When George Leicester at last awoke from his stupor, and had
sufficiently recovered his scattered senses to remember where he was,
the strength and fury of the storm had passed, the lightning-flashes
being much less vivid, and coming at considerably longer intervals. But
the rain was descending in a perfect deluge, and, notwithstanding the
shelter of the thick overhanging foliage, the ground was already so
completely flooded that George at first thought he was lying in the bed
of some shallow watercourse. He staggered to his feet, chill and
dripping wet, and, taking advantage of the intermittent light afforded
by the lightning, looked around him to ascertain, if possible, what had
actually happened; and he then saw that an immense tree close by had
been shivered from top to bottom by the lightning, and, falling across
their path, had killed both mules, and completely wrecked the waggon.
His own escape and that of his companions, if indeed they _had_ escaped,
had been simply miraculous, a huge branch having struck the waggon only
about one foot behind the seat upon which they had been sitting. The
ground was littered with splinters, and encumbered with the spreading
branches of the fallen tree, and among these he proceeded to search for
Tom and Walford.
A low moaning sound some short distance on his right told him that in
that direction he would probably find one of the missing, and, groping
his way cautiously to the spot, he found the unfortunate Walford lying
on his back, with the water surging round him like a mill-race, and a
large branch of the fallen tree lying across his breast and pinning him
down. By exerting his whole strength, George managed to bear up the
branch sufficiently for Walford to work his way from underneath it, and
then he helped the poor wretch to his feet, inquiring at the same time
if he had received any serious hurt. Unfortunately one of the apathetic
fits which occasionally seized Walford had come upon him, and George was
quite unable to gain anything like an intelligible answer from him; but
he was scarcely able to stand, and his continued moaning and the
constant pressure of his hands upon his breast showed that he was
evidently suffering great pain.
Seating the unfortunate man at the foot of a tree, where he would be
beyond the reach of the water, and making him as comfortable as was
possible, George then went in search of the lad Tom, whom he found
standing bewildered over the wreck of the waggon, with a thin stream of
blood slowly trickling down his face from a scalp-wound, probably
inflicted by a blow from one of the branches of the tree as it fell.
"Ha! Tom, is that you?" exclaimed George joyously. "I was just coming
to look for you. How have you fared in the general smash?"
"Is that you, cap'n?" answered Tom. "Well, I'm very glad to find you've
turned up all right. It _has_ been a smash, and no mistake; a total
wreck, and no insurance, I'll be bound. Well, it's unfort'nate; but it
can't be helped; it might ha' been much worse. I got a whack on the
skull that knocked the senses out of me for a while, but I don't feel
very much the worse for it a'ter all. Where's poor Mr Walford, sir?
What's become of him?"
"He is close by," answered George; "but a big branch fell across his
chest, and I am afraid he is very much hurt."
"Let's have a look at him," said Tom. And the two men groped and
stumbled their way without more ado to the place where Walford was still
seated, with his back resting against the giant bole of the tree.
A few trials were sufficient to establish the fact that the poor fellow
was practically helpless, for the time at least; and it then became a
question of what it would be best to do under the circumstances. The
first idea was that George and Tom should each take an arm of the
injured man over their shoulders, and so assist him along; but he moved
with such great difficulty that it was soon apparent some other plan
would have to be adopted.
"I have it!" exclaimed George, as a bright idea struck him; and hurrying
away to the waggon, he secured the canvas and rope which had been thrown
into it, together with the cane-knives, canvas jackets, and other
trifling belongings, and hurried back to the tree.
"Now, Tom," he said, "look about you, my lad, and see if you can find a
nice light handy branch, tolerably straight, and about ten feet long,
and bring it here as quickly as you can."
"Ay, ay, sir," answered Tom, starting off on his errand at once.
Whilst he was gone, George spread out the canvas upon the ground, and,
with the aid of a pocket-knife, which he had seen lying about in the
stable that evening, and had taken the liberty of appropriating,
proceeded to roughly shape a hammock out of the material, leaving enough
canvas at each end to form, with the rope, an eye, through which to pass
the branch from which he intended it to be slung.
