Story 3--Chapter XI.
In Pursuit.
Edward Murray knew well enough the truth of the old clergyman’s remarks as he slowly followed Wahika back to the ruined farm, where the savage filled his pouch with such necessaries as he had collected together, intimating his wish that Murray should do the same; and then, once more, they started.
Wahika led, always smoothing the way for his companion; and he pounced from time to time, with every demonstration of satisfaction, upon some object of utility or provision that had been cast aside by the convicts on their march. Such as he could, he carried; the unnecessary things he concealed by the side of the track, taking every step forward with caution, lest too great a display of precipitancy should bring them suddenly upon the halting-place of their enemy.
At last Murray stumbled, and then fell heavily, for exhausted nature could do no more.
Wahika assisted him to a place that he had selected as secure; and then, in spite of Katie’s peril, Nature would have her way, and for some hours, Edward Murray slept, to wake stiff and sore, but refreshed. The wound on his head, too, was not so painful; and he lay for a while in the darkness wondering how he should proceed. The only thing he could decide upon was that they should endeavour to find out the convicts’ plan, and then try, by stratagem, to deliver their prisoners.
He touched the savage upon the shoulder, and he was upon his feet in a moment, bringing food from his pouch, and milk from a bottle; and then, feeling stronger and more fit to encounter the dangers before him, the young man examined, and, for the first time, loaded his gun, the savage nodding approval.
He would then have proceeded, but for the more wary guide, who lifted his finger towards the dark tops of the mountains, above which the stars still glistened, and in his broken English pointed out the advisability of waiting for day.
And it was well that they waited; for within a mile of them, high up in an almost inaccessible rift in the mountain side, the convicts had made their camp, two of their number being left below to act as sentinels; and had Murray proceeded, the chances were that he must have fallen in with them, and perhaps have been taken by surprise.
But as day broke, the native led the way cautiously, till from certain signs he felt convinced that the enemy was near; and motioning Murray to wait, he glided on silently, returning in a short time to conduct the young man with the utmost caution to the side of a rift, when he started, for within fifty yards of him, coolly smoking and talking, sat a couple of the convicts.
His start did not pass unheard, and the men glanced in their direction; but Wahika had chosen a well-sheltered spot, and after a few minutes’ anxious peering about, they were apparently satisfied, and resumed their seats upon a block of stone.
A motion of the savage’s hand made Murray draw back behind a dense mass of foliage; and then, from his knowledge of the country, intuitively guessing where the party would be, he led his companion for some distance back, and began climbing slowly up and up a way that seemed almost impracticable; the savage uttering more than one half-suppressed exclamation of surprise on finding that the vines and rope-like creepers were, in more than one place, broken away, as though some one had lately passed in that direction; for he did not recall that, a few hours before, he had given an invaluable lesson to another in the art of scaling these natural fortresses. The marks though were unnoticed by Murray, who climbed on and on, till compelled to rest; and then once more on till they reached a point where they could creep to the edge of a precipice; and peering between the fern-leaves, gazed down into a cuplike chasm, where, to the number of twenty or so, the convicts were gathered, some eating, some smoking and drinking, and so near that their voices could be plainly heard.
The savage laughed his satisfaction at the success of his quest; and then, clutching his companion by the shoulder, drew him back behind a screen of foliage; for his quick ear had caught the sound of rustling branches, then a slip as of some one descending from above; a stone fell too, struck the shelf where they had stood but a moment before, rebounded, and plunged down into the leafy sea far beneath.
The savage grasped his club, and his eyes glistened, while the click-click of Murray’s gunlock told that he too was prepared; but club and gun were lowered when, the next moment, the pale and scared face of Anthony Bray cautiously appeared from amidst the leaves, which he parted with the barrel of the gun he carried; and then, apparently knowing of the proximity of the convicts, he crawled to the edge of the precipice, and lay there watching them, till he uttered a cry of terror as Wahika glided to his side, and laid his hand upon his arm.
The next instant he had caught sight of Murray, and as the young men’s eyes met, Bray read in the stern glance that his treachery was known. Their greeting was sullen. There was no brotherly grasp of the hand, as between two men meeting after being engaged in the same cause, and escaping from a fearful death. But they knew that this was no time for personal enmity, and Murray was the first to speak.
“We are bound on the same mission, Mr Bray, and cannot afford to slight each other’s aid; but, by heaven, if I see the slightest offer of treachery again, I will shoot you as I would a dog. Your purpose here makes me forget the past; but look well to the future.”
Bray muttered a few words, and then Murray crept once more to the edge of the precipice, and looked down. He was so near that he could have thrown a stone amongst the party; and his heart beat tumultuously as he saw Katie sitting, clinging tightly to a woman by her side, and apparently weeping bitterly. He was so near that it seemed quite possible, as a last resource, that they might lie there in concealment, and with careful aim shoot down the wretches one by one; but his better feelings revolted against such a plan. No, they must use stratagem, and that too as soon as the night fell; for it seemed that it would be practicable to elude the convicts’ vigilance, and to take the prisoners from amongst them.
He crept back to Bray and Wahika, and told them his conclusions; when the former seemed almost to resent the proposal, as if it would afford him no pleasure should success attend their efforts; but Wahika muttered “Good,” and beckoning to them to follow, led them by a steep and rugged path amongst the ferns, over the next shoulder of the hill, and round to where they could look down into the chasm from the other side.
So dense was the undergrowth, and so precipitous were the rocks, that the convicts appeared to consider themselves in complete safety; for save at the foot of the ravine, no watch was kept, and the young men followed the savage carefully from crag to crag, until they lay in a chasm where they could even overhear the conversation of the ruffians; while more than once a stifled sob from the women made Murray’s heart to burn within him.
They were now so close that it seemed almost impossible for them not to be discovered; but hour after hour wore on, during which long consultations were held amongst the more earnest of the men, though the greater part seemed to give themselves wholly up to the riot and drunkenness they considered themselves to have earned. But it seemed that they were of divided counsels; some being for making the present their stronghold, and setting pursuit at defiance, while they made raids in different directions; others being for proceeding along the coast until they could seize another vessel, and cruise from place to place.
At this juncture, Bray saw Murray’s hands playing with the lock of his gun, with whose barrel he covered one of the men whom he saw go up to Katie where she sat; but his aspect of rage gave place to one of surprise as he recognised the face of the convict, and saw that his object was only to press food upon her, which, however, she waved away.
Had they, then, one friend in the camp? It seemed so; for upon a couple of others approaching the poor girl, the first man sturdily bade them go back, and on their refusal, placed himself before them, laughing at their threats, whereupon they drew back; but a cold shudder ran through Murray’s frame as one of the ruffians coarsely told the poor girl’s defender to wait until night.