“How far are we from the river?” asked Maurice.
“About an hour’s march,” replied Zutni, who was more familiar with this part of the country than Giulika. “The track is very bad.”
“Shall we not come to a valley?”
“No, excellence. The river runs between high rocky cliffs. There are but few places where we can get to the water.”
“And will the horsemen come to the track we are following?”
“They must. But it is a long way round, and, if we do well, we may reach the river before they discover us. But it is a very bad track.”
It proved, indeed, to be even more difficult than any they had formerly traversed. Again their progress was checked at every few yards, either by an abrupt bend that demanded the most careful manœuvring, or by a narrowing of the path between a perpendicular wall on one side and a yawning chasm on the other. To keep the engine going was only a useless expenditure of petrol, except when mounting an incline. At one spot the ascent was so steep that the car had to be lifted by the whole party and hoisted over a sharp ridge. Progress was terribly slow. The sun was now high in the heavens, and its rays were reflected with scorching heat from the rocks. The Englishmen began to feel sick and dizzy. Their boots, soaked through during their passage of the morass, were torn into shreds by hard marching over the rugged ground, and both felt that if they did not soon gain the river, they would be incapable of continuing their journey without a prolonged rest; then all hope of escaping Slavianski must be abandoned, and when once again in his clutches they would hardly win release.
They struggled on. Then, rounding a bend in the narrow track, they saw themselves faced with an insurmountable obstacle. To the right was a craggy precipice, to the left a steep and rugged hill-slope. A mass of earth, loosened, apparently, by rains, had slid down the slope across the path, blocking it to the height of several feet. Even the Albanians were aghast.
“It is God’s will,” said Giulika, with the fatalism of his race. “God sent rain that washed the earth down. The way is blocked for ever. No man will reach the Drin by this path again.”
“Is this the path by which the Austrians must come?” asked Maurice.