Having partaken of as much of the fruit as he deemed prudent, George at
once betook himself to the task of climbing the precipice, and was
agreeably surprised at the rapidity and ease with which he accomplished
the ascent. Now that he was unencumbered with Walford's weight, and was
free from the horrible dread which had before haunted him--that a false
step on Tom's part might precipitate all hands to the bottom--his
confidence in his own powers enabled him to coolly approach and
successfully surmount obstacles which, under less favourable conditions,
he would have dreaded to face, and in a few minutes he was within a foot
or two of the top.
Here he deemed it prudent to pause for a moment and survey the path by
which he had ascended, so that, in the event of danger, he might be able
to effect a rapid retreat. The glance downward which he permitted
himself to take, though only momentary, brought on again, though happily
only in a mitigated degree, the same feeling of vertigo and nausea from
which he had before suffered; and he was obliged to close his eyes for a
short time, clinging convulsively to the rock meanwhile, to avoid
falling headlong to the bottom.
Having at length once more recovered his steadiness, he rose cautiously
higher and higher, until his head was level with the top edge of the
precipice, and then he ventured to raise his head rapidly, cast a flying
glance round, and dip it again. But the latter precaution was needless;
the ground still sloped upward, so that he could see for a distance of
some forty yards only, but all the visible space was perfectly clear;
there was no human eye to detect his presence there. Once more raising
his head, and this time taking a more leisurely and deliberate glance
round, to make assurance doubly sure, he proceeded to make his way up
over the edge on to the comparatively level ground at the top. This was
a task demanding the utmost caution, for a depth of some eighteen inches
of light soil crowned the rock, thickly covered with long rank grass,
which, owing to the lightness of the soil, afforded but a very
precarious and uncertain hold. The soil itself, too, crumbled away
immediately beneath his touch, so that at the very top of the precipice
he was unable to find anything to which he could safely hold. For a
short time it almost seemed as if these apparently trifling obstacles
were about to baffle him altogether, and it was not until he had
actually laid bare the rock immediately in front of him, as far as his
arm could reach, that he accomplished his object, and stood safely on
the top of the cliff.
He now threw himself flat on the ground in the long grass, thus
effectually concealing himself from the view of any chance passer-by,
and crawled to the crest of the hill, where he again peered cautiously
about him. The ground, from the spot whereon he knelt, declined pretty
steeply to the sea, only a quarter of a mile distant; slightly to his
right there lay a valley, with a tiny river flowing through it into the
sea; and on either bank of this stream there stood two or three crazy
wattle-huts, scarcely worthy the name of human habitations, with a net
or two spread behind them on poles in the sun to dry. Three or four
fishing-canoes and a boat--a ship's boat, which looked as though it had
been picked up derelict--were moored in the stream; but human beings,
there were none visible. In line with the river, commencing at a
distance of about two miles from the shore, and extending right out to
the horizon, there lay a group of islets, some forty or more in number;
and far away beyond them, lying like a thin grey cloud of haze on the
water, he could see the Isle of Pines.
"So far, so good," thought George. The spot was evidently a lonely one,
inhabited by a few fishermen only; there was no sign of any watch being
maintained on the chance of the runaways putting in an appearance, so
the chase had doubtless by this time been abandoned as hopeless; there
was a capital boat--which, in his urgent necessity, he felt he need not
scruple to appropriate--lying in the stream below, and everything
promised favourably for a successful escape from the island.
But though the scene below looked so quiet and deserted, and though the
boat lay there so temptingly within sight, Leicester felt that the
evening would be the most suitable time for making their final effort;
they were in no immediate hurry now, and it was scarcely worth while to
risk detection by putting off in broad daylight. Besides, the
sea-breeze was blowing half a gale, and in their exhausted condition
they would scarcely be able to drive the boat ahead against it; whilst,
by waiting until sundown, they would have it calm to start with, and the
breeze, when it came, would be off the land and in their favour.
Thus arguing the matter with himself, he rose to his feet, and sauntered
leisurely back to the cliff-edge on his return journey.
He was surprised and greatly disconcerted now to discover how easy it
was to miss the spot at which he had made his ascent. The strong
breeze, sweeping over the grass, had obliterated every trace of his
recent passage through it, but he confidently walked in what he believed
to be the right direction--only to find himself mistaken. The bare
patch of rock which he had cleared to facilitate his passage over the
edge was of course, when once found, an unmistakable landmark; but he
was quite five minutes walking to and fro on the cliff-edge before he
hit upon it, and quite long enough to have insured his capture had he
been surprised and closely pursued.
Having at last found it, however, he forthwith began his descent; and
here again he was disagreeably reminded of the much greater difficulty
which is experienced in the _descent_ than in the _ascent_ of a cliff.