He had hardly finished his preparations when Tom reappeared with the
waggon-pole, which he had found fortunately unbroken.
"Will this do, sir?" asked Tom.
"The very thing," was George's delighted reply. "Now, Walford," he
continued, "lie down on that canvas, old fellow, and we'll soon have you
slung comfortably in your hammock between us, where you will travel
without much pain to your poor chest. That's it; now, Tom, pass the end
of the pole through this eye; capital! now through the other; that's
your sort! Now I'll take the fore end of the pole and you the after
end; lift handsomely; have you got your end on your shoulder? Then off
we go. We have not such a very great distance to travel--only some
twenty miles or so--but we must get over the ground as quickly as
possible; for when once nine o'clock to-morrow morning has passed, we
may make certain that they'll be after us; so we must reach the coast by
that time, or soon after it, if we wish to get clear off."
And in this manner, with Walford slung in his impromptu hammock between
them, George and Tom set off upon the wearisome journey which lay before
them, and which, they fondly hoped, was to end in the absolute recovery
of their liberty.
_Tramp, tramp; splash, splash_; on they trudged,--stumbling over the
roots of trees, tripping over the long, tough, straggling creepers which
crossed their path, sometimes brought-up "all standing" and
half-strangled by the cord-like _llianas_ which hung festooned from tree
to tree, their naked feet and legs torn by thorns and stabbed by the
spines of the wild cactus--in thick impenetrable darkness for a couple
of hours, and then the clouds suddenly vanished away on the wings of the
land-breeze, the stars reappeared, the soft silvery rays of the moon
streamed down once more through the gaps in the foliage, and the weary
fugitives flung themselves down upon the sodden ground for a short
breathing-space.
George was of opinion that, from the time they had been tramping through
the forest, they ought to have very nearly reached its southern skirts;
but as far as the eye could penetrate, in the uncertain moonlight,
through the sylvan vistas, there was no sign of break or opening of any
kind; nothing but an apparently endless succession of trees and dense
undergrowth. Seeing this, Leicester began to feel uneasy. He knew that
they had been travelling through the timber in anything but a straight
line--indeed, to do so would have been simply a physical impossibility--
and he began to fear that, in spite of all his efforts to avoid such a
misfortune, they had been journeying along the arc of a circle, instead
of progressing steadily in a southerly direction.
The wanderers were beginning to feel thoroughly fatigued, what with
their day's work in the fields, their exposure during the storm, and
their painful tramp afterwards; but George felt that, fatigued or not,
they must push on; liberty _must_ be secured first; when that was won,
they could afford time to rest, but not until then.
The first thing to be done, however, was to get a definite idea of
whereabouts they were; it was obviously useless to continue plodding on,
they knew not whither; besides, it was frightfully fatiguing and painful
work, this marching through the forest, and George felt that it would be
a positive advantage even to deviate somewhat from their direct course,
if by so doing they could earlier gain the open ground once more. So,
looking around him, he picked out the most lofty tree he could find,
and, leaving Tom to keep watch by Walford's side, nimbly scrambled up
its trunk, and was soon among its topmost branches.
A single glance around sufficed to show him that his suspicions were
correct; they were only about half a mile from the _northern_ edge of
the timber; and, consequently, rather worse off than if they had never
left the wrecked waggon at all. And, worse still, George found that,
after all their travelling, they were little more than three miles from
the estate, the whole of which was distinctly visible from his lofty
stand-point. This was rather discouraging, but there was no help for
it; he now knew exactly where they were, and how much greater than even
he had imagined was the necessity for immediate action; so he turned his
glances in a southerly direction, and sought to discover the most direct
road out of their unpleasant predicament. Here he met with an ample
reward for his trouble in climbing the tree, for he saw that, if they
pursued their way due south--as they could now do, directing their
course by the moon--they would have to travel through at least seven
miles of forest; whilst by heading in a south-westerly direction,
keeping the moon a little on their left hand, they would only have to
traverse some two miles of forest, after which there seemed to be
tolerably open ground as far as the eye could reach. About three miles
East-South-East of him he detected the gleaming white walls of a number
of buildings, which he judged to be a portion of the town of Santiago;
beyond it rose a curiously-shaped, double-coned mountain; away on his
right lay the table-land of Mariel; and--joyous sight--through a break
in the rising ground to the southward he caught a glimpse of the sea,
with, far away on the utmost verge of the horizon, an appearance of
land, which he conjectured must be the Isle of Pines. Noting all these
matters carefully, and making a rough mental sketch of "the lay of the
land," George rapidly descended to where he had left Tom and Walford,
and rapidly detailed to the former the result of his observations.
