“What is that you give them, Pylea?”
“Something to keep them fresh. A little does them good and removes fatigue. Too much will kill them, yet they will run with unabated speed until they drop dead. I fear most of these will be dead when we reach the mountain, for we must not spare them this journey.”
Day came and almost passed, without any signs of pursuit. The only stops they made were those when more of the cakes were given to the animals. Then they went on again at full speed, seemingly as fresh as ever.
The sun was just dipping below the desert line when Ned saw a long low cloud appear. He did not need to call the attention of Pylea to ask its meaning. The pursuers were coming.
All that night the leopards ran at their swiftest, being fed often. When morning broke the gold mountain was distinctly visible; but so also were their followers. A long line of moving dust rolled in the rear, spreading miles wide. Queen Isori had brought half her army with her, and they were driving lightly. She was resolved to stop the fugitives if she could.
Onwards! The pursuers are gaining ground, but they are still as far off as the mountain, and it is stationary.
The leopards are fed recklessly, and rush along madly as if they were free. With long bounds they cover yards of ground at a time. Their eyes blaze fearfully, and bloody froth flies from their gaping jaws. They want no driving now; they are possessed with the most savage fury.
“They will reach the mountain. We dare feed them no longer; they are mad,” cried Pylea, looking only at the cliffs.
Ned was looking behind. How rapidly the pursuers were gaining! Already he could distinguish individuals where before he had only seen a confused mass. Their arrows were gleaming in the bright sunbeams.
At last! The chariot jolted suddenly and overturned, sending Ned and his bundle sprawling. Pylea had leaped lightly out and was helping him up.