this in the circumstances, and to men
accustomed to mast-heads and yard-arms, was of small moment. On they
ran, at a more cautious pace indeed, but still with anxious haste, until
about a quarter of the distance down the face of the precipice, when, to
their horror, they came to a turn in the path where it suddenly ended.
A mass of rock, apparently detached from the cliff by recent rains, had
fallen from above, and in its thundering descent had carried away fully
ten yards of the path into the stream below, where they could see its
shattered fragments in the rushing river. The gap in front of them was
absolutely impassable. On the right, the cliff rose sheer upwards. On
the left, it went sheer down.
A sort of groan escaped from the doctor.
"What's to be done now, Hockins?" he asked sharply, turning to the
sailor.
"Die!" replied Hockins, in a tone of savage bitterness.
"Stuff an' nonsense! we no' die yit," said the negro, pointing to the
snake-like branches of a climbing plant which, spreading over the naked
face of the cliff, turned into a crevice and disappeared round a jutting
point.
"Will it bear our weight, lad?" asked the sailor doubtfully.
"It leads to nothing that I can see," said the young doctor, "and would
only ensure our being dashed to pieces instead of speared."
"Nebber fear, massa Breezy. Dis not de fus' time I's hoed troo de
forests. If you stop here you die. James Gingah he go on an' lib."
"Go on then, Ebony; we will follow," returned Breezy, slinging his gun
on his shoulder so as to leave his hands free.
A yell of disappointment on the cliffs above accelerated their
movements. It was evident that the pursuers had come out on the open
plateau, but had not observed the path by which they descended. As it
was certain, however, that they would find it in a few minutes, Ebony
sprang upon the creeping plant and clambered along its tortuous limbs
like a monkey. Young Breezy followed, and Hockins came last.
The plant was tough. It stood the strain well. If it had given way,
death on the jagged rocks below would have been the result. But death
by savage spears was behind them, so they did not hesitate. A few
seconds and all three had passed round the jutting rock and into the
crevice, where they were completely hidden from the view of any one
standing on the path they had just left.
In the crevice they found a ledge or platform sufficiently large to
admit of their standing together. They had scarcely obtained a footing
on it when another shout announced that the pursuer had traced their
trail to the head of the track.
We know not, reader, whether you have ever experienced that
heart-melting qualm which comes over one at the sudden and unexpected
approach of what, at least, appears to be death. If you have, you will
be able to understand the intense relief and thankfulness felt by the
fugitives when, safe from immediate danger, they listened to their
pursuers as they held excited conversation at the end of the broken
track. Not knowing the language they could not, of course, understand
what was said, and being just beyond the range of vision--owing to the
jutting cliff that concealed them--they could not see what their
pursuers were doing, but they heard a suggestive crash and a sharp
exclamation.
Had they been able to see, they would have understood the situation well
enough without the aid of language.
Two of the natives, who were dark-skinned and almost naked savages, had
come to the place where the track had been broken away. They gazed at
the profound depths on the left and the inaccessible cliffs on the
right, and then glanced at each other in solemn surprise.
No doubt the creeping plant would in a few seconds have attracted
special attention, had not an incident turned their minds in another
direction. While the foremost savage was craning his neck so as to see
as far round the projecting cliff as possible, the piece of rock on
which his advanced foot was dislodged, and he had the narrowest possible
escape from plunging headlong after the rock, which went bounding and
crashing into the gulf below.
Instantly the faces of the two men gleamed with intelligence; they
nodded with energy, grinned with satisfaction, and pointed to the abyss
in front of them with the air of men who had no doubt that their enemies
were lying down there in quivering fragments.
Something of this James Ginger did indeed manage to see. Curiosity was
so powerfully developed in that sable spirit, that, at the imminent risk
of his life, he reached out by means of a branch, and so elongated his
black neck that he got one of his brilliant eyes to bear for a moment
upon his foes. He appreciated the situation instantly, and drew back to
indulge in a smothered laugh which shut up both his eyes and appeared to
gash his face from ear to ear.
"What's wrong with you, Ebony?" whispered Mark Breezy, who was in
anything but a laughing mood just then.
"Oh! nuffin', nuffin', massa; only dem brown niggers are sitch asses dat
dey b'lieve a'most anyting. Black niggers ain't so easy putt off de
scent. Dey tinks we's tumble ober de precipis an' busted ourselbes."
"Lucky for us that they think so," said Hockins, in a soft tone of
satisfaction. "But now, what are we to do? It was bad enough
clamberin' up here in blazin' excitement to save our lives, but it will
be ten times worse gettin' down again in cold blood when they're gone."
"Time enough to consider that when they _are_ gone," muttered Breezy.
"Hush! Listen!"
The sounds that reached their place of concealment told clearly enough
that a number of the savages had descended the cliffs, presumably to
look at the place over which the white men had fallen. Then there was
much eager conversation in an unknown tongue, mingled with occasional
bursts of laughter--on hearing which latter the huge mouth of our negro
enlarged in silent sympathy. After a while the voices were heard to
retire up the narrow track and become fainter until they died away
altogether, leaving no sound save the murmur of the rushing river to
fill the ears of the anxious listeners who stood like three statues in a
niche on the face of that mighty precipice.
"Now, you know," said Breezy, with a sigh of relief, "this is very
satisfactory as far as it goes, and we have reason to be thankful that
we are neither speared nor dashed to pieces; nevertheless, we are in an
uncomfortable fix here, for night is approaching, and we must retrace
our steps somehow or other, unless we make up our minds to sleep
standing."
"That's so, doctor. There's not room to lie down here," assented the
sailor, glancing slowly round; "an', to tell 'ee the plain truth, I feel
as funky about trustin' myself again to that serpent-like creeper as I
felt the first time I went up through the lubber-hole the year I went to
sea."
