Part 79 (1/2)

It was the best way of approaching success, as Jack saw, and whispering that he would do as his companion suggested, he sat there watching Ned's movements as he crept away up the slope and disappeared. Then fitting an arrow to the bowstring, after laying his spear ready by his side, he rested the bow across his knees, and sat on his mossy stone, watching the movements of the little herd, and expecting, moment by moment, to see one of the watchful elders take alarm, give warning, and the whole party dash back up the gully.

But they kept rooting and hunting about, evidently for some kind of fruit which fell from the trees, and Jack felt as if he were far back in the past, a hunter on that beautiful, wild mountain slope, dependent upon his bow for his existence. The sun poured down its hot rays, making the leaves glisten like metal, and the air was so clear that the pigs' eyes and every movement were as plain as if close at hand.

”Seems treacherous lying in wait like this,” he thought. ”Poor wretches! they all look as playful and contented as can be.”

But he knew that he and Ned must eat if they were ever to escape from that mountain, and the sentiment of pity died out as the time went on.

The pigs were slow in coming down, for under the trees at the other side of the gully the fruit they sought seemed to be plentiful, and he could see the younger ones hunting one another as a lucky find was made, this resulting in a good deal of squealing, while above it the deep grunts of the elders were plainly heard.

But there was no sight of Ned, and half-an-hour must have pa.s.sed, with the pigs still out of reach for a good shot.

”If they do come this way,” thought the lad, ”I can't study about picking one; I must shoot into the thickest part and chance it. But where is Ned? Why don't he show?”

At last there was the appearance far up of a large pig coming down toward the herd, but the next moment, as it glided among the leaves, Jack saw that it was a pig with clothes on, and that it carried a bow and arrow.

The time had come for a shot, and softly and slowly the lad edged himself back till he could drop on his knees behind the stone, rest the bow upon it horizontally, and wait for the critical moment to draw and launch his arrow.

He could watch Ned the while as well as the herd, and by slow degrees he saw his companion creep from tree-trunk to tree-trunk, slowly diminis.h.i.+ng the distance, while, having probably cleared off the fallen fruit, the herd broke into a trot as if to pa.s.s within twenty yards of where he waited.

But the next minute they had stopped fifty yards away, and Ned had soon reduced his distance till he was about as much above them. Then all at once he disappeared.

The minutes seemed to be terribly long drawn out now, but the herd came lower and lower, till fully half of them were rambling about just in front; and feeling that he would never have a better chance, the lad singled out one half-grown fellow in the midst of three more, all feeding, and he held up his hand for a moment or two in the hope that Ned might see it, though where he hid it was impossible to say.

Slight as was the movement of the raised hand it was seen, for the biggest pig, a rough, bristly-necked animal, suddenly raised its head and gazed sharply, with eyes that looked fiery in the brilliant suns.h.i.+ne, straight in his direction.

_Tw.a.n.g! tw.a.n.g_! went two bowstrings, the arrows whizzed through the air, and in the midst of a rush, away tore the herd down the valley, just as Ned leaped up, made a bound or two, and plunged his spear down amidst the bushes.

Jack dropped his bow, caught up his own spear, and dashed forward to help finish the wounded pigs, and Ned was up before him, panting and dripping with perspiration.

”Got one?” cried Jack.

”Got one!” cried Ned bitterly. ”Course we ain't. Just like my luck.”

”Oh!” groaned Jack, as a pang of hunger shot through him.

”I never saw such arrows,” cried Ned pa.s.sionately. ”I could smash the lot. They don't go straight.”

”Is it any use to follow them?” said Jack.

”No, sir; it ain't,” cried the man angrily. ”And what's more, you know it ain't. What's the good of aggravating a poor fellow? And,” he added pathetically, ”I did mean to have such a roast.”

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

IN THE FACE OF PERIL.

”Come on,” said Jack, after they had stood listening for a few minutes, and gazing in the direction taken by the pigs. ”Is it any use looking for the arrows?”

”Not a bit, sir. Here, only let me find one lying asleep in the mud somewhere. I dare say there's, dozens doing it now, with their eyes shut, and their curly tails pretending to whisk away the flies. Come on, sir, we must keep going, hot as it is. Never mind, we shall do it yet, but next time I'm not going to trust to bows and arrows. You shall hunt them down to where I'm hiding, and I'll skewer one somehow or another.”

But in the next two hours' weary struggle among trees, rocks, and waving creepers they only heard pigs once, and then it was as they dashed off unseen, grunting and squealing wildly. Birds were scarcer and very small, while they felt no temptation to try the esculent qualities of the lizards they saw glancing about over the hot lava, or of the snakes which hurriedly crawled away.