Chapter Eighteen.
Escaped!
This was indeed a sorry trick that fortune, that perverse jade, had played him, meditated Jim. The chances were, too, that the fugitive would take the same direction as Douglas himself, in which case they would probably both be captured. This thought gave wings to the young Englishman’s feet, and he went bounding away down the hill like a startled deer, thinking of nothing but getting to cover as quickly as possible. But the unfortunate fact was that there was no place within at least a mile where a man could be concealed, and Jim knew well that long ere he could reach the strip of forest on which he was keeping his eye, he would be in full view of the pursuers should they happen to come that way, which was more than probable.
Stay, though; were both fugitives taking the same direction? There was not so much clamour perceptible now, and Jim pulled up suddenly to listen, at the same time looking back along the way by which he had come. For a few seconds dead silence reigned, and Jim was beginning to congratulate himself that the Chilian had taken another course, when round the corner of the hill he saw a figure emerge, flying along at a tremendous pace, and leaping every obstacle that came in its way; a moment later he heard a renewed uproar of shouts and curses, and he observed that the other fugitive was heading directly for him, doubtless with the pursuers hard on his track.
Then, at this critical moment, an idea flashed through Jim’s brain. He did not believe that the fugitive had yet caught sight of him, while the soldiers would not reach the corner for a few seconds, he hoped. Like a man shot, Jim flung himself prone on the ground, and commenced to crawl toward a large boulder which he had just caught sight of, and in less than half a minute he was ensconced behind a rock which was just big enough to afford concealment to one man, if that man had the sense to remain perfectly motionless. Then, stretching himself flat upon the ground, Jim cautiously peered round the edge of the boulder, in order to keep an eye upon the escaping prisoner, for a plan had come into his head which he thought might possibly be successful, and which was certainly the only one which offered any hope of his being able finally to get clear away.
Douglas had suddenly remembered that he was wearing a Peruvian soldier’s uniform; and his idea was to allow the fugitive to pass him and then join in the chase, trusting to luck that the pursuers would mistake him for one of themselves. He would, of course, take care not to overtake the Chilian,—let the poor man get away if he could, by all means,—but he thought that if he could himself lead the pursuit, so to speak, he might be able gradually to out-distance the rest of the soldiers, and thus finally get clear away by allowing the Peruvians to imagine that he was still keeping up the pursuit. Should the man be caught, however, Jim trusted to being able to slip away unseen amid the excitement, especially if the capture should happen to take place anywhere near that strip of forest country a mile or so ahead.
A very few seconds sufficed to show Jim that he had not been seen by the Chilian, and that the latter did not intend to avail himself of such an insecure hiding-place as the rock afforded, for he went dashing past at full speed, leaving Jim about a hundred yards to the left.
Just as the man fled by, his heavy gasps for breath sounding marvellously loud in the still air, the first of his pursuers put in an appearance round the corner of the hill, a quarter of a mile away, carrying his carbine at the trail; and he was immediately followed by about a score more soldiers, who began to shout themselves hoarse as they came in sight of their quarry. Then several of the Peruvians pulled up, and, dropping on their knees, levelled their carbines and began to blaze away at the running man. Douglas prayed that the unhappy creature might not be hit, for if he were, it would bring the pursuit to an end in the precise spot where Jim could not possibly avoid being discovered; but he need not have been alarmed; the shooting was execrable, and the bullets flew everywhere but near the fugitive. Several of them flattened themselves against the face of the boulder behind which Douglas was lying, and one nearly blinded him with the dust which it threw up as it plugged into the earth just in front of his face.
The Peruvians did not keep up their target practice very long, for they found it impossible to hit the runner, and realised that he gained a lot of ground when they pulled up to fire. They therefore rose to their feet and dashed along in pursuit once more, only occasionally discharging their weapons pistol-wise in the hope of a lucky bullet finding its billet.
