The Fugitives | Page 3

the gulf below.
Instantly the faces of the two men gleamed with intelligence; they
nodded with energy, grinned with satisfaction, and pointed to the abyss
in front of them with the air of men who had no doubt that their
enemies were lying down there in quivering fragments.
Something of this James Ginger did indeed manage to see. Curiosity
was so powerfully developed in that sable spirit, that, at the imminent
risk of his life, he reached out by means of a branch, and so elongated
his black neck that he got one of his brilliant eyes to bear for a moment
upon his foes. He appreciated the situation instantly, and drew back to
indulge in a smothered laugh which shut up both his eyes and appeared
to gash his face from ear to ear.
"What's wrong with you, Ebony?" whispered Mark Breezy, who was in

anything but a laughing mood just then.
"Oh! nuffin', nuffin', massa; only dem brown niggers are sitch asses dat
dey b'lieve a'most anyting. Black niggers ain't so easy putt off de scent.
Dey tinks we's tumble ober de precipis an' busted ourselbes."
"Lucky for us that they think so," said Hockins, in a soft tone of
satisfaction. "But now, what are we to do? It was bad enough
clamberin' up here in blazin' excitement to save our lives, but it will be
ten times worse gettin' down again in cold blood when they're gone."
"Time enough to consider that when they are gone," muttered Breezy.
"Hush! Listen!"
The sounds that reached their place of concealment told clearly enough
that a number of the savages had descended the cliffs, presumably to
look at the place over which the white men had fallen. Then there was
much eager conversation in an unknown tongue, mingled with
occasional bursts of laughter--on hearing which latter the huge mouth
of our negro enlarged in silent sympathy. After a while the voices were
heard to retire up the narrow track and become fainter until they died
away altogether, leaving no sound save the murmur of the rushing river
to fill the ears of the anxious listeners who stood like three statues in a
niche on the face of that mighty precipice.
"Now, you know," said Breezy, with a sigh of relief, "this is very
satisfactory as far as it goes, and we have reason to be thankful that we
are neither speared nor dashed to pieces; nevertheless, we are in an
uncomfortable fix here, for night is approaching, and we must retrace
our steps somehow or other, unless we make up our minds to sleep
standing."
"That's so, doctor. There's not room to lie down here," assented the
sailor, glancing slowly round; "an', to tell 'ee the plain truth, I feel as
funky about trustin' myself again to that serpent-like creeper as I felt
the first time I went up through the lubber-hole the year I went to sea."
"What you's 'fraid ob, Mr 'Ockins?" asked Ebony.

"Afraid o' the nasty thing givin' way under my weight. If it was a good
stout rope, now, I wouldn't mind, but every crack it gave when I was
comin' aloft made my heart jump a'most out o' my mouth."
"What have 'ee found there, doctor?" asked the seaman, on observing
that his companion was groping behind a mass of herbage at the back
part of the niche in which they stood.
"There's a big hole here, Hockins. Perhaps we may find room to stay
where we are, after all, till morning. Come here, Ebony, you've got
something of the eel about you. Try if you can wriggle in."
The negro at once thrust his head and shoulders into the hole, but could
not advance.
"Bery strange!" he said, drawing out his head, and snorting once or
twice like a dog that has half-choked himself in a rabbit-hole. "Seems
to me dere's a big block o' wood dere stoppin' de way."
"Strange indeed, Ebony. A block of wood could not have grown there.
Are you sure it is not a big root?"
"Sartin' sure, massa. I hab studied roots since I was a babby. Hold on, I
try again."
The negro tried again, and with such vigour that he not only displaced
the block of wood, but burst in several planks which concealed the
entrance to a cavern. They fell on the stone floor with a crash that
aroused a multitude of echoes in the dark interior. At the same moment
something like a faint shriek or wail was heard within, causing the
hearts of the three listeners to beat faster.
"Did you hear that, Hockins?"
"Ay, I heard it sure enough. What is it, think 'ee, lad!" said the seaman
to the negro.
Ebony, who was gazing into the dark cavern with glaring eyeballs and

distended