And now Challis's training as three-quarter in his school fifteen stood him in good stead.
As the men approached, he sprang forward, just eluding their attack, swerved to avoid a man right ahead, and dropped, in time to bring down another rushing in from his left. He heard the negroes colliding and jostling one another in the darkness as he sprinted towards the trees.
They were after him instantly, but he had a few yards in hand when he plunged into the undergrowth, heedless of the thorns that tore his hands and clothes. The almost naked negroes were punished much more severely as they rushed in after him.
It was pitch dark in the wood. Challis ran on blindly, tearing a way by main strength, or by doubling and twisting when the obstacles were too firm to be broken through. He soon shook off his pursuers, but it was not long before he recognised that he was lost in the wood, and his nervousness returned with double force.
Should he go on, or stand still? If he went on, he might go farther and farther from his true course. If he stood still, he might be stalked by some wild beast which would probably avoid him if he were moving.
After a little anxious hesitation, he decided to climb a tree and try to get a rough bearing from the stars. When he descended, he pushed on again. He knew that the wood was not very wide. Beyond it was more or less open country, over which he thought he could easily find his way to the spot where his men were awaiting him.
Presently he came to a glade, and went more rapidly, paying less attention to his footsteps, and peering around for some opening through the rest of the wood.
Suddenly the ground seemed to give way beneath him. He fell, accompanied by a landslide of loose earth, and when at last his fall was checked, he lay for some minutes half-stunned upon the ground.
When he regained his wits, he anxiously felt his arms and legs.
"No bones broken," he thought. "But I'm sure I'm black and blue. And where am I?"