Leaves from a middy's log

by Arthur Lee Knight

Our position, without doubt, was a desperate one.

I do not think that I have ever, during the whole course of my life, run at such a pace as I did on that occasion. The bloodhounds’ cruel bays lent wings to my feet, and I seemed to fly over the ground like a hunted deer with the bloodthirsty cheetah upon its spoor. My companions were both fleet of foot and sound in wind and limb, but, of course, we had all suffered a good deal from our captivity and from insufficient food.

Ned had evidently been struck with the idea that the forest would afford us an asylum; but I must confess that, at the time, I had very little hope that we could throw the dogs off the scent. It appeared to me that the animals would track us among the trees, just as easily as over the open country.

Should we even succeed in reaching the forest first? I felt painful doubts on the subject, for my ears revealed the fact to me only too plainly that the bloodhounds were slowly but surely gaining on us. Still we had had a good start, and that was something to be thankful for.

The view was certainly getting clearer as we advanced. The rumblings from the raging crater were more indistinct.

As yet we had not spoken a word. We did not want to waste our breath, and all our energies were concentrated on covering the ground at as rapid a pace as possible. Ned led the way with a fixed look of determination on his face. He carried his rifle at the trail, but none of us knew whether it was loaded or not; for, strange to say, we had not thought of examining it, or the pistols either.

Thanks to the famous spurt we had put on, we were rapidly nearing the outskirts of the jungle. It did not seem to be more than a hundred yards distant. Owing to the greater clearness of the atmosphere, I could now see that the forest was rather dense, but that it was comparatively small in area, and sloped away towards the sea, from which it appeared to be divided only by ridges of sandhills.

Yes, there was the sea plainly enough now, but looking dark and disturbed, as if it too had felt the terrible rockings caused by the seismic earth-waves.

It was not more than a mile distant as the crow flies; and as the island was not lofty in any part, I do not suppose we were in reality more than two hundred feet above its level. I hastily scanned its surface, but could discern no sign of a boat or vessel. Owing to the calm state of the atmospheric currents, the vaporous clouds that continuously shot up from the crater did not drift over the sea to any considerable extent, but rolled up in spiral wreaths towards the zenith, and hung in space like a vast nigrescent pall.

It suddenly flashed across me that I had not heard the bloodhounds’ bays for some little time, although previously the sounds had been almost continuous.