His difficulties began with his first attempt to lower himself over the
cliff-edge; and, notwithstanding his utmost care, he several times found
himself in positions of the most appalling peril. He, however, got down
safely to the cavern at last, and, after detailing to Tom the result of
his observations, threw himself down on the rocky floor, to recover in
sleep, if possible, the strength and nerve necessary for their final
ascent.
When George awoke, the sun was within about an hour of setting. There
was, therefore, time for him to go out and secure for his companions and
himself another meal of the wild raspberries, which he accordingly did.
The fugitives had all their preparations complete in good time, and,
when everything was quite ready, Leicester went out and stood at the
entrance to the fissure, watching the shadows creep gradually higher and
higher up the eastern side of the ravine as the sun declined toward the
horizon. At length the last golden gleam vanished, the entire landscape
assumed a hue of rich purple-grey, rapidly deepening in tone as the
darkness of the tropical night settled swiftly down; and the supreme
moment had arrived.
Returning at once to the interior of the cave, George briefly announced
that it was time to start; Walford, already securely lashed in his
hammock, was at once hoisted up between George and Tom as before, and,
issuing from the mouth of the fissure, the fugitives forthwith began the
last and most perilous part of the ascent.
They had scarcely risen a couple of yards when rapid hoof-beats were
heard in the valley below, and, pausing for a moment to glance down,
George saw a mounted figure galloping rapidly up the valley. He
recognised it at once as one of their former pursuers, and saw in a
moment how completely these pertinacious man-hunters had outwitted him.
It immediately became clear to him that, failing to pick up the trail at
the top of the precipice, these fellows had jumped to the conclusion
that, improbable as it might seem, their prey must still be lurking
hidden somewhere on the face of the precipice, and, doubtless during the
previous night, the individual just seen had returned, and, secreting
himself among the bushes below, had maintained an untiring watch on the
face of the cliff. There could be no doubt that he had seen George's
ascent of the cliff that morning, and, observing him to be alone, had
rightly concluded that the journey up the cliff had been made for the
purpose of a reconnaissance, and had therefore remained _perdu_,
satisfied that before long his patience would be rewarded, as it had
been, by witnessing the attempted flight of the whole party.
These reflections flashed like lightning through George's brain, and
helped him to an instant decision.
"We _must_ go on _now_!" he exclaimed to Tom. "They have discovered our
hiding-place, and if we were to return to it, they would simply blockade
the top and bottom of the precipice, knowing that, sooner or later, we
must inevitably fall into their hands; and, in addition to that, they
would spread the information of our position all over the country, and
perhaps offer a reward for our capture, in which case we should have
perhaps a hundred watching for us instead of half-a-dozen. We have a
chance yet; for it will take them fully twenty minutes to ride round, by
which time, if we are fortunate, we can reach the boat. Now, Tom, my
lad, do your utmost; in twenty minutes we shall either have won our
freedom or relapsed into slavery for ever."
Not another word was now said by either of them until that awful climb
was over and they had, after countless hair-breadth escapes, safely
reached the top of the cliff. When at last they once more stood on
comparatively level ground, they felt as though their limbs had no
strength to carry them another yard upon their way, so exhausting had
been the superhuman efforts which they had put forth. But there was no
pause--no rest for them yet; onward they must still press at their
topmost speed, or all that they had hitherto endured would be in vain.
The short journey from the top of the precipice to the summit of the
rising ground was a cruel one; the slope, gentle though it was, telling
upon them terribly as they staggered forward over the long slippery
grass, panting, breathless, staggering and stumbling at every step, and
dreading every moment to hear the triumphant shout announcing the
arrival of their pursuers upon the scene.
But, so far, save that of their own laboured breathing, not a sound of
any kind broke in upon the deep stillness of the evening hour; and, when
at last they surmounted the crest of the hill, the scene below was one
of peaceful solitude.
"Now one more--one _supreme_ effort, Tom, and in five minutes we shall
be free," gasped George. "Muster all your courage and resolution, and
let us make a run for it. Can you do it?"
"Ay, ay, sir, I'll try," was the scarcely articulate reply, and without
more ado they set off down the slope at a run.
A run? Well, yes, it was a run, if it was anything at all; but such a
run! Their limbs felt like lead, and Walford's weight seemed to them
enough to drag them down to the very centre of the earth. Every
individual blade of grass seemed to be invested with the toughness of a
hempen cable, and to trail directly across their path for the express
purpose of retarding their progress and tripping them up. Their breath
was gone; their mouths were open and gasping; their hearts were beating
like sledge-hammers against their ribs, and pumping the blood in a great
red-hot tide up into their heads; their brains reeled; their sight began
to fail them; and what little of the scene was still perceptible to
their disordered vision was apparently whirling in a mad dance up and
down, round and round them, until they could not tell whether they were
going right or wrong.
