The fact that one denizen of the jungle had paid the boat a visit was ground for looking for a call from another. Jack remained, therefore, on the alert, and though under ordinary circumstances he would have fallen asleep he kept wide awake until the growing light in the sky told of the coming day. Before the sun was fairly above the horizon all were astir. They bathed faces and hands in the roiled water and greeted one another with thankfulness that the night had passed without harm to any member of the little company.
When the three men and their wives fled from Meerut they took with them enough food to last for several days. There is little excuse for people dying of starvation in any part of India, though sad to say it is only recently that thousands were swept away by famine. Fruit is abundant and little meat is necessary in hot countries. Before the morning meal was partaken of Jack Everson asked Dr. Marlowe to explain the cause of the low moaning noise that had been in his ears for moat of the night. The elder listened for a minute and replied:
“What I expected! We are very near the head of navigation; that sound comes from falls or rapids, above which we cannot go with this boat.”
This announcement precipitated a discussion as to what was the best course to follow. The physician left no doubt of his sentiments.
“The devils will be prowling up this stream within a few hours; I should not be surprised if they are near us this moment; the boat is of no further use to us.”
The three, Anderson, Turner and Wharton, did not agree with him. The craft had served them so well that they were unwilling to abandon it. They seemed to believe that it offered a much safer means of defense than they could find anywhere on land.
“But you cannot stay forever on it,” protested the doctor impatiently.
“We do not expect to,” replied Anderson; “we may decide to descend to the Ganges again, and continue down the river.”
“Whither?”
“To Cawnpore or some point nearer.”
The doctor was aghast.
“You mean to leap straight into the hornet’s nest; those are the places, of all others, that must be avoided.”
“It may be as you say, but I am hopeful that the English garrisons have been able to hold out against the mutineers.”
“It is a woeful mistake, my friend; if you persist in it we must part company.”
CHAPTER XIV.
THE SOUND OF FIRING.
Jack Everson was hardly less impatient than the doctor over the obstinacy of their lately made friends. He reminded them that the physician had spent a score of years in that part of the world, with which he was so familiar that his judgment ought to outweigh theirs, but the argument was useless. They had decided to stick to the boat that had served them so well and could not be dissuaded. Their plan, as they had intimated, now that they found they could go little further up stream, was to descend to the Ganges, with a view of working their way down to some of the cities, where they hoped to find the English had succeeded in holding out against the mutineers.
Could this be done, and could such a haven be reached, all would be well, but the doctor assured them they were leaning upon a broken reed. When it became evident that all persuasions were useless the parties separated. A common peril had brought them near to one another and it was impossible that that they should part except as friends. All felt the solemnity of the hour. Each wife kissed and embraced Mary Marlowe, and like her shed tears at what they felt was probably the final parting, so far as this world was concerned. The men warmly shook hands and there was more than one tremulous voice when the three passed over the side of the boat and said farewell.
The latter walked some distance through the jungle, which was so dense that they were obliged to follow one of the numerous paths made by the animals in going to and coming from the water. The doctor, by virtue of his superior knowledge, took the lead, with his daughter close behind, and Jack Everson bringing up the rear. They were silent and thoughtful, for their spirits were oppressed by a deep gloom and the feeling that something dreadful impended.
Not far off the path which they were following expanded into a natural clearing two or three rods in extent. When they reached the spot the doctor halted and faced his companions.
“I now know where we are,” he said in an undertone; “we have to follow this path a little way back, when we enter a hilly and rough country, where the jungle is more open. It is cut up by numerous trails like this, most of which have been made by the feet of wild animals, but one of them leads northward and finally enters a highway, which if followed far enough will land us in the Nepaul country.”
“I assume from what you have said that it will not be safe to stick to this road?” said Jack.
“No; for two or three days while travelling over it we shall be in constant danger; our task will be to make our way over it without attracting the notice of any of our enemies who are scouring the country for us.”
“Is the thing possible?”
“I should not undertake it did I not think so; the danger will threaten for probably a hundred miles, though growing steadily less as we proceed.”
“Will it not be safer to do our travelling by night?” asked the daughter.
“That is what I mean to do after reaching the more plainly marked path, which connects with the highway. I see no risk in pushing through the jungle by day, since the only foes we are likely to encounter are four-footed ones. If we meet any such we must refrain from firing, since the reports of our guns will be sure to draw attention to us. I mean, of course,” explained the doctor, “that our weapons are not to be appealed to unless there is no escape otherwise, as was the case with the tiger.”
While he was speaking, Mary gave a faint gasp and caught his arm. She and Jack were facing the point toward which his back was turned. Seeing that it was something behind him that had startled both, the doctor turned his head. As if to emphasize the words just spoken, he saw an immense spotted leopard, motionless in the trail not more than fifty feet away. Evidently he was trotting to the stream, when he caught sight of the three persons, stopped short, raised his head and stared wonderingly at them.