And now they were approaching the rock where Jim was concealed; in a very few seconds he must be prepared to act, and to act quickly too. They evidently had no idea that a second prisoner was so close to them, for, to the young man’s great relief, they were aiming to pass the rock at a distance of quite eighty yards. Closer and closer they came, and as they did so Jim gradually edged his way round the rock in such a manner as to keep out of their sight as far as was possible. Another moment’s suspense and the leading soldier had passed the rock without giving it so much as a glance. Then another and another man panted past, until presently the rearmost Peruvian went grunting and gasping by.
In a second Jim had sprung to his feet and was scudding along in the wake of the rearmost soldier, at the same time edging away to the right of the rock in such a manner as to bring him directly behind the group of Peruvians. Then he put on the pace a little, and found that he could easily outrun any of the soldiers, since he himself was quite fresh while they were already somewhat winded. He soon overtook the last soldier, and began to pass him, his heart in his throat with apprehension lest the fellow should recognise him as one of the Chilian officers, and shout his discovery to the rest. But the fellow, although somewhat astonished to find that there had been a comrade behind while he thought that he himself was the rearmost man, paid little attention to his supposed comrade, being too much out of breath to do much thinking. Douglas passed him, unsuspected, and meanwhile kept his eye on the Chilian, who, although obviously failing in speed, was rapidly nearing the belt of forest.
Jim then put on another spurt, and passed a second soldier, then another, and still another, without attracting any particular attention to himself; and a few minutes later he found that he was leading the entire party of pursuers. So far so good; his back was now presented to them all, and they had therefore no opportunity to recognise his features; yet while he ran he had a very unpleasant feeling that he might expect a bullet to strike him between his shoulder-blades at any moment. But the bullet did not come; and he could tell, by the diminishing sounds of trampling feet that he was still steadily drawing ahead of the rest of the soldiers. At this moment the Chilian plunged into the thick brushwood, and was, in a few seconds, lost to sight, while a yell of angry disappointment and execration went up from the pursuing soldiery.
“Now,” muttered Douglas to himself, “if that fellow only knows what he is about, and keeps cool, he should be able to make his escape without much difficulty.” And he too plunged forward at top speed, in order that he also might get into the wood well in advance of the soldiers; for his own chance of escape depended upon his being able to give his “comrades” the slip. A few seconds more, and Jim saw a small opening among the brushwood disclosing an Indian “bush-path”; it was along this that the Chilian had gone, and Douglas now himself dashed into the wood, tearing his hands, face, and clothes on the sharp thorns with which the path was bordered.
Once inside the wood he was out of sight of the Peruvians; and hope lent wings to his feet. He fairly flew along the narrow pathway until he felt he must soon catch up the Chilian, if the fellow were still ahead; but, even when Jim came to a comparatively long length of straight path, he was unable to see any one, and he soon came to the conclusion that the man had, very wisely, slipped away into the thick undergrowth to wait until the pursuit had gone past and darkness should come on. Douglas resolved that he would do likewise, and increased his pace still more, so that he might be out of sight before the soldiers should enter the straight length of path, where, of course, they would be able to see some distance ahead. The Englishman was lucky in finding an opening in the thick wall of brushwood, and he plunged into the brake just a second before the pursuing soldiery came in sight, making a tremendous noise as he broke a way for himself, which he fervently trusted would not be heard amid the uproar that the Peruvians themselves were creating.
As soon as he had got about ten yards from the path he flung himself down at full length upon the ground, in a little open space which was clear of thorns, to recover his breath and listen to the sounds of the pursuit. At the same time he examined the breach of his carbine and, finding it empty, loaded it, wondering at the carelessness of the guard from whom he had so recently taken it. For a second or two the noise of the runners came nearer and nearer; and then, suddenly, there was a loud cry of “Halt!” followed by a terrific shouting and hubbub, the snapping of small branches, the crackling of undergrowth trodden down, and then—the report of a carbine.
“Carrajo!” muttered Jim, “they have sighted that unfortunate Chilian, then! I wonder how it was that I passed without seeing him? Poor beggar! I am afraid that they won’t show him much mercy—nor me, either—if they catch me,” he added.