"We must be off at once," he explained, "for we have no time to spare;
we have lost nearly three good hours blundering about here blindly in
this wood; it must be now nearly or quite midnight; and, if so, it
leaves us only ten hours at most to reach the sea, if we are to do so
without being overtaken."
Accordingly, weary and stiff as they were, they again shouldered the
pole from which Walford in his hammock was slung, and once more set out
upon their journey, which, now that they were favoured by the light of
the moon, they hoped would be of a somewhat more prosperous character
than it had hitherto been.
Another painful and toilsome tramp of a couple of hours and they
emerged, to their unbounded joy, from the southern side of the forest on
to comparatively open ground. Trees and dense straggling clumps of bush
were still abundant enough--far too much so, in fact--but there were
wide patches of grass-land between, over which their progress was
tolerably rapid. Once clear of the thick timber, George again shaped
his course due south, intending to pass through the break in the rising
ground which he had seen from his lofty lookout; but somehow they missed
it, and this involved a great deal of toilsome climbing. At length they
plunged once more into a belt of timber which stretched, seemingly for
miles, across their path; and here exhausted nature gave out; Tom
declared his utter inability to walk another yard, George felt scarcely
better than his companion, and so, notwithstanding the terrible loss of
precious time which it involved, they selected the first suitable spot
they could find, and flinging themselves upon the ground, one on each
side of Walford, gave themselves up to the sweetest sleep which had ever
sealed their eyelids.
George was the first of the trio to awaken, and when he did so, he
found, to his dismay, that the sun was already several hours high in the
heavens. He immediately aroused the lad Tom, and, greatly refreshed by
their sleep, the pair once more shouldered poor helpless Walford and his
hammock, and resumed their flight. They were as hungry as healthy men
usually are after great exertion and a fast of several hours' duration,
but they had not a particle of food with them, so they were compelled to
subsist for the present upon hope, the hope that ere long they would
meet with something more substantial. They felt no particular anxiety
upon this score, as George knew that wild fruits of several kinds were
tolerably plentiful on the island, and about half an hour after they had
started they were fortunate enough to fall in with a wild plantain, the
fruit of which was just in the right condition for eating. No time was
lost in securing a goodly bunch of this very nutritious fruit, upon
which they feasted, as they went along, until their appetites were
completely satisfied.
After trudging manfully along for about a couple of hours, they found
themselves upon the crest of a range of low hills, from which they
caught, through a break in the scrub, a glimpse of the sea, sparkling
invitingly under the noonday sun. They also caught a glimpse of
something, by no means so pleasant--namely, a town of considerable
dimensions immediately before them and only about two miles distant.
To avoid this they were compelled to make a wide detour, and much
valuable time was lost in this way and in reconnoitring; for they knew
there would be several plantations in immediate proximity to so
important a place, and through these they would have, as it were, to run
the gauntlet. And, notwithstanding all their caution, they failed to
effect their passage entirely unobserved through this dangerous
district; it unfortunately happening that, just as they emerged from the
bush, and were about to cross a high-road, which they had been watching
for nearly half an hour, a vehicle appeared in sight, suddenly wheeling
into the road close to them from a bush-path which they had failed to
observe. This vehicle was occupied by two persons, a white man and a
negro driver; and as it was utterly impossible to avoid the observation
of these two persons, George told Tom, in a few low hasty words, to
continue moving, to carefully conceal all appearance of chagrin, and to
leave him to answer any questions which might be put to them. As the
vehicle approached the fugitives, its owner signed to his driver to pull
up, but he immediately changed his mind and passed on, contenting
himself with a careful and prolonged scrutiny of the travellers. This
disagreeable incident caused George and his companion to push on with
renewed vigour, and it was with sincerely thankful hearts that they at
last plunged into a shallow ravine, which promised to lead them directly
down to the sea, then not more, in Leicester's opinion, than some four
or five miles distant.
