Ah! how different was the spectacle presented on the evening of that eventful day! A little before sunset the three adventurers were seen slowly and sadly returning to their hut—that despised hovel, under whose homely roof they had hoped never to seek shelter again!
Alas! in the now lengthened list of their unsuccessful struggles, they had once more to record a failure!
Ossaroo, bearing the bearcoot under his arm, had climbed the ladders up to the highest ledge that could be attained. From it he had “flown” the eagle—freely dealing out all the cord in his possession. That was a perilous experiment for the shikaree to make; and came very near proving the last act in the drama of his life.
Thinking that the bearcoot would rise upward into the air, he had not thought of anything else; and as he stood balancing himself on that narrow shelf, he was but ill prepared for what actually came to pass. Instead of soaring upwards, the eagle struck out in a horizontal direction, not changing its course till it had reached the end of its tether; and then not changing it, nor even pausing in its flight, but with the fifty yards of rope trailing behind it—which, fortunately for Ossaroo, he was himself no longer at the end of—it continued on across the valley towards the cliffs on the opposite side—the summit of which it would have no difficulty in attaining by following the diagonal line in which it was making that unexpected escape from the clutches of the shikaree.
Not without chagrin did Karl and Caspar behold the spectacle of the bearcoot’s departure; and for a while they were under the impression that Ossaroo had bungled the business with which he had been entrusted.
Ossaroo’s explanations, however, were soon after received; and proved satisfactory. It was evident from these, that had he not let go in the right time, he would have been compelled to make a leap, that would have left him no opportunity for explaining the nature of the eagle’s escape.