But there was no more shooting, and from various parts of the wood men were heard calling to each other; so Jim surmised that it must have been a false alarm, and that the Chilian was still undiscovered. The soldiers were yet rather too far distant for Jim to hear what they were shouting to one another, but presently they approached near enough for him to catch the words, and he found that they were inquiring of one another whether there were any signs of the fugitive, and whether “any one had seen that swift-running man who entered the wood first.” The replies were to the effect that the Chileño had not yet been sighted, and that the “runner”—that was, of course, Jim himself—had also mysteriously vanished, but that the latter must be somewhere about, and that they would soon come across him.
Douglas was beginning to fear that the last part of the remark might very soon prove only too true, for it was evident that the Peruvians were slowly but surely working their way through the wood toward the place where he was concealed. Observing, therefore, that the undergrowth was fairly thin ahead of him, he started to crawl along so as, if possible, to get out of the course of the beaters before they should arrive on the spot. Grasping his carbine so that his hand covered the trigger-guard—in order to avoid any accidental discharge in consequence of the trigger becoming caught in some trailing twig—he began to creep forward, making as little noise as possible, and being particularly careful to avoid disturbing the bushes any more than he could help. The soldiers, luckily for him, kept up an incessant shouting, so that he was able to guess pretty well their relative positions; and, after about five minutes’ slow progress through the brushwood, he came to the conclusion that he had at last got out of their way. There was, too, a nice little open space wherein he could lie hidden without being in momentary fear of being bitten by a snake, a particularly deadly species of which was known to swarm in that locality.
By this time Jim had recovered his breath, and was eagerly awaiting the moment when it would be safe to move, wondering whether or not he had better remain where he was until darkness set in, when he was dumbfounded to hear some one come crashing through the brake, apparently quite close by, and making straight toward him. It could not be the Chilian, for he would never be making all that disturbance—unless indeed he had gone mad under the stress of being hunted—so it must necessarily be a stray Peruvian soldier. Jim at once sprang to his feet and began to poke about among the bushes with the muzzle of his carbine, as though searching for somebody who might possibly be hidden among them, at the same time turning his back on the approaching man, who was still pushing his way through the bush and singing softly to himself as he came.
Presently the noise sounded very close indeed, then still closer, when suddenly it stopped altogether. Jim knew that the other had seen him, and was doubtless wondering what he was doing there; but he dared not turn round for fear of being recognised; so he continued to poke about among the bushes, as though unaware that any one was present. Then a rough voice, which Jim at once recognised as that of his old enemy, Captain Garcia-y-Garcia, broke the silence with an explosion of Spanish profanity and a desire to be informed why this particular unit of the forces should be thus wasting his time instead of joining in the pursuit of the fugitive.
Douglas at once realised that the captain must have come along some time after his men, and that he had probably only just entered the wood. He also realised that, directly he turned round, Garcia-y-Garcia would infallibly recognise him, in spite of the Peruvian private’s uniform which he was wearing. He could also see, out of the tail of his eye, the glitter of a drawn sword which the man carried in his hand. But it was necessary to act at once, for at any moment the fellow’s suspicions might be aroused, or the soldiers might come back, or—
Like a flash Douglas wheeled round, bringing the carbine up to his hip as he did so, and looked the officer full in the face; while his forefinger curled caressingly round the trigger. The captain’s life hung by a thread, and he knew it, for he had recognised Jim as an escaped prisoner the moment that the latter showed his face.
“Ah!” gasped Garcia, his face turning ghastly white, “it is that scoundrel of an Englishman! From whom have you stolen these clothes, señor?” he went on, at the same time taking a fresh grip of his sword-hilt and moving slightly nearer to Douglas.
It was a lucky thing for Jim that he had never removed his eyes from those of Garcia, for he saw the murder that was lurking in them. Garcia was but trying to put him off his guard by asking that question, and Jim saw it. He had barely time to raise his carbine when the officer’s sword flashed in the air and the next second would have smote full upon Douglas’s head. But the young man caught the blow on the barrel of his weapon, turning the blade aside, and at the same instant he pushed the muzzle of the carbine into Garcia’s face and pulled the trigger!
