George shut off the engine, and the current being much less swift now that the boat had come beyond the rapids, they drifted along slowly. Then Giorgio lifted up his voice, and in clear trumpet tones, with a force that caused his face to flush purple and the veins in his neck to swell, he bellowed a question to the party above. The answer came in a long, loud chant from Marko, and though the distance was several hundred feet his words were clear and distinct.
He explained that, some while after the travellers had left the scene of the landslip, the enemy retreated along the path, and turned into the narrow gulley leading up to the hills. Giulika, suspecting their intentions, decided to follow them. After some time, when the pursuers came in sight of a village on the further bank, they called to the people there to hasten down to the river and intercept the boat. Their shouts were heard by Giulika and his party, who instantly left the direct track towards the Drin and hurried to a point above the rapids where they in their turn could command the ambuscaders.
“Where is the Austrian hound?” asked Giorgio.
“That we know not,” replied Marko. “We can see the Moslems behind, across the river; they are no longer pursuing; but there is no Austrian among them.”
“Surely he has not found another short cut to head us off again?” said Maurice to Giorgio.
“No, excellence; he cannot do that, for he would have to cross the river by the bridge at Lukowa, and then recross. There is no other way.”
“That is good news indeed. And now what had we better do?”
Giorgio shouted to the men above. This time the answer came from Zutni. He said that about three hours’ march down the river was a bridge, and the bank was low enough there to allow the boat to run ashore.
“And what then?” asked Maurice.
“Then there are mountains for many days’ march eastward. It is a very difficult road,” replied Zutni.