The leopard shares the reputation of the tiger for deadly ferocity and daring. When more than 20,000 persons are killed in India every year by wild animals and serpents, it will be found that the leopard is one of the most active among these factors of death, and holds his own well up with the tiger.
Like the venomous serpent, the leopard had a terrible beauty all his own. As he stood with head raised, eyes glaring, mouth slightly parted and his long tail lashing his sides with a force that made the thumping against his glossy ribs plainly audible, his pose was perfect. What a picture he made!
The question that was to be quickly answered was whether the fearful brute would allow himself to be turned aside from the path and withdraw again into the jungle with his thirst unslaked. If he did he would not be molested; if he presumed to advance upon the party, whom he evidently held in slight fear, let him be prepared for the consequences!
Jack Everson fumbled his rifle and looked with sparkling eyes at the beast.
“What a chance for another bull’s-eye!” he said, in a low voice. “I would take him right between and above his forelegs, where I should be sure of reaching his heart.”
“Don’t fire unless he advances to attack us,” warned the elder.
It would be hard to say what induced the leopard to retreat, for, as has been said, he is one of the most dangerous denizens of the jungle; but, while our friends were expecting a charge from him, he wheeled about and trotted off.
“It looks as if he had learned something of your skill,” remarked the doctor with a smile.
Again, while the words were in the mouth of the speaker, he was interrupted, this time in a more terrifying manner than before.
From the direction of the stream which they had left but a short time previous, and undoubtedly from the boat itself, came the reports of firearms. There were no shouts or outcries, but th
e firing was rapid and apparently made by gun and pistol.
“They have been attacked!” exclaimed Mary; “we must go to their help!”
She impulsively started along the path, but her father seized her arm and said sternly:
“Remain here! It is no place for you; Jack and I will do what we can.”
Perhaps in the excitement of the moment the parent did not fully comprehend the danger of leaving his daughter alone in the jungle, even at so slight a distance and for so brief a time as he anticipated, with nothing but a revolver as a means of defence; but he and Jack Everson were eager to rush to the aid of their friends, and they hurried over the trail without even looking back at her.
The young man was slightly behind his companion and both broke into a loping trot. Each held his rifle in hand, on the alert to use it the instant the opportunity presented itself.
It will be borne in mind that the distance from the slight natural opening to the boat was short, and a few minutes sufficed for the two men to cover it; but a strange thing happened. The reports of firearms which had broken out with such suddenness ceased with the same abruptness, and the silence because of the contrast was tenfold more oppressive than before.
“What can that mean?” asked Jack, as his companion slackened his pace.
“It means that they are through!” replied the doctor, whose face was of deathly paleness. “My God! what have we escaped!”
“We shall soon know,” replied Jack, catching the awful significance of the words; and then he added to himself:
“We may have escaped it, but for how long?”
A few rods further and they were at the side of the stream, and the boat loomed to view through the thick undergrowth and vegetation.
CHAPTER XV.
GONE!
Neither Jack Everson nor Dr. Marlowe forgot his own personal danger in hurrying to the help of their imperilled friends. If the two were too late to be of any assistance they were imminently likely to precipitate themselves into the same whirlpool of woe and death. They had slowed their gait to a walk as they neared the spot, and when they caught the dim outlines of the boat the two stood still.
So far as they could see there was no change in its surroundings. It was still moored against the bank, so close that any one could step aboard, but no sign of living person was visible on or about it. There was something so uncanny in it all that but for their mutual knowledge they would have doubted the evidence of their senses.
“I don’t understand it,” whispered Jack. “Suppose you stay here while I steal nigh enough to learn something that will help clear up the horrible mystery.”
“You are running frightful risk,” said the doctor; “I cannot advise you to try it.”
“All the same, I shall do it.”
Thus, it will be observed that the three persons composing the little party became separated from one another for greater or less distances. The daughter was waiting, two or three hundred yards away, for the return of her father and lover, while they had just parted company, though they expected to remain in sight of each other.
Dr. Marlowe stood in the path, partly sheltering himself behind a couple of tree trunks, but with his eyes fixed upon his young friend, who walked cautiously but unhesitatingly forward. Jack held his rifle in a trailing position at his side, his shoulders bent slightly forward, while he stepped lightly, his senses alert, like those of a scout entering the camp of an enemy. That he was running into great danger was self-evident, but he was determined not to turn back until he learned something of the strange occurrences.
Watching his young friend, the doctor saw him stop when at the side of the motionless boat. His profile showed first on one side and then, on the other, while he listened for the slightest sound that could give an atom of knowledge. Apparently the effort was useless, for the next moment he placed his left hand on the gunwale and vaulted lightly upon deck. He stood a few moments as if transfixed, then turning abruptly about leaped to the ground, and, breaking into a run, hurried back to his friend, who noticed that his face was more ghastly than before, while his eyes stared as if they still looked upon unutterable things.
“What is it?” asked the elder in a ghostly whisper.
“My God! don’t ask me to tell!”
“You forget that we are both physicians.”
“But not that we are human beings; thank Heaven forever that you did not look upon the sight my eyes saw a moment ago. Let it suffice, doctor, to say that of the three men and women to whom we bade good-bye within the past twenty minutes not one is alive! The fiends have been there.”
Not the least singular fact connected with this hideous incident was that the devils who committed the unspeakable crime had vanished, so far as could be seen, as utterly as if the ground had opened beneath their feet and swallowed them. Two men had come back upon the scene within a few minutes after all this was done, and yet the doers were nowhere in sight. What was the meaning of their hasty departure?
It was unreasonable to think they had gone far. They must be in the vicinity. They must have noticed the absence of the doctor and his companions; doubtless they were looking for them along shore; possibly they had started over some of the trails and ere long would strike the one along which the three had fled.
“A wonderful Providence has preserved us thus far,” said Jack Everson; “but it is too much to expect we shall emerge unscathed from this hell hole.”
“I hope nothing will happen to Mary before we rejoin her.”
“We shall be with her in a minute.”
Nevertheless, a vague fear disturbed both. The parent was again leading, and he unconsciously hastened his footsteps. Only a slight distance beyond they came to the small opening where they had left her standing but a brief while before. Since the men had passed over the intervening distance to the river it was unlikely that anything had occurred to alarm the young woman, but there was no saying what might happen in those times and in that part of the world.
The real shock came to the parent when he turned in the trail and saw the open space but failed to observe his daughter. He hurried on without speaking, but Jack, directly behind him, had made the discovery, for a moment he was so breathless and dizzy that he barely saved himself from falling. His heart became lead, and the awful conviction got hold of him that the most woeful affliction of all had come upon them, and that his betrothed was lost irrecoverably.
But the sight of the anguish of the parent when he turned about and faintly gasped, “Where is my child?” brought the self-command of the young man back.
It was the despairing question wrung from the heart of the parent, with a grief that was no keener than that of Jack Everson himself. Here was another instance of the appalling suddenness with which tragedies began and were completed in this infernal country. A band of half a dozen was cut off within the space of a few minutes, and now, in still less time, a young woman vanished as if she had never been.
Jack did not dare trust his voice in the effort to speak, but when his eyes met those of the parent he shook his head, saying by the gesture:
“God have mercy, I cannot answer.”
But strong men do not remain dazed and helpless in the presence of a shuddering calamity. If any one thing could be set down as certain it was that Miss Marlowe had left the place by fleeing deeper into the jungle. She could not have approached them without being observed: therefore they must seek her by taking the same direction.
The energy of the man more than threescore under the spur of his anguish was like that of the athlete of one-third of his years. He still led the way, and, after the brief halt under the fearful blow, he rallied and compelled Jack Everson to keep upon a trot to save himself from falling behind.
A hundred paces from the opening they reached a point where the trails forked. They stopped, the parent being the first to do so.
“Jack,” said he, using the less formal name, for under the awful shadow they had drawn nearer to each other, “we can’
t afford to make any mistake.”
“There shall be none if you tell me how to prevent it.”
“She must have followed one of these paths, but who shall say which?”
He stooped over and peered at the ground. Within the dim hush of the jungle he was unable to discern the slightest disturbance of the earth.
“No use of that,” said the doctor, reading his intention; “therefore we will separate; one of us will overtake them.”
“Have you any idea of the identity of these devils?”
“I think they are Ghoojurs, but it makes no difference; Mussulmans and Hindoos are the same; each of us has a rifle and revolver; if you get sight of them don’t wait to notify me; shoot to kill; you know how to do it.”
“I shall shrink from nothing, but the case may be hopeless.”
“If it is will you promise me one thing?” asked, the parent of the young man looking him in the eye.
“I do; what is the pledge?”
“That you point your gun at her?”
CHAPTER XVI.
A SHADOWY PURSUIT.
It was a fearful pledge to exact, but Jack Everson gave it without hesitation.
“You understand me; enough; let us lose no more time; I will turn to the right; good-bye; we are all in the hands of God.”
There was not a tear in the eye of the parent. His heart might be torn by grief, but he was now the Roman from whose lips no murmuring was heard.
It seemed to Jack Everson that the strangeness of the incidents of the past hour had lifted him into a state of exaltation. He never felt calmer nor more self-possessed than when hurrying over the path, rifle in hand, revolver at his hip with the belief that there was not one chance in a thousand that he would ever again look upon the one who had won his heart when the two were on the other side of the world and for whose sake he was ready to go to the uttermost lengths of the earth.
His feeling was: “They have stolen her from us, but by the Eternal she shall cost them dear!”
The Edward S. Ellis Megapack Page 6
