Chapter Seventeen.
On the Face of the Precipice.
The cane-knives were speedily at work; the grass was long and abundant, and as the two men were working for liberty—nay, probably for life itself—they were not long in cutting a sufficient quantity for their purpose. Walford was then lifted carefully out upon the ground, the grass was thickly and evenly distributed over the inner side of the hammock, and then the invalid was again deposited within it, and securely lashed up, his head only being left free. This done, two lanyards were securely attached to the extempore hammock, one at its head, and the other at its foot.
“Well done; that’s capital!” exclaimed George, as the last turn was taken, making all secure. “Now slip the bight over your—ah! here come the dogs, by all that’s unfortunate. We must defend ourselves with the cane-knives. I’ll tackle the first one, you take the next, and—mind—we have no time to waste; luckily there are only three of the brutes as yet; we must kill them, and be up out of reach before the others or their masters arrive. Keep steady, Tom, my lad, and strike so that one blow shall be sufficient. Now then—come on, you devils!”
As George finished speaking, the dogs—three superb specimens of the Cuban bloodhound—dashed up to within about ten feet of the fugitives, and there stopped, not attacking them, as they had expected, but merely baying loudly.
“This will not do,” exclaimed George; “if we turn our backs upon them for a single instant, they will seize us; and we cannot afford the time to stand looking at them. I will take the dark one, you attack the light fellow, and mind what you are about, for they are as strong and active as tigers. Now!”
At the word both men sprang forward with uplifted cane-knives, and made a slash at the dogs. The creatures tried to dodge the blows, and one of them—the one attacked by Tom—succeeded. George, however, was more fortunate; he made a feint, and as the dog sprang aside, he followed him up, recovering his weapon smartly at the same time, and bringing it down in another second on the creature’s head with such strength and effect that the skull was cloven open, and the poor brute, with a yell of agony, rolled over dead. Tom, meanwhile, was battling ineffectually with the dog he had attacked, and George turned just in time to see the hound spring savagely at the lad’s throat, and hurl him to the ground. With a single bound Leicester reached Tom’s side, and raising the cane-knife above his head, and grasping the handle with both hands, he brought it down with all his strength across the dog’s neck, taking care to avoid the thick leather collar which protected it. The blow clove through skin and bone, dividing the spine and nearly severing the head from the body; but even then it was difficult to free poor Tom from the iron jaws which had seized him. With a vigorous wrench, however, this was effected, and George then dragged the lad to his feet.
“Are you hurt?” panted Leicester.
“No,” gasped Tom. “The beast only seized me by the collar of my jacket, and—”
“Then come on at once,” interrupted George; “the third dog has turned tail, like a craven, luckily for us. Now slip the bight of the lanyard over your neck, and follow me. Leave the cane-knives; they will only encumber us, and perhaps throw us down the face of the precipice. Now, look out, I’m going to start.”
As George spoke, he approached the face of the precipice, and, taking advantage of whatever projections he could find, began the task of scaling it, Tom following behind, and Walford slung in his make-shift hammock between the two.
They worked desperately, these two men, knowing how much depended upon the next few minutes, and an onlooker would have been astounded at the progress they made, encumbered as they were with the weight and bulk of their helpless companion.
In one minute from the time of starting they had gained a height of forty feet, and then the sudden trampling of horses’ hoofs, and the loud shouts of their pursuers told them that the latter had rounded the bend, and that they were seen.
In a few seconds the sounds ceased at the foot of the cliff, and in another instant the voice of the head overseer was heard shouting to them—
“Hola there! Giorgio—you miscreant—come down, or I will fire!”
“Keep steady, Tom,” gasped George. “Let them fire; the chances are ten to one that they will miss us. Do you feel nervous, lad?”
“Not I,” answered Tom; “never felt steadier in my life, cap’n. This rope is cutting into my shoulders awful bad, though.”
“So it is into mine,” returned George; “but we must grin and bear it now, until we get to the top. And—whatever you do—look up, boy; if you look down, you’ll grow dizzy, and, likely enough, slip; then down we must all inevitably go.”
“Are you coming down, you rascals?” shouted the overseer.
“It don’t look much like it, I reckon, senhor,” chuckled Tom to himself, hoisting himself over the edge of a good broad ledge of rock as he spoke, a ledge some ten feet in width.
“Now!” exclaimed Leicester, as he helped the lad up, “we’ll rest here a minute or two, and recover our breath. They may blaze away at us as long as they like now; we’re as safe from their bullets as if they were a dozen miles away.”
The overseer and his companions, however, seemed to think differently, for the fugitives had scarcely settled themselves comfortably, when a regular fusillade was opened upon them; but, as George and Tom were completely sheltered by the projecting ledge, none of the shot came near them.
