Part 72 (2/2)

Jack set his teeth again as hard as when he was holding the back of the knife-blade, and in response he took hold of Ned's hand with his left and applied the edge across the cane which held the poor fellow's wrists, and in a clumsy fumbling way began to saw downward.

”Mr Jack, Mr Jack!” whispered the man excitedly, ”you shouldn't, you shouldn't! I wanted to get you cut loose first.”

”You hold your tongue and keep still,” said the lad. ”I don't want to cut your wrist. Steady. Oh, how numb and helpless my hands feel.”

”They cut well enough, sir,” said Ned with a laugh, as the outer turn of the cane band was divided, and once more the tough vegetable cord opened like a spiral string.

”That's your sort, Mr Jack, sir. Give me hold of the knife. My turn now.”

”No, no, my hands are getting better. Rub your wrists while I cut your ankles free.”

For answer Ned made a dash at the knife, but Jack avoided him, and forgetting everything in his desire to set his companion at liberty, he began sawing away at his ankles, while Ned thrust his hand into his own pocket and drew out his knife, to begin operating directly after upon Jack's bonds, with so much success that he was able to free him first.

His own were at liberty though directly after, and then they lay panting and perfectly still.

Jack was the first to speak.

”Now then,” he said, ”shall we crawl up and try and get our guns?”

”And make one of them wake and tap us both again on the head. No, sir, that won't do. Soon as you feel that you can move, crawl right away in among the bushes, and I'll follow. Have you got any hands and feet?

because I feel as if I hadn't.”

”Mine are terribly numb, Ned, but we'll start at once. It will do me more good to work them than to rest them. Which way?”

”Downwards, because it's more easy. Then go into that hollow ditch-like bit.”

”But it goes upward.”

”Never mind, take it, and we shall be out of sight. It will be best.

They're sure to think we've made for the sea. Why, how dark it's growing. Didn't know it was so late.”

Jack said nothing, but began to crawl away as fast as his tingling, helpless limbs would allow, feeling that so long as they got away from their captors it did not so much matter which direction they took. He turned his head from time to time to see if Ned was all right, and found that he was lamely struggling on after him, but always gave him a cheery look.

Jack followed the rugged little ditch-like place, which had evidently been carved out by one of the rivulets which ran down from the mountain, but after following it some time and turning to look back at Ned, he suddenly dropped flat on his face and began to crawl out of it, and toward the shelter of the forest, which came close up.

”What's the matter?” said Ned.

”Don't lift your head; creep as flat as you can, and let's get among the bushes.”

”That's right enough; but why? It won't be such good going.”

”We've been crawling higher and higher,” said Jack, ”and when I turned to see how you were getting on, I looked down over your shoulder, on to the smoke of the fire, and the blacks were lying about it, and just at that moment one of them jumped up, and then all the rest followed, and they must have missed us!”

”Shall we get up and run then?”

”No, no, they may not come this way. Hark! what's that?”

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