Yet on they still staggered and stumbled, first one, then the other,
falling prone to the earth, but up again in an instant, and on once
more.
At last they were at the base of the hill; another half-a-dozen yards,
and they would be beside the stream; another twenty, and they would be
in the boat. Hark! what sound is that? The dull thud of horses' hoofs
upon the turf! With what headlong speed the riders are pressing
forward! And--ha! there is the exultant shout which tells that the prey
is in sight.
"Thank God, there are no dogs with them," thinks George. "Are there
not?" Then what means that deep, sonorous baying sound which breaks
with such startling distinctness on his frenzied ear? "On! on! for the
love of God, press on!" gasps George; and with something almost like
renewed effort the fugitives once more spring forward.
Hark! now you can hear the deep panting of those hell-hounds as they
lunge forward at a gallop, silent now that their prey is in sight, their
flaming eyes fixed upon the flying men in front of them, and their jaws
champing in horrible anticipation.
One more bound, and the boat is reached. Poor Walford is tumbled
unceremoniously into her; George and Tom follow, the latter wrenching
from the foetid mud the stake to which the rotting painter is attached,
whilst the former, with a last desperate effort, sends the crazy craft
into the middle of the stream. As he rolls in over the gunwale a heavy
splash is heard, and some cumbrous body scurries from the slimy bank
into the water, whilst at the same moment the foremost hound, a
magnificent creature, as big and as lithe as a panther, springs boldly
after the receding boat. He _almost_ reaches her, not quite, his front
paws catch upon the gunwale, but the rest of his body falls short and
drops into the water. A thrust from one of the oars sends him clear of
the boat, and, with a baffled howl, he turns and swims for the shore.
He is within three feet of the bank when a something, which looks like a
log of charred timber, rises to the surface behind him, two gleaming
eyes glare at him, and, with a horrid snap, a pair of serrated jaws
close upon his hind quarters, and he is dragged back and under, to
furnish a meal to the terrible _cayman_.
But the fugitives have no time for more than the merest superficial
glance at this canine tragedy, for their human pursuers are now close at
hand. The thowl-pins, luckily, are already in their places, left there
by the fishermen, who have been too lazy to remove and stow them snugly
away; the oars are therefore hastily caught up and tossed into their
places, the boat is spun round like a top until her head points seaward,
and, with vigorous strokes, the two men send her foaming out along the
narrow river-channel toward the sea.
The pursuers rein up upon the bank, and with one accord draw their
pistols, and open a fusillade upon the flying boat. Fortunately it is a
harmless one; one bullet lodges in the stern transom, a second chips a
shaving off the loom of George's oar, a third passes harmlessly through
the planking of the boat's bow and skims a few yards along the surface
of the water beyond, and the remainder fly wide.
But, after _so long_ and persevering a hunt, these men are not disposed
to sit still tamely and witness the escape of those whom they have sworn
to take back with them, dead or alive, to the plantation; so, after a
few minutes of hurried consultation, three of them dismount, and,
hauling one of the canoes to the bank, enter her and start in chase.
The way in which they handle the paddles and send the light craft
surging down the river in the wake of the boat proves that they are no
novices in the boatman's art, but neither are the two of whom they are
in chase. George and Tom have already nearly forgotten their terrible
fatigue; they are fast recovering their wind; their legs--the members in
which they suffered most severely--are now comparatively at rest, an
entirely new set of muscles is brought into action, and, as they are
perfect masters of the art of handling an oar, they are getting a
surprising rate of speed out of the old boat without very much effort.
In a couple of minutes they are clear of the river's mouth, through the
rollers which are breaking on the miniature bar, and heading fairly out
to sea.
But human endurance has its limits, and after they had been tugging away
for half an hour at the clumsy, ill-made oars, their exertions began to
tell upon them. Their strength began to flag, and the canoe, which they
had hitherto contrived to keep at a distance, began slowly to gain on
them, though how much they could not well tell, as it was by this time
quite dark, and they could only distinguish her as a small, dark,
shapeless blot on the surface of the water, with a tiny luminous ripple
under her bow. They were just beginning to discuss their probabilities
of success, should it come to a hand-to-hand fight with those three
armed and unfatigued men, when a faint puff of warm air fanned their
faces.
"Thank God!" exclaimed George fervently, "thank God! there is the first
puff of the land-breeze."
With that he began to fumble with one hand at the lashings of the sail
which lay stretched fore and aft along the thwart beside him, working
his oar with the other hand meanwhile, and after a little difficulty the
knot which secured them was cast loose, and the turns partially thrown
off.
