Away in the distance they could hear the barking of dogs. Even as they listened the barking got nearer.
‘Snap it up!’ Baird exclaimed. ‘They’ve got our scent.’
He turned and began to jog-trot down the path, while Rico blundered after him. Hater’s weight made it impossible for Baird to move fast. He had still some distance to cover before he reached the boat, and he knew he had to conserve his strength for a final burst.
The barking grew louder, and they could hear men shouting to each other. They kept on. Baird even managed to increase his speed a little, but he was already beginning to pant. Rico was so scared he scarcely knew what he was doing as he stumbled blindly along behind Baird.
With every yard of ground covered, the sound of the dogs became louder. Baird was gasping for breath when he saw the river ahead of him. He stepped off the path and dumped Hater in the undergrowth.
Rico came up panting. He kept looking over his shoulder, his eyes rolling. He was hysterical with exhaustion and fear.
Baird grabbed him and pulled him off the path.
‘We’ve got to nail those dogs,’ he said. ‘If they guess we’ve got a boat we’re sunk. They’l come after us in a motor launch. We wouldn’t stand a chance.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Rico sobbed, lying on his side and looking helplessly up at Baird.
Baird grabbed up the Winchester.