The Lords of the Wild | Page 5

swift. His guide was before him. Whatever his pace, whether
fast or slow, the distance between them never seemed to change. The
bird would dart aside, perhaps to catch an insect, but it always returned
promptly to its course.
His eyes caught a gleam of silver from the crest of the fourth ridge that
he crossed, and he knew it was a ray of sunlight striking upon the
waters of the lake. Now his coveted haven was not so far away, and the
great pulses in his temples throbbed. He would reach the lake, and he
would find refuge. Tandakora, in all his malice, would fail once more.
The thought was so pleasant to him that he laughed aloud, and now
feeling the need to use the strength he had saved with such care he
began to run as fast as he could. It was his object to open up a wide gap
between himself and the warriors, one so great that, if occasion came,
he might double or turn without being seen.
The forest remained dense, a sea of trees with many bushes and
clinging vines in which an ignorant or incautious runner would have
tripped and fallen, but Robert was neither, and he did not forget, as he
fled, to notice where his feet fell. His skill and presence of mind kept
him from stumbling or from making any noise that would draw the
attention of possible pursuers who might have crept up on his flank.
While they had only his faint trail to guide them the pursuit was

impeded, and, as long as they did not see him, his chance to hide was
far greater.
He lost sight of his feathered guide two or three times, but the bird
never failed to reappear, a brilliant blue flame against the green wall of
the wilderness, his emblem of hope, leading him over the hills and
valleys toward Andiatarocte. Now he saw the lake from a crest, not a
mere band of silver showing through the trees, but a broad surface
reflecting the sunlight in varied colors. It was a beacon to him, and,
summoning the last ounce of his strength and will, he ran at amazing
speed. Once more he heard the warriors behind him calling to one
another, and they were much farther away. His mighty effort had not
been in vain. His pulses beat hard with the throb of victory not yet won,
but of which he felt sure, and he rejoiced too, because he had come
again upon rocky ground, where his flight left so little trace that
Tandakora himself would be baffled for a while.
He knew that the shores of the lake at the point he was nearing were
comparatively low, and a vague plan to hide in the dense foliage at the
water's edge came into his mind. He did not know just how he would
do it, but he would be guided by events as they developed. The bird
surely would not lead him on unless less to safety, and no doubt entered
his mind. But it was highly important to widen yet more the distance
between him and the warriors, and he still ran with all the speed at his
command.
The last crest was reached and before him spread the splendid lake in
its deep green setting, a glittering spectacle that he never failed to
admire, and that he admired even now, when his life was in peril, and
instants were precious. The bird perched suddenly on a bough, uttered a
few thrilling notes, and was then gone, a last blue flash into the dense
foliage. He did not see it again, and he did not expect to do so. Its work
was done. Strong in the faith of the wilderness, he believed and always
believed.
He crouched a few moments on a ledge and looked back. Tandakora
and his men had not yet come in sight, nor could