All at once a ray of hope shot through my breast; just before me was old Gyp, my favourite dog, a great half-bred sheep and wolf hound, who was growling and snarling over a heap of what looked like sail cloth, but which inspection showed to be a tattered duck frock, filthily dirty, and stained with blood, evidently having been cut off by some wounded man.
Old Gyp was licking the bloody part, and growling angrily, and on my speaking to him, and encouraging him, he yelped and whined; and then, setting his nose to the ground, ran a few yards, looked back, yelped again, and then would have set off full speed along the trail, had I not called him back and tied a piece of tar band to his neck, holding the other end in my hand.
Abel’s eyes glittered as he saw the great powerful beast strain to be off, and then, without a word, we set off at a trot, and leaving the glowing fire behind, plunged into the darkness before us.
We reckoned that the villains had about two hours start, but encumbered, as we knew they must be, with booty, and the two women, we felt sure that, even with the horses they had doubtless taken, they could not have retreated at a very great rate; why, though we both felt that it was like plunging into the lion’s jaws, and that most likely one, if not both of us, would lose our lives in the impending struggle, there was not a thought in either of our breasts that savoured of fear, for the desire to overtake the villains was intense.
But it was a fearful task. The darkness was now terrible, and the eager beast struggled on, irrespective of bush or thorn, while every now and then some thick tuft in the track would trip me up. Abel had a hard task to keep up with me. But before daylight matters grew better, for we were in the wood, where there was scarcely any undergrowth, and when day broke we were threading our way through the sombre forest, where the tree trunks were all around, apparently endless, and so similar that only the sagacious beast before us, or a native, could have found a way through.
Now and then we could catch a glimpse of a star or two, but directly after the clouds seemed to close up again, and we stumbled on till a faint light announced the coming day, which found us blackened, torn, and bleeding, but as feverishly eager for the fray as ever.
As for track, that was invisible to us, excepting now and then, where the print of a horse’s hoof showed in a moist place, and told us that the faithful beast with us was worthy of the trust placed in him. Now we were out in the open, then making our way again through the tea-scrub, and then skirting a ravine beside the range of rugged, bleak rocks, standing out bold and barren, while the ravine, now here and there green, where a pool of water remained, or a tiny rivulet trickled along where we saw a rushing river in the rainy season.
If one’s heart could have been at rest how beautiful was the scene around, tree, bush, flower, and rugged mossy stone, where the track wound in and out, now down into the deep ravine, now crossing the little bright rill which sometimes trickled beneath the grass, and again appeared, leaping from rock to rock. Birds everywhere flitting and climbing about the trees, or hanging in places, like flowers of gorgeous hues.
But there was no peace for us, and we strode on till from the early freshness of the morning we were panting through the heat of the day, heat so oppressive that it grew unbearable, and but for the errand of life and death upon which we were engaged, we should have rested until the sun was again low down in the horizon.
Sooner or later we felt sure that we should come upon some traces of the marauders, and we were not disappointed, for, all at once, the dog gave a whining bark, and began snuffing about in the grass, where lay a bottle evidently but lately cast aside. Then on again, panting, with parched lips and tongue: any doubts that we had formerly had respecting the dog’s ability to trace the marauders being now fully put to flight.