Saying this, Aileen ran to a gnarled old tree whose trunk was divided into two parts, and from which spread out a series of stout branches that formed a sort of net-work of foliage about eight or ten feet from the ground. Climbing actively up to these branches, she crept out upon them, and from that position, parting the twigs, she looked down laughingly at her friend.
Her bright spirit was contagious. Miss Pritty almost forgot her anxieties, smiled in return, and walked towards the tree, in doing which she trod on something that moved in the grass. A piercing shriek was the result. It was immediately replied to by a wild yell at no great distance.
“It was only a frog; look, I see it now, hopping away. Do be quick, Laura; I am sure that was the yell of a savage.”
No further spur was needed. Miss Pritty scrambled up into the tree and crept towards her friend with such reckless haste that one of her feet slipped off the branch, and her leg passing through the foliage, appeared in the regions below. Recovering herself, she reached what she deemed a place of security.
“Now, dear, we are safe—at least for a time,” said Aileen, arranging her friend’s disordered dress. “Take care, however; you must be careful to trust only to limbs of the tree; the foliage cannot bear you. Look, you can see through it to the ground. Lean your back against this fork here; sit on this place—so; put your foot on this branch, there—why, it is almost like a chair—hush!”
It was quite unnecessary to impose silence. They both sat among the branches as motionless as though they had been parts of the tree. They scarce dared to breathe, while they peered through the foliage and beheld the dim form of a man advancing.
Whoever he was, the man seemed to growl as though he had been allied to the beasts of the jungle. He came forward slowly, looking from side to side with caution, and, stopping directly under the tree of refuge, said—
“Musha!” with great emphasis, then placing both hands to his mouth he gave vent to a roar that would have done credit to a South African lion.
As neither of the ladies understood the meaning of “Musha,” they listened to the roar with a thrill of unutterable horror. Miss Pritty, as if fascinated, leant forward, the better to observe her foe. Suddenly, like the lightning-flash, and without even a shriek of warning, she lost her balance and dived head-foremost into the bosom of Rooney Machowl!
Well was it for the bold Irishman that Miss Pritty was a light weight, else had he that day ended his career in the jungles of Borneo. As it was he went down like a shock of corn before the scythe, grasped Miss Pritty in an embrace such as she had never before even imagined, and proceeded to punch her poor head.