“Follow me,” whispered Piñone, as soon as he perceived that she was quite awake; and one by one the three captives stole forth into the cold midnight air. As noiselessly as possible they traversed the open space in which the huts were situated, and entered the forest at the same place from where Topsie had first espied them. Thence they rapidly descended towards the plain. How the girl’s heart beat! She could hear it sounding like a hammer in her ears, and a cold sweat broke out all over her, as a night jar shrieked forth its warning, gruesome note. The Indians looked startled, for the night jar was regarded by their tribe as an ill-omened bird, whose note predicted evil, and whose presence was the herald of misfortune. Still they kept on their path, and after a time reached the valley for which they had been making.
They crossed it at as rapid a rate as the darkness permitted, and in about half an hour reached the opposite forest. But here their worst difficulties began. It was pitch dark, and the undergrowth was so thick, that to make headway was almost impossible. Topsie at once perceived that there was not the slightest hope of her finding the tracks, which the two Traucos had made that morning, and that all they could do was to work their way forward as rapidly as the dense undergrowth permitted. But even as they struggled along the blood froze in her veins, as a loud trumpeting sound came floating across the valley in the still night air.
“It is the Trauco!” gasped Cuastral, in a despairing voice. “They have discovered our flight, and are in pursuit. We must separate, and seek shelter in the densest brushwood possible, and lie as quiet as the dead, without movement and without sound. Child of my heart, may the Great Spirit hide thee and guide thee back to Aniwee.”
These last words were addressed exclusively by the chief to his son. For a moment the two held each other’s hands, and then they parted, each fugitive taking a different direction.
The trumpeting noise, evidently one of anger, was getting nearer, and Topsie, having struggled forward a short distance, crept beneath the thick underwood, in the faint hope that the darkness would screen her from observation. Vain indeed! She had been hardly a quarter of an hour in her nook of refuge, when she heard strong breathing not far off. It came nearer and nearer, the crashing of a heavy tread sounded beside her, and a minute later she was in the grasp of her pursuer, the same Trauco who had made her captive the day before.
Dawn was breaking in the heavens when he bore her back to her prison on the forest slope beneath the Andes heights. Almost heart-broken, Topsie threw herself down outside her hut, and gave way to a passionate burst of weeping. She must have sobbed herself to sleep, for when she awoke the sun was scorching down upon her, and the Traucos were dozing under the shade of their huts. Several were absent, however, and looking all round she could make out no sign of Cuastral or Piñone. Could it be that they had escaped? She must have dozed again, when she was suddenly awakened by the sound of a familiar voice. There could be no mistaking it. A flood of joy rushed over her. For a moment a vision of glory gladdened her eyes. On the edge of the forest she could see her brother, her uncle and aunt, her cousin Freddy, Aniwee, and Shag. In an instant she had sprung to her feet and raced to meet them. But even as she sped along she heard the swift tread of the Trauco beside her. She felt herself once more seized and lifted from the ground, and helpless in his powerful grasp she felt herself borne away from the freedom which she had all but grasped once more.
CHAPTER XI.