There was a sharp, ringing report, and the Peruvian fell backward among the bushes, with his head blown to pieces. Jim hastily pushed the corpse out of sight, reloaded his rifle, and then started to run as hard as he could; for he knew that the explosion could not possibly pass unnoticed in that echoing wood; and, indeed, he immediately heard a chorus of excited shouting coming from somewhere away on his left. He therefore picked up his heels and ran for his life. Luckily he came upon another path, running at right angles to the main path, and into this he plunged, stripping off his long military overcoat as he ran. After running for about ten minutes, and getting thoroughly out of breath, he stopped to listen; and, to his great relief, found that all sounds had died away, and that the part of the wood where he found himself was as still as the grave.
He therefore pressed on again, but not so fast as before, and in half an hour’s time he fancied that the wood was beginning to grow less dense, and that he was therefore coming to its boundary; but it proved to be only a large wind-gap in the forest, across which he made his way as quickly as possible, striking into a still denser part of the wood on the other side. It was by this time beginning to grow dark, and Jim was considering ruefully the prospect of having to spend the night in the forest when he thought he heard a slight noise somewhere among the trees near him. He at once brought his rifle to the “ready,” and glared about him, searching the wood with his glances to see who or what the intruder might be. The next moment he sprang behind a tree; for it was certain that there was somebody close at hand. It could hardly be a Peruvian soldier so far away from his friends, thought Jim; moreover, the individual was treading stealthily, as though in fear of being heard. The next moment the fugitive Chilian pushed his way cautiously into the path, looking warily to right and left as he did so. Douglas immediately sprang out from his hiding-place, nearly scaring the man to death for a moment. The Chilian proved to be an officer who had formerly been on board the O’Higgins, and he and Douglas recognised each other instantly.
They at once sat down to talk matters over, and Jim soon found that his friend knew this part of the country very well, having been there before; and that he had decided to make for Arica, which was at this time in Chilian hands. Jim readily fell in with the plan, and after a good long rest the two men started away upon their arduous journey. They camped for the night on the outskirts of the wood, which they reached about midnight, and there made a meal off the provisions which each had been thoughtful enough to bring. These provisions lasted them a week, by which time they were approaching the region where they might hope to find the Chilian outposts. But they had either miscalculated the distance, or the Chilians had retreated, for it was another week before they finally came into contact with a Chilian force at Tacna; and, meanwhile, they had had to procure food at the muzzle of Jim’s carbine, for the country-folk soon perceived that the two fugitives were escaped Chilian prisoners.
As soon, however, as they fell in with Colonel Barros, in command of the first company of the Taltal regiment, stationed at Tacna, their troubles were over. He at once provided them with mules and a small escort, at the same time lending them as much money as he could spare. And after a stay of three days with this hospitable and kindly man they took their departure, arriving at Arica two days later; and there, before their eyes as they came in sight of the harbour, lay the Blanco Encalada, the Chilian flagship, a sight which Jim thought the finest that he had ever seen. The O’Higgins was there also, together with three other ships; and the two scarecrows lost no time in repairing on board their respective vessels.
Jim Douglas’s reception on board was one which he will remember all his life. He was instantly shouldered by his brother officers and carried off to the ward-room, where he was made to detail all his adventures, the captain and admiral being at the moment ashore. It was nearly midnight before Jim had finished; and, the admiral being still ashore, he retired to his bunk and slept the sleep of the utterly weary.
The next thing he knew was that he was being violently shaken, while a voice cried, “Rouse up, amigo; rouse up! The admiral has just come on board; and, having been informed of your return, desires to see you immediately. Hurry up! for I believe, from the look of the old gentleman, that he has something good in store for you. It’s just nine o’clock, and he breakfasts in ten minutes; so look sharp.”
Jim did “look sharp.” He dragged a uniform out of his chest, slipped it on, and in less than ten minutes was standing shaking hands with Admiral Riveros.