"What you's 'fraid ob, Mr 'Ockins?" asked Ebony.
"Afraid o' the nasty thing givin' way under my weight. If it was a good
stout rope, now, I wouldn't mind, but every crack it gave when I was
comin' aloft made my heart jump a'most out o' my mouth."
"What have 'ee found there, doctor?" asked the seaman, on observing that
his companion was groping behind a mass of herbage at the back part of
the niche in which they stood.
"There's a big hole here, Hockins. Perhaps we may find room to stay
where we are, after all, till morning. Come here, Ebony, you've got
something of the eel about you. Try if you can wriggle in."
The negro at once thrust his head and shoulders into the hole, but could
not advance.
"Bery strange!" he said, drawing out his head, and snorting once or
twice like a dog that has half-choked himself in a rabbit-hole. "Seems
to me dere's a big block o' wood dere stoppin' de way."
"Strange indeed, Ebony. A block of wood could not have grown there.
Are you sure it is not a big root?"
"Sartin' sure, massa. I hab studied roots since I was a babby. Hold
on, I try again."
The negro tried again, and with such vigour that he not only displaced
the block of wood, but burst in several planks which concealed the
entrance to a cavern. They fell on the stone floor with a crash that
aroused a multitude of echoes in the dark interior. At the same moment
something like a faint shriek or wail was heard within, causing the
hearts of the three listeners to beat faster.
"Did you hear that, Hockins?"
"Ay, I heard it sure enough. What is it, think 'ee, lad!" said the
seaman to the negro.
Ebony, who was gazing into the dark cavern with glaring eyeballs and
distended nostrils, replied--
"My advice to you is, let's go back de way we come. Dis no place for
'spectable Christians."
"Do you fear ghosts?" asked Mark, smiling, yet at the same time bringing
his gun into a convenient position, with his finger ready on the
trigger.
"I fears nuffin," returned the negro with a proud look, while beads of
perspiration stood on his brow.
"Then ye're a braver man than I am, Ebony, for I fear that climbin'
plant worse than a ghost; so here goes to find out what it is."
Although the sailor spoke thus boldly, and tried to look cool, it is
certain that he also was afflicted with sensations of an unusual
description, which, of course, he would have scorned to admit were the
result of fear! His power of will, however, was stronger than his
fears. Drawing his cutlass, he was about to enter the cavern, when Mark
laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Come, Hockins, you have accepted my lead hitherto. It is not fair to
take it out of my hands at this critical point."
So saying he glided past his comrade, and was almost lost to sight
immediately in the deep gloom.
"Softly, softly, doctor," whispered the seaman, as he followed, "there
may be holes or pits within--"
"All right; I'm feeling my way carefully. Keep close."
As he spoke a slight, indescribable sound was heard--almost like a sigh.
"Hist! Did 'ee hear that?" said Hockins in the lowest possible whisper.
"Oh! massa, let's go back de way we come," urged Ebony, in the same low
but earnest tone.
Mark Breezy did not reply, but the click of his gun as he cocked it
showed that he was on the alert.
For nearly a minute the three men stood in absolute silence, listening
for a repetition of the mysterious sound, and, though it did not recur,
there was an indescribable feeling in the heart of each that they were
not alone in that cavern.
"Have you not flint and steel?" asked Mark.
"Yes; but to strike a light would only show our whereabouts if there
_is_ any one here."
The seaman accidentally touched Ebony on the elbow as he spoke, and sent
that worthy's heart, or something like it, into his throat with such
violence as nearly to choke him.
"Git along, massa," he said in a gaspy whisper, when able to articulate,
"we's got to go troo wid it _now_."
Acting on this advice the young man continued to advance cautiously,
feeling his way step by step and fully expecting every moment to reach
the inner wall of the cavern.
Presently the explorers were again brought to a stand by the sudden
appearance of a light in the far distance. As, however, it did not
move, they continued to advance, and soon were convinced that it was
daylight shining through an opening in that direction. Every step
convinced them more and more that they were right, and their spirits
rose with the hope of escaping, though the light made no appreciable
difference as yet in the darkness that surrounded them.
Suddenly a sharp, loud, short cry filled the cavern for an instant, and
almost froze their blood! The loudness and abrupt stoppage of the cry
left the impression that the creature which uttered it had been suddenly
and effectively killed, for it ended in a sharp gasp or gurgle, and then
all was still,--but only for a moment, for the shock to Mark's nerves
was such that his finger inadvertently pressed the trigger of his gun,
which exploded with a deafening crash, and awoke shrieks and cries that
were not to be accounted for by mere echoes.
This was too much for ordinary human beings. Fabled knights of old in
armour of proof might have stood it, but the two white men and the
black, being ordinary heroes, regardless of pride and honour, went in
for a regular stampede, and it is but simple justice to say that Ebony
won, for he reached the outlet of the cavern first, and sprang through
it into daylight like a black thunderbolt. It is also due to his
comrades to add that they were not far behind him.
Their courage, however, was soon restored. Daylight has a celebrated
power of restoring courage. On clearing the bushes which concealed the
entrance to the cave they simultaneously stopped, turned round, and
resolutely faced their foe!
But no foe was to be seen! Once again all was still as death. After
glaring for a few seconds at the spot whence the expected enemy should
have issued, the three fugitives relaxed their frowning brows and turned
inquiring eyes on each other.
"Dis beats cockfightin' a'most," said Ebony, with a sigh of intense
relief.
"Ay, an' every other sort o' fightin' as I ever heard on," responded
Hockins.
"Come, friends," said their young leader, "whatever it may have been, it
behoves us to get as far away from this spot as possible, and that as
fast as we can."