Part 50 (1/2)
The latter sighed heavily, and appeared to revive.
Raoul pa.s.sed on to the hunter, who, as soon as he felt the water, started to his feet, and, clutching his comrade fiercely by the throat, exclaimed:
”Yur cussed catamount! yer wud hang me, wud yur?”
Seeing who it was, he stopped suddenly, and looked round with an air of extreme bewilderment. His eye now fell upon the rifle, and, all at once seeming to recollect himself, he staggered towards it and picked it up.
Then, as if by instinct, he pa.s.sed his hand into his pouch and coolly commenced loading.
While Raoul was busy with Clayley and the Irishman, I had risen to my feet and looked back over the prairie. The rain was falling in torrents, and the lightning still flashed at intervals. At the distance of fifty paces a black ma.s.s was lying upon the ground motionless--a ma.s.s of men and horses, mingled together as they had fallen in their tracks.
Here and there a single horse and his rider lay prostrate together.
Beyond these, twenty or thirty hors.e.m.e.n were galloping in circles over the plain, and vainly endeavouring to head their frightened steeds towards the point where we were. These, like Raoul, had escaped the stroke.
”Come!” cried the Frenchman, who had now resuscitated Clayley and Chane; ”we have not a moment to lose. The mustangs will get over their fright, and these fellows will be down upon us.”
His advice was instantly followed, and before the guerilleros could manage their scared horses we had entered the thicket, and were crawling along under the wet leaves.
CHAPTER FORTY SIX.
A BRIDGE OF MONKEYS.
Raoul thought that their superst.i.tion might prevent the enemy from pursuing us farther. They would consider the lightning as an interference from above--a stroke of the _hrazos de Dios_. But we had little confidence in this, and, notwithstanding our exhaustion, toiled on through the chaparral. Wearied with over-exertion, half-famished-- for we had only commenced eating when roused from our repast in the morning--wet to the skin, cut by the bushes, and bitten by the poisoned teeth of the bloodhounds--blinded, and bruised, and bleeding, we were in but poor travelling condition.
Even Lincoln, whose buoyancy had hitherto borne up, appeared cowed and broken. For the first mile or two he seemed vexed at something and ”out of sorts”, stopping every now and again, and examining his rifle in a kind of bewilderment.
Feeling that he was once more ”in the timber”, he began to come to himself.
”Thet sort o' an enemy's new ter me,” he said, speaking to Raoul.
”Dog-gone the thing! it makes the airth look yeller!”
”You'll see better by and by,” replied his comrade.
”I had need ter, Rowl, or I'll b.u.t.t my brainpan agin one of these hyur saplin's. Wagh! I cudn't sight a b'ar, if we were to scare him up jest now.”
About five miles farther on we reached a small stream. The storm had abated, but the stream was swollen with the rain, and we could not cross it. We were now a safe distance from our pursuers--at least, we thought so--and we resolved to ”pitch our camp” upon the bank.
This was a simple operation, and consisted in pitching ourselves to the ground under the shade of a spreading tree.
Raoul, who was a tireless spirit, kindled a fire, and commenced knocking down the nuts of the corozo palm, that hung in cl.u.s.ters over our heads.
We dried our wet garments, and Lincoln set about dressing our numerous wounds. In this surgical process our s.h.i.+rts suffered severely; but the skill of the hunter soothed our swelling limbs, and after a frugal dinner upon palm-nuts and pitahayas we stretched ourselves along the greensward, and were soon asleep.
I was in that dreamy state, half-sleeping half-waking, when I was aroused by a strange noise that sounded like a mult.i.tude of voices--the voices of children. Raising my head I perceived the hunter in an att.i.tude of listening.
”What is it, Bob?” I inquired.
”Dod rot me if I kin tell, Cap'n! Hyur, Rowl! what's all this hyur channerin?”
”It's the _araguatoes_,” muttered the Frenchman, half-asleep.