Down he went into the clear, cool stream, striking out so as to get well away from the bank as he did so, and then rising to the surface, to see, to his horror, that a good-sized boat, that had lain hidden amidst the reeds, was being pushed out, and with seven or eight occupants was coming in pursuit.
What was he to do? seek the shore again and take refuge in the jungle?
That seemed impossible; for he had plunged in so close to the boat that he would have been speared long before he could reach the place he had left, even if he had been able to swim against the stream.
Then, to his horror, he saw that the banks were perpendicular or else overhanging, and any attempt at climbing them from the water must have failed; for, as far as he could see, where he was being swept down not a tree laved an overhanging branch in the swift stream. There was only one course open to him, and that was to trust to the river, and swim for his life.
He had been taking this as his only chance as the above thoughts flashed through his brain; and now came in the value of his old school-day experience, when he had been one of the bravest swimmers of his age. In fact, as he swam on, recollections of the old alder and willow ait in the clear river came back, and he smiled as he turned upon his side and forced his way through the sparkling waters.
The position as he made the side-stroke was convenient, though not inspiriting; for as his cheek lay on the stream he could keep one eye upon his pursuers, who were now coming rapidly on. Fortunately for Gray, in their hurry and excitement the Malays had lost ground, so that the young soldier had a fair start before they bent regularly to their paddles. He could see, though, that a couple of men were standing upright in the boat, each with a foot upon the gunwale, and a spear poised in one hand, ready for hurling at the fugitive when within throwing distance.
Gray swam swiftly, but he saw that it was hopeless, and that he must soon be overtaken and perish. Still he did not despair, for his career had before now seemed as near its end. Nil desperandum was the motto of his life, and like some hunted hare he kept his eye upon his pursuers, meaning to try and dive the moment he saw an effort made to hurl a spear.
He might perhaps escape by diving. At all events, it was his only chance, and he swam on, with the boat now rapidly getting near.
Perhaps, he thought, they might not throw, but wait to thrust at him. If so, that would give him longer time; but no, there was no chance of that, for now he saw one of the Malays poise his spear, and draw himself back, to throw it with all his force.
Gray saw no more, but with a shuddering sensation, as he seemed to feel the deadly weapon pierce him between the shoulders, he made a tremendous effort, and dived down, swimming beneath the surface with all his might, till compelled to rise for breath.