“Dere he is! look dere!”
“Where?”
He pointed a little to the right of the lake; but, as Inwood followed the direction of his finger, he saw nothing, and so he said.
“He jest now dropped down—right dere—let’s foller him up,” exclaimed the negro, dashing straight at the spot, while Inwood speedily followed him, hardly certain whether he was acting prudently or not in doing so.
All the time they kept their eyes fixed upon the point, and the nature of the ground being such that the stranger could not escape without being seen, they were confident of either catching or identifying him. Jim made good progress despite his ungainly manner of traveling, and, in a few minutes, he came upon the place, which consisted of a small rock raised about a foot above the surface. Dashing forward, he made a spring over it, his immense feet coming down simultaneously and tremendously.
“Dere, I got you! hold still now, for you is fast!”
But he wasn’t, no one was there.