The Fugitives

The Fugitives, by R.M.
Ballantyne

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Title: The Fugitives The Tyrant Queen of Madagascar
Author: R.M. Ballantyne
Illustrator: Pearson
Release Date: October 31, 2007 [EBook #23263]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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FUGITIVES ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

The Fugitives, by R.M. Ballantyne.

PREFACE.
It is almost allowable, I think, to say that this is a true story, for fiction
has only been introduced for the purpose of piecing together and
making a symmetrical whole of a number of most interesting facts in
regard to Madagascar and the terrible persecutions that took place there
in the early part and middle of the present century.
I have ventured to modify time and place somewhat, as well as to mix
my characters and their deeds a little, in order to suit the conditions of
my tale; but in doing so I have striven to avoid exaggeration and to
produce a true picture of the state of affairs, at the period treated of, in
what may be styled one of the most interesting and progressive islands
of the world.
I take this opportunity of thanking the Rev George Cousins, of the
London Missionary Society, and formerly of Madagascar, for kindly
supplying me with much valuable information, and of acknowledging
myself indebted, among others, to the works of Messrs. Sibree, Ellis,
and Shaw.
R M Ballantyne.
Harrow-on-the-Hill, 1887.
CHAPTER ONE.
INTRODUCES THE CHIEF ACTORS AND A FEW MYSTERIES.
Intense action is at all times an interesting object of contemplation to
mankind. We therefore make no apology to the reader for dragging him
unceremoniously into the middle of a grand primeval forest, and
presenting to his view the curious and stirring spectacle of two white
men and a negro running at their utmost possible speed, with flashing
eyes and labouring chests--evidently running for their lives.
Though very different in aspect and condition, those men were pretty
equally matched as runners, for there was no apparent difference in the

vigour with which they maintained the pace.
The track or footpath along which they ran was so narrow as to compel
them to advance in single file. He who led was a tall agile youth of
nineteen or thereabouts, in knickerbocker shooting-garb, with short
curly black hair, pleasantly expressive features, and sinewy frame. The
second was obviously a true-blue tar--a regular sea-dog--about thirty
years of age, of Samsonian mould, and, albeit running for very life,
with grand indignation gleaming in his eyes. He wore a blue shirt on
his broad back, white ducks on his active legs, and a straw hat on his
head, besides a mass of shaggy hair, which, apparently, not finding
enough of room on his cranium, overflowed in two brown cataracts
down his cheeks, and terminated in a voluminous beard.
The third fugitive was also a young man, and a negro, short, thickset,
square, tough as india-rubber, and black as the Emperor of Zahara.
Good-humour wrinkled the corners of his eyes, the milk of human
kindness played on his thick lips and rippled his sable brow, and
intense sincerity, like a sunbeam, suffused his entire visage.
James Ginger--for that was his name, though his friends preferred to
call him Ebony--scorned a hat of any kind; his simple costume
consisting merely of two garments--canvas trousers and a guernsey
shirt.
The sailor wore a cutlass in his belt. Ebony was unarmed. The youthful
leader carried a short fowling-piece.
A yell in the far distance, as if from a hundred fiends, told that the
pursuers had discovered the trail of the fugitives, and were gaining on
them.
"We'll have to fight for it, doctor," growled the sailor in a savage tone,
"better stop while we've got some wind left."
"The wood seems more open ahead," replied the youth, "let's push on a
bit further."

"Hi!" exclaimed the negro in surprise, not unmingled with alarm, as
they suddenly emerged on an open space and found themselves on the
edge of a stupendous precipice.
The formation of the region was curious. There was a drop in the land,
as it were, to a lower level. From their elevated position the three men
could see a turbulent river rushing far below, at the base of the cliffs on
the edge of which they stood. Beyond lay a magnificent and varied
stretch of forest scenery, extending away to the horizon, where the
prospect terminated in a blue range of hills. No path was at first visible