Fret, though pale and trembling, kept his post.
“Give me every pound of steam possible,” said Jack. “If we don’t go through Whirlwind Gap flying it will be because the old engine has lost her cunning.”
They were now rushing along at a tremendous rate of speed considering the condition of the track, and the old engine rocked and lurched as if it would leave the track at any moment. There were but a few passengers aboard, for only those who were compelled to do so traveled during this dangerous period. Jack knew there was a valuable freight behind him, to say nothing of human lives, and he was determined to get into de la Pama if it lay in his power.
Thus, with a full realization of the peril of his situation, he was standing at his post, with one hand on the throttle and the other on the reversing lever, peering intently ahead, taking in every object as they sped furiously over the rails, when he suddenly beheld a sight which for a moment fairly took away his breath.
They were swiftly approaching the foot of a high bluff, upon the top of which he had discovered a dozen of the bush-raiders looking down upon him. But they were not the most startling part of what he saw and heard.
As the train dashed madly under the rocky wall, above its terrific thunder rang a deafening crash, and he saw with horror a huge bowlder coming down the side of the cliff, directly toward the engine!
It had been loosened from its bed by the bush-raiders, and so well had they timed their work that it would be impossible for the engine to get beyond its reach before the rock should fall upon it!
It would be equally hazardous to try and stop the train.
Fret Offut had seen the appalling sight, and with a despairing cry, feeling that it would be death to remain on the engine, he leaped far out over the embankment.
“Fret!” cried Jack, but no answer came back to the call.