They were now about half-way up the cliff, and from this position an excellent view presented itself for some distance up the ravine which they had just left; but both George and Tom, now that they were sitting quietly down, and had leisure to think about it, felt the sense of empty space immediately before them, and of the sheer precipice which they knew lay beyond that narrow ledge, to be exceedingly trying to the nerves.
Presently the clatter of horses’ hoofs came ringing upward to them from the bottom of the ravine, and, peering cautiously over the edge of the rock, George saw that the party of man-hunters, accompanied by four bloodhounds, had started off at a gallop on their way back to the entrance of the cul-de-sac. He at once guessed that their intention was to ride round over the hills, and endeavour to pick up the trail again at the top of the cliff.
The act of looking downward from so great an elevation, and the sight of the sheer precipice, on the very edge of which he was hanging, with absolutely nothing to prevent him from falling over and going whirling headlong down to the bottom, produced in George a sudden attack of vertigo. The whole landscape appeared to rock to and fro; the ledge upon which he was standing seemed to sway suddenly forward over the abyss and threaten to launch him into space; he felt himself wavering upon the very brink, and an almost uncontrollable impulse seized him to spring off and take that terrible downward flight. Another glance downward, and the impulse became irresistible. He drew back a step, braced himself for the terrible leap, flung his arms above his head, and, uttering a piercing cry, was in the very act of launching himself forward over the edge, when Tom, happening to glance at him, and to detect his suicidal determination just in time, sprang up, and, with a cry of amazement and horror, dragged him forcibly back against the wall of rock behind.
“Why, cap’n!” exclaimed the lad, as soon as he had sufficiently recovered from his astonishment to speak,—“why, cap’n, whatever’s the matter with yer? What was you goin’ to do?”
For the moment poor George was too unnerved to speak. The instant that he was dragged back from the ledge, the horrible fascination lost its hold upon him; he suddenly realised in its fullest extent the frightful peril from which he had been so providentially snatched, and, covering his face with his hands, as the revulsion of feeling came upon him, he shook and quivered like an aspen-leaf. A minute or two more and this dreadful feeling also passed away, his calmness and self-possession returned to him, and, placing himself upon his knees, there on that narrow ledge of rock he humbly returned his hearty thanks to God for his preservation, and prayed for help and deliverance for himself and his companions in their present sore need. Then, turning to Tom, he said—
“Thank you, Tom; you have saved my life as surely as ever man’s life has been saved by a fellow-creature in this world. I was in the very act of springing off the rock when you dragged me back, and, but for you, my body would at this moment be lying mangled and lifeless a hundred feet below. I do not know how it was, but when I looked down over the edge, I turned giddy and sick all in a moment, and then I felt that I must fling myself down the precipice. Let this be a warning to us both, my lad; for it shows that, steady as are our heads aloft at sea, they are not to be too much depended upon when climbing precipices on shore. But, come! it is high time that we should be moving again; those fellows are half-way to the head of the valley by this time, and if we are not smart, they will have us yet. Do you feel sufficiently rested to tackle the other half of this cliff?”
“Ay, ay, cap’n, I’m ready,” answered Tom; “but, for the Lord’s sake, sir, and for all our sakes, don’t you go for to look down and get tempted to jump off again. Perhaps I mightn’t be able to stop you next time, you know.”
“All right, Tom, never fear,” answered George; “I’ll take care not to run such an awful risk again, you may be sure. Now are you ready? Then take your end of this poor fellow, and let us be moving.”
But, now that they were ready to resume their ascent, another terrible difficulty presented itself. On looking upward for a projection by which to raise himself, Leicester for the first time became aware that the ledge on which they stood marked a change of strata. Below them it was all hard rock; above the ledge he could see nothing but a vertical unbroken face, some twenty feet in height, of soft crumbling sandstone, so soft indeed that it scarcely merited the name of stone at all, but might be more fitly described as solidly compressed red sandy soil, of such slight tenacity that it was possible to scrape it away with the naked finger. To climb this smooth crumbling face, even with the aid of a ladder, George at once saw would have been utterly impossible; for, though it has been spoken of as vertical, it was not strictly so; it inclined slightly forward, so as actually to overhang them, and a ladder would therefore not have stood against the face; how, then, could they hope, encumbered as they were, to surmount it? The task was an obvious impossibility, and George saw that it would be necessary to seek for a practicable place elsewhere.
Accordingly Walford was once more laid upon the rock, with Tom to watch him and guard against any possible mishap, whilst George went off upon an exploring expedition.
