At last Murray stumbled, and then fell heavily, for exhausted nature could do no more.
Wahika assisted him to a place that he had selected as secure; and then, in spite of Katie’s peril, Nature would have her way, and for some hours, Edward Murray slept, to wake stiff and sore, but refreshed. The wound on his head, too, was not so painful; and he lay for a while in the darkness wondering how he should proceed. The only thing he could decide upon was that they should endeavour to find out the convicts’ plan, and then try, by stratagem, to deliver their prisoners.
He touched the savage upon the shoulder, and he was upon his feet in a moment, bringing food from his pouch, and milk from a bottle; and then, feeling stronger and more fit to encounter the dangers before him, the young man examined, and, for the first time, loaded his gun, the savage nodding approval.
He would then have proceeded, but for the more wary guide, who lifted his finger towards the dark tops of the mountains, above which the stars still glistened, and in his broken English pointed out the advisability of waiting for day.
And it was well that they waited; for within a mile of them, high up in an almost inaccessible rift in the mountain side, the convicts had made their camp, two of their number being left below to act as sentinels; and had Murray proceeded, the chances were that he must have fallen in with them, and perhaps have been taken by surprise.
But as day broke, the native led the way cautiously, till from certain signs he felt convinced that the enemy was near; and motioning Murray to wait, he glided on silently, returning in a short time to conduct the young man with the utmost caution to the side of a rift, when he started, for within fifty yards of him, coolly smoking and talking, sat a couple of the convicts.
His start did not pass unheard, and the men glanced in their direction; but Wahika had chosen a well-sheltered spot, and after a few minutes’ anxious peering about, they were apparently satisfied, and resumed their seats upon a block of stone.
A motion of the savage’s hand made Murray draw back behind a dense mass of foliage; and then, from his knowledge of the country, intuitively guessing where the party would be, he led his companion for some distance back, and began climbing slowly up and up a way that seemed almost impracticable; the savage uttering more than one half-suppressed exclamation of surprise on finding that the vines and rope-like creepers were, in more than one place, broken away, as though some one had lately passed in that direction; for he did not recall that, a few hours before, he had given an invaluable lesson to another in the art of scaling these natural fortresses. The marks though were unnoticed by Murray, who climbed on and on, till compelled to rest; and then once more on till they reached a point where they could creep to the edge of a precipice; and peering between the fern-leaves, gazed down into a cuplike chasm, where, to the number of twenty or so, the convicts were gathered, some eating, some smoking and drinking, and so near that their voices could be plainly heard.
The savage laughed his satisfaction at the success of his quest; and then, clutching his companion by the shoulder, drew him back behind a screen of foliage; for his quick ear had caught the sound of rustling branches, then a slip as of some one descending from above; a stone fell too, struck the shelf where they had stood but a moment before, rebounded, and plunged down into the leafy sea far beneath.
The savage grasped his club, and his eyes glistened, while the click-click of Murray’s gunlock told that he too was prepared; but club and gun were lowered when, the next moment, the pale and scared face of Anthony Bray cautiously appeared from amidst the leaves, which he parted with the barrel of the gun he carried; and then, apparently knowing of the proximity of the convicts, he crawled to the edge of the precipice, and lay there watching them, till he uttered a cry of terror as Wahika glided to his side, and laid his hand upon his arm.