THE FLIGHT.
Never had Ziffak shown such fearful excitement. He swung his arms, and
in his wild agitation uttered some of his words in Murhapa, but his
meaning was caught by Ashman, who was infected by his overwhelming
emotion. He was distraught for the moment, and stood undecided what to
do.
It was the lovely Ariel who showed the most self-command.
"Whither shall we go, Ziffak?" she asked in English.
"To the enchanted lake; to the burning mountain! You know the way!
Nothing else will save you, and you are lost if you wait another
minute!"
And laying hands on the young man, he whirled him about and gave him a
shove which nearly threw him off his feet. Then he reached to catch
her, but she eluded him and slipped like a bird to the side of her
lover.
"We will go!" said she; "leave us alone!"
Ashman turned his head and seizing the hand of his companion, said,
"You are my guide now! Lead on, and I will follow you to the death!"
She made no answer, but moved rapidly through the wood until they came
to the open space along the river. Here, since there were no
obstructions, they increased their pace almost to a run. He sought to
maintain his place beside her, but she moved so fast, with little
apparent effort that it was hard to do so.
He had his Winchester and revolver, and he glanced behind to learn
whether they were followed. Ziffak had vanished, and no one was in
sight. It was well that such was the fact; for he would not have
hesitated to shoot down any that might appear.
The extraordinary flight continued for a furlong, and then Ariel paused
on the edge of the Xingu. Her lover saw the reason: a small canoe lay
against the shore.
"Is this to be used?" he asked, glancing in her pale face.
She nodded her head, and, lifting her skirts, stepped daintily within,
and sat down near the stern. He shoved the boat clear, sprang in and
sat down near the middle, as he seized the broad thin paddle.
Although considerably above the rapids, which had been the cause of all
his difficulty, Ashman noticed that the current was not so swift as
that encountered at many places leagues below; and, since the width was
no greater, it followed that that portion of the Upper Xingu was of
unusual depth.
In the strange excitement of the occasion, the lovers spoke few words.
They had said much, and, when the opportunity should again come, they
would say a great deal more; but they were fleeing for their lives, and
any distraction of their whole interest and effort was likely to be
fatal.
Ariel realized this as fully as did Ashman. She continually glanced in
every direction, especially toward the village which was fast receding
behind them. Fred swung the paddle powerfully, but with as little
noise as possible.
In such crises of a man's life he thinks rapidly. While the young
man's heart was aglow with the ecstacy of a promised fulfillment of his
love--a more glorious fulfillment than he had dared to dream of--he saw
that a desperate struggle was not only certain but close at hand.
Very soon the flight of Ariel must be discovered, and her infuriated
father would stop at nothing to punish the elopers. He could command
hundreds of the most valiant warriors of the Matto Grosso, and any one,
except such a lover as Fred Ashman, would have shrunk from the
prodigious task before him.
When the flight of the canoe had continued for several minutes, and he
could breathe a little more freely, he asked of his companion, whether
she was familiar with the region they expected to visit.
The reply was singular. King Haffgo was accustomed to make regular
excursions to the wonderful place, and he rarely did so without Ariel
as his companion. He had guards stationed night and day to watch for
the approach of strangers, for there was wealth enough to awaken the
avarice even of the Emperor of Brazil himself.
Leaving his warriors at the entrance to the lake, with instructions to
prevent any one following him, Haffgo would paddle the frail craft out
upon the lake, with his daughter as his only companion.
They explored much of the strange locality, visiting places unknown, so
far as they were aware, to every one else.
Ashman reflected that this was extremely fortunate so far as Ariel was
concerned, for it gave her the very knowledge that was so necessary in
their flight; but, unfortunately, their bitterest and most unrelenting
enemy possessed the same knowledge.
Now the Xingu broadened, and the flow became still more moderate.
Ashman held his paddle suspended and looked around.
"Are we entering the lake?"
"Not yet," she replied with a shake of her lovely head.
The oar was dipped again, and the light boat shot forward like a water
fowl over the smooth surface.
He had noticed that the boat was similar to that used by Ziffak, being
composed of a species of bark, the seams of which were skilfully joined
with tendons, and the outside covered with a gum which rendered it
close enough to exclude even air itself.
What seemed to be a creek a hundred feet wide, suddenly opened on the
right, winding through an exuberant forest whose branches overhung the
water. She motioned with her hand for him to guide the boat into this,
adding that it was the entrance to the enchanted lake of which he had
heard such glowing accounts, and whose existence, he remembered, had
been denied by Ziffak, though it had been admitted by him only a brief
while before.
The course of the canoe was changed, and Ashman involuntarily slackened
the pace, while he gazed around with increasing wonder.
The distance was not far, when a towering rock was observed jutting out
from the bank. It was fully twenty feet high, rough, jagged and
massive and obtruded half-way across the stream.
She whispered to him to proceed as cautiously as he could, for on the
rock was stationed one of the lookouts of King Haffgo, whose duty it
was to challenge every one on his way to the enchanted lake. Ashman
was told to keep his lips mute, in case they were hailed, as they were
likely to be, and to leave to her any explanation it might be necessary
to make.
In the bright moonlight, the sentinel was sure to notice the presence
of a white man in the boat, but would be likely to believe he was
either Waggaman or Burkhardt, while he would not dare to question the
daughter of the king, however much he might be astonished at her
presence at this time.
Ashman saw the figure of a Murhapa, but instead of being erect, he was
seated on a ledge of the rock, his body half prone and in a motionless
posture. The paddle was dipped more softly than ever as the craft came
opposite him, but he did not speak, or stir.
"He's asleep?" whispered Ashman, looking inquiringly at her.
She nodded her head, and he did not require to be told of the great
gain that would be secured, if they could pass without awaking him.
With that view, he used the utmost care, causing only the faintest
ripple, as he propelled the light craft over the mirror-like surface.
In a few seconds, the massive rock was passed, and still the sentinel
remained as motionless, as if he were a part of the solid stone, on
which he was seated. He surely was a negligent servant to lose his
consciousness thus early in the night.
A few more strokes, and a turn in the creek left him out of sight.
_That_ danger was safely passed, and Fred Ashman drew a sigh of relief,
accepting it as a good omen of their future.
He now dipped the paddle deeper, and, within the following five
minutes, the canoe and its occupants debouched upon the waters of the
wonderful enchanted lake.