The sun was by this time sinking low in the heavens and the travellers,
unutterably weary as they were, pressed eagerly forward, hoping to reach
the coast before nightfall, and to discover a craft of some kind which
they could appropriate, and in which, later on, when the night was well
advanced, and they could hope to do so unobserved, they might venture to
put to sea. This was the only effectual method of escape which George
could devise--to put to sea upon the chance of being picked up by some
passing vessel. He knew that, when once the fact of their escape became
established, the news would travel faster than they possibly could; the
whole country for many miles round, would be apprised of their number
and appearance, and recapture would be certain. To get afloat,
therefore, as speedily as possible was their first object; after that
they must trust to chance--or Providence, rather--for their ultimate
rescue.
As they advanced along the ravine, it grew deeper, whilst its sides
became steeper and more rugged, until at last the place assumed quite
the appearance of a mountain-gorge or defile, with rocky, precipitous
sides, to which a few scattered shrubs clung here and there. At length,
in the deep silence of the breathless evening, the thrice welcome sound
of the sea breaking upon the shore came faintly to their ears. It was
the merest, faintest murmur, it is true, but their experienced ears told
them in a moment what it was; they were within the sound of the sea, and
in a few short hours at most, please God, they would be safe from
pursuit.
A bend in the defile was before them, about a quarter of a mile distant,
and toward this they eagerly pressed believing that when they had passed
it they would find themselves face to face with the sea. In their
eagerness they broke into a run, notwithstanding their terrible state of
fatigue, and soon rounded the bend--to find themselves in a
_cul-de-sac_, with a perpendicular wall of cliff in front of them nearly
two hundred feet high. With a groan of bitter anguish and
disappointment they deposited Walford in his hammock on the ground, and
turned to ask each other what should be done in the face of this new
difficulty. As they did so, the deep bay of a dog smote upon their ears
from the higher end of the ravine. The sound was instantly repeated
again and again, in a slightly different key, proving that the cries
were uttered not by one, but by several animals.
"The dogs! _The dogs_!" exclaimed Tom. "They are after us, by Jove;
and here we are, caught like rats in a trap."
George glanced eagerly about him, up and down the ravine. To go back
was simply to throw themselves into the arms of their pursuers, for that
they _were_ pursued he did not for an instant doubt; to hide, even if a
hiding-place could be found, was impossible, with those keen-scented
brutes upon their tracks; and to remain where they were was to await
inevitable capture. Could they go _forward_? That meant scaling that
terrible wall of rock. As George glanced despairingly up the lofty
perpendicular cliff, he thought that an active man, unencumbered,
_might_ possibly accomplish the feat; at all events, were he so
circumstanced, he would try it. And what he could do, he knew the lad
Tom could do also; but there was Walford, unable to walk, much less to
scale that awful precipice. As he stood thus, the baying of the dogs
again came floating down the ravine; and how much nearer and clearer
were now the sounds! The brutes must be coming down after them at a
run, as of course they easily could upon a red-hot scent. The sounds
decided George to make one more desperate effort for freedom.
"Look here, Tom," said he; "after coming thus far, we must not be taken
for want of a little extra effort. If we _are_, you may be sure we
shall never be allowed to make a second attempt. Now our only chance is
to scale that cliff; we _must_ do it, and we _can_ do it, if we only go
resolutely to work. It will be difficult, fatiguing, and awfully
dangerous, for we must take poor Walford with us; but _liberty_ awaits
us at the top; the sea is not half a mile off, I know, by the sound of
it; and we can reach it before those fellows can ride round to intercept
us; so let us set to with a will, my lad, and we shall scrape clear yet,
you take my word for it. Now out with your cane-knife, and cut away at
the grass; we must well pad poor Walford all round with it, so that he
may not be hurt by bumping against those rocks; then we'll lash him hard
and fast in the canvas, lash ourselves one to each end of him, and away
aloft we go."