Chapter Twenty Five.
Quong takes Refuge.
Our way was the same as the bear’s, for the simple reason that it was the only open level part we could find on that side of the valley. To our left, the rocks went up in huge, precipitous steps, and then went down to the right to where the river foamed along a couple of hundred feet below. And there, with the greatest regularity, were the great footprints which had deceived me, pretty close beside a little stream which trickled on along the level, till suddenly it turned to the right, and plunged down towards the river.
“Look!” said Gunson, pointing, and there were the footprints again, but turning off now to our right, while our way lay straight on.
“Then he’s gone!” cried Esau, eagerly.
Crash! Rush! There was the sound of breaking twigs, as if some monstrous creature was forcing its way through the undergrowth to the right, and I heard another rush behind me as I stood there behind Gunson, too much paralysed to run, as I saw him drop on one knee and raise the rifle to his shoulder.
The rushing noise continued, but it grew more faint, and Gunson rose to his feet.
“We’ve frightened him as much as he has frightened us. Here, hi! Hallo! where are you?” he cried, as he caught sight of two bundles lying on the ground where they had been dropped.
There was no answer.