"Now, Tom, you must finish the job," exclaimed George; "you can reach
and throw off the rest of the turns where you sit; the sail is a lug by
the feel of it--at all events, here is a yard of some sort lying
alongside the mast--and when you have cast off the lashings and are
ready to step the mast, say the word, and lay in your oar; then I'll
scull the boat, whilst you step the mast and hoist the sail. Hurrah!
here comes the breeze, hot and strong; get the canvas on her, and at
last we shall be able to enjoy a rest. If those fellows are wise now,
they'll 'bout ship at once, and make for the shore, five minutes hence
it will be blowing fresh, and, if they don't look out, they'll be blown
off the land altogether. Are you ready? Then in oars, step the mast,
and sway away upon the halliards."
So said, so done; Tom tossed in his oar, seized the mast, and stepped
it. The halliards were already bent to the yard--laziness again, the
fishermen evidently having been too indolent to cast them adrift,
knowing that they would only have to bend them on again when next they
wanted to use the sail--and in another minute Tom had the sail
mastheaded, the tack lashed down, and the sheet aft in George's hand;
whilst the latter, sinking down in the sternsheets with a sigh of
ineffable relief, and too tired yet to ship the rudder, steered the boat
with the oar which he had used for sculling, whilst Tom was busied in
the operation of making sail.
The canoe, meanwhile, had crept up to within her own length of the
chase, and oaths and exclamations of mutual encouragement were freely
mingled with peremptory orders to the fugitives to surrender, and
threats of the punishment awaiting them when caught; but no sooner was
the sail set than the boat drew rapidly away, and in ten minutes more
the canoe, with its occupants still paddling furiously out to sea, was
invisible. George confidently expected to be saluted with a parting
shower of bullets, but he was agreeably disappointed, owing possibly to
the circumstance that in the hurry of pursuit the crew of the canoe had
omitted to bring their ammunition with them.
For the first four hours of their flight the voyagers were sailing
continuously among the group of low islets which George had seen from
the top of the hill; but about midnight, as nearly as they could guess,
the last rock was passed, and they found themselves in open water.
And now the want of a chart made itself disagreeably manifest. George
was quite seaman enough to be able to steer a tolerably straight course,
using the stars as a guide by night and the sun by day; but
unfortunately, having nothing but his memory to go by, he had only a
very vague notion of the proper course to steer, and of the distance
which they would have to travel. His plans, moreover, were by no means
fixed. One of his ideas was, to stand boldly out to sea in a
south-easterly direction, in the hope of hitting Jamaica, where they
would at once find themselves among friends able and willing to help
them. But against this plan there were several grave objections, the
chief of which was his uncertainty as to the exact position of the
island and the consequent probability that, from its small size, they
would miss it altogether. Then, again, they were absolutely without
food or water. It is true, there were a few scraps of putrid fish in
the boat, and Tom had found a fishing-line under the bottom-boards
forward, so that, having a line and the wherewithal to bait it, they
might possibly succeed in catching a _few_ fish. But then it would
obviously not do to rely on such a mere chance as that. Another idea
was to get into the open water southward of the Isle of Pines, and look
out for either an English frigate--one of which would be pretty certain
to be cruising in that direction--or an eastward-bound merchantman from
Honduras.
This plan seemed to George the most feasible under the circumstances,
and in favour of it he finally decided.
The first matter to which they devoted themselves, on finding that they
had no longer anything to fear from the canoe, was Walford's comfort.
The poor fellow made no complaint--indeed he had scarcely opened his
mouth to utter a word since the moment when he received his injury,--but
it had for the last two days been growing increasingly apparent to
George that his unfortunate rival was rapidly sinking into a very
critical condition. Under the combined effects of the injury, exposure,
and want, he was wasting visibly away; his strength was so completely
gone that he was quite unable to move without assistance; and George had
once or twice asked himself the question, whether he was justified in
involving this poor weak demented creature in the sufferings which there
was only too much reason to believe still awaited them. Would it not
have been truer kindness, he asked himself, to have left Walford in some
sheltered spot where there would be a certainty of his being speedily
found and taken care of? But reflection satisfied him that it would
not. To have left him in the hands of the Spaniards would have been to
leave him in slavery for the remainder of his life; and, judging by
himself, Leicester felt that death itself would be preferable to such a
fate. Then, again, there was the possibility--a slender one, it is
true, but still a possibility--of their speedy rescue; in which case,
with the care and nursing which he would be sure to receive, there was
no reason why Walford should not recover both his health and his
intellect.
So, comforting himself with the reflection that he was doing the best he
could for the unfortunate man, George arranged a comfortable berth for
him in the sternsheets of the boat, and deposited him thereon, still
lashed up in his canvas hammock, the grass packing of which formed a
comparatively soft and comfortable support to his emaciated frame.