He first tried to the left, passing along the ledge very cautiously, with his face turned to the wall, so that he might not again be exposed to the terrible temptation from which he had so recently escaped. At first he had great hopes of success, the ledge beginning to slope upward as he passed along it to the eastward; but when he had traversed some fifty yards or so, it suddenly narrowed away to nothing under a projecting angle of the superimposed sandstone, and in endeavouring to get a glimpse round this angle, the soft material crumbled in George’s grasp, he lost his hold, staggered, reeled, struggled ineffectually to recover his balance, and fell. For a single instant he gave himself up as lost, and suffered in anticipation all the agonies of a frightful death; but he had not fallen more than six feet, when his outstretched hand encountered a long, stout, flexible twig, or rather a young tree, shooting out from an interstice in the rocks. He grasped it with the iron grip of a drowning man, grasped it with both hands, and, though it bent double with his weight, it held out bravely, and enabled him to regain his footing on the face of the precipice. In another moment he had scrambled once more on to the ledge, where he lay panting, breathless, with torn and bleeding hands, but safe.
The appalling peril from which he had thus a second time so narrowly escaped, inflicted a terrible shock on George’s nerves, and it was some time before he could find courage to once more raise his head and look about him. The reflection, however, that two men, one of them utterly helpless, were in the same perilous situation as himself—having indeed been brought directly into it by him—helped him to once more recover the command of his nerves, and, somewhat ashamed of their unexpected weakness, he scrambled to his feet and set out to explore in the opposite direction.
By the time that he had once more reached the point where Tom sat patiently awaiting him, the dusk was closing down upon the landscape with all the rapidity peculiar to the tropics, and, shrouded as they were in the deep shadow of the precipice, it was already difficult for them to see each other clearly. This meant still another danger added to those which already confronted them, and George felt that, unless a way of escape could quickly be found, they would be compelled to remain where they were all night, a prospect which involved so many horrible contingencies that he dared not allow his mind to dwell upon it, but, turning his attention strictly to the matter in hand, hurried away on his quest to the westward.
In this direction he was more successful, the ledge, at a distance of some thirty yards, running into a steep earthy slope, some ten or a dozen yards in height, above which the precipice again rose sheer to the top. And, as far as he could see in the quick-gathering darkness, this precipice again presented a rocky face, up the inequalities of which it might be possible for them to climb.
But a single glance was enough to assure George that the most perilous portion of their journey still lay before them. In the first place, the slope was frightfully steep, rising at an angle of fully fifty degrees from the horizontal; and, in the next place, it was covered with a long thick growth of grass, rendering its face almost as slippery as ice. And its lower edge terminated abruptly in a vertical overhanging face, similar to that which towered above the place where he had left Tom and Walford, so that, should either of them slip in traversing this dangerous part of their journey, they must all, lashed together as they were, inevitably slide and roll helplessly down and over the edge into the depths below.
As George contemplated the fearful dangers attending their further progress, the idea occurred to him that perhaps, after all, now that their pursuers had gone, and the ground was left clear below, it would be better to retrace their steps and endeavour to find another and more practicable way out of the ravine.
But a few seconds’ consideration of this plan convinced Leicester of its utter impracticability. They had, by superhuman exertions, succeeded in climbing up the precipice; but he knew that they could never get Walford safely down again. There was nothing for it, then, but to go on, and upward, even though they should find their pursuers awaiting them at the top, a contingency which so much lost time rendered only too probable.
Before going back, however, and attempting the passage up that awful slope, encumbered with Walford’s helpless body, George thought it would be prudent to essay the passage alone, so that he might learn, from actual experience, the full extent of the danger, and thus be the better able to guard against disaster.
Accordingly down he went upon hands and knees, and forthwith began the ascent. His first attempt proved to him that he had in no wise magnified the perils of the journey, for his knees slipped helplessly from under him the moment that they touched the grass, and it was only by clinging desperately with his hands to the long tough herbage that he escaped being shot down to the bottom and over the edge.
Returning once more to the friendly ledge, which, after the dangers he had so recently passed through, seemed to afford a position of absolute safety, George began to cast about in his mind for some means of overcoming this new difficulty, and at last he hit upon the idea of making a narrow pathway up the slope by pulling up the grass by the roots. This, however, he soon found would be a work of considerable time; but he also discovered that it would be possible, without any great difficulty, to remove small patches of just sufficient size to give a precarious, but comparatively secure, foothold, and this he at once proceeded to do.
Half an hour of arduous labour in this direction enabled him to safely reach the top of the slope, where, to his great gratification, he discovered another platform of rock, about six feet wide. Passing along this, he came suddenly upon an irregular fissure in the rocky face of the precipice. This fissure was about four feet wide at the bottom, the walls sloping inwards, like a roof, until they met at a height of seven or eight feet from the ground. George at once unhesitatingly entered the opening, and found that it widened somewhat as it receded from the face of the rock, until at a distance of some five and twenty feet inwards it abruptly terminated in a small, cave-like aperture, some six feet in height, and perhaps twelve in diameter, being, as nearly as he could ascertain, by the sense of touch only, roughly of a circular form.
George was inexpressibly thankful that he had been guided to this place of refuge, for here, he resolved, the party should pass the night, as they easily could, with the most perfect safety. It was by this time far too dark to attempt the awful risk of a passage up the precipice, and he felt sure that, even could they succeed in safely reaching the top, their pursuers would be found there, awaiting them. But this cavernous fissure afforded them the very shelter they required; its existence was, in all probability, absolutely a secret; and, even were it not so, it was inaccessible to all but those who chose to risk their necks in an effort to reach it; and, lastly, they could seek in it the rest they so absolutely needed, without the haunting fear of rolling over the precipice in their sleep.
Thinking thus, Leicester rapidly, but cautiously, made his way back to Tom, whom he found in a state of the greatest mental perturbation, owing to his prolonged absence.
Hastily describing to the lad the fortunate discovery which he had made, George made what few preparations were required for the short but dangerous journey before them, and then the two resumed their load, and with cautious steps wended their way along the ledge to the treacherous slope, it was by this time as dark as it would be throughout the night; but this circumstance rather lessened than increased their peril, for it prevented their realising as fully as in broad daylight the giddy height of the narrow path along which they were travelling; whilst the brilliant light from the stars overhead was sufficient to enable them to pick their steps, and find the bare patches in the grass, in which it was so imperatively necessary for them to plant their footsteps. At last, after nearly a quarter of an hour’s arduous labour, and several narrow escapes from a disastrous accident, the welcome shelter of the cave-like fissure was reached, and, feeling their way cautiously into it, they laid Walford down, released him from his uncomfortable bonds, and hungry, thirsty, and utterly fagged out as they were with the arduous labours of the day, threw themselves down beside him, and, with a half-unconscious thanksgiving for their preservation trembling upon their lips, fell at once into a profound slumber.
Their sleep lasted until late on in the following day, the sun being already low in the heavens when George was awakened by Walford with a querulous demand for food and drink. He at once rose, and, proceeding to the mouth of the fissure, effected a cautious reconnaissance, the result of which was the establishment of the satisfactory circumstance that no one was visible in the ravine below. The next point to be ascertained was, whether his pursuers—any or all of them—were still maintaining a watch for them on the cliff above. George had not the slightest doubt but that, when he saw them riding up the valley on the previous evening, they had resolved to ride round and intercept the fugitives, or pick up their trail at the cliff-top, if possible; the question to be settled was, whether, having failed in both these objects, they would establish a watch upon that part of the cliff at which the fugitives might be expected to make their appearance; or whether, believing that pursuit had been baffled, and an escape effected, they would return discomfited to the estate. Leicester was of opinion that, failing to detect any sign of the fugitives, and the dogs being unable to pick up the scent, a suspicion might occur to the minds of the pursuers that their prey was still lurking in some precarious resting-place on the face of the precipice, and, in that case, no doubt a strict watch would be maintained for some hours; but as to how long it would be before the patience of the watchers became exhausted, or before the conviction should thrust itself upon them that the fugitives had escaped, he could of course form no opinion. But, having thus far evaded capture, he thought it would be only prudent to make sure that the coast was clear before proceeding further in the prosecution of their flight.
Having come to this conclusion, he returned to the inner recesses of the cave, acquainted Tom with his intention to make a trip of exploration as far, if necessary, as the top of the cliff, and forthwith set out upon his mission.
George’s first act, on issuing from the fissure, was to cast a look aloft, in order that he might judge of the nature of the task still before them. The sight was anything but encouraging, the task of climbing that vertical face—perfectly smooth, to all intents and purposes, the projections and inequalities being so slight as to be barely distinguishable beyond a height of twenty or five-and-twenty feet—seeming to him, even after his recent experience of cliff-climbing, a sheer impossibility. To climb it, even unencumbered as he then was, was a task not to be lightly entered upon, and he determined that, before attempting it, he would seek further, and endeavour to discover a somewhat less difficult path to the summit.
With this object in view, he continued his way along the rocky platform upon which he was then standing, until he rounded a sharp angle, where it abruptly came to an end, and gave place to a rough, jagged, and broken face, very similar to that which they had ascended on the previous evening. Casting his eye over and up this uneven face, in an effort to pick out the most suitable path, his gaze was arrested by the sight of a bush growing out of the face of the rock. The bush was only some ten feet distant, and he was therefore close enough to it, not only to see that it was evidently a species of wild raspberry, but also to discern the very welcome circumstance that it was literally bending beneath its weight of ripe fruit. He was not long in making his way to the spot where it stood, and then, removing his jacket, and knotting the sleeves round his neck, he, with a seaman’s readiness of invention, converted it into a sort of bag, which he rapidly filled to its utmost capacity with the cool, ripe, refreshing juicy fruit. With this he hurried back to the inmates of the cave, and, laying it before them, bade them eat freely, returning himself to the bush, since it lay exactly in the way he intended to take, to satisfy the cravings of his own appetite.