By the time that the pair had sufficiently refreshed themselves the gloom of the departing day was deepening into the darkness of a moonless, starless night; and as they entered their hut the first shimmer of sheet lightning which was the precursor of the coming storm flickered above the tree-tops of the contiguous forest.
“Phew!” exclaimed Dick, as he flung himself upon the heap of dried fern that served him as a bed, “how unbearably hot and close it is, and how tired I am! I doubt if I could walk another mile, if my life depended upon it.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” gravely returned Phil; “for, unless I am very greatly mistaken, I believe we shall have an opportunity to escape to-night.”
“To escape?” reiterated Dick. “How do you mean, old man?”
“Do you know what is going to happen to-night?” demanded Phil.
“I know that we are going to have a pretty severe thunderstorm, if that is what you mean,” answered Dick; “but what has that got to do with our escaping?”
“What has it to do?” repeated Phil. “Why, everything, my gentle cuckoo. Dost thou not yet know that Indians generally, and the Mayubuna in particular, have a very wholesome dread and horror of thunderstorms, believing, as they do, that the evil spirits come abroad and hold high revel upon such occasions? If an Indian happens to be struck by lightning, his fellow Indians are firmly convinced that he has been killed by an evil spirit; hence they are extremely reluctant to venture abroad during a thunderstorm. We have observed that reluctance even in the case of the comparatively few unimportant storms that have visited the village since we have been here; but hitherto the Mayubuna have been too suspicious and too watchful to afford us an opportunity to get clear away. Now, however, I think we have at last succeeded in completely lulling their suspicions; they have not been nearly so watchful of us of late; and I am very doubtful whether there is a single Indian in this village, from the cacique downward, including old Mammy Insipa herself, who will be willing to turn out in such a storm as is now brewing, merely for the purpose of watching that we two do not run away.”
“Yes,” agreed Dick, “I have no doubt you are right. Well, I am quite ready to make the attempt whenever you say the word.”
“But what about thy fatigue?” demanded Phil.
“Oh,” answered Dick, with a laugh, “I am not so tired but that I dare say I can manage to do whatever may be necessary to secure our escape from this wretched place.”