Now, through one of those coincidences which occur oftener in this life than is supposed, the catboat had touched shore at the opening of a clearly-marked trail, leading into the interior. It was pure chance or providence, for even Martella knew nothing of the path, which was one of many that wound down to the river. It was his intention to plunge into the jungle with no other thought than that of immediately finding a hiding place for his friends and himself, when he happened upon the path. Yielding to impulse, he called out the fact and told the others to follow, as he hurried up the slight incline.
But a few paces told him this would never do, for their pursuers would be right behind them. He abruptly stopped.
“We must turn off,” he said, “and let them pass us.”
“They may not do so,” suggested Starland.
“They will not know where to look for us.”
He began picking a course among the matted vegetation, unmindful of the dangers that might threaten. Miss Starland went next, then her brother, and then Captain Guzman. They penetrated no more than twenty feet, when, at a whispered word from Martella, all halted, and, as they had done earlier in the evening, watched for their pursuers to pass. In this instance, however, the path was so screened that nothing could be seen, and our friends depended wholly upon their sense of hearing.
Less than ten minutes elapsed between the landing of the two parties. General Yozarro was the first to set foot on shore, and, noting the trail, he started up it on a lope, with the others hurrying after him. Their footsteps were heard by the crouching fugitives, who were unable to see a single shadowy form.
“How long will they keep that up?” asked Major Starland when the last had gone by.
“Not long,” answered Captain Guzman; “they know the Señorita cannot travel fast, and that, if we took the trail, they must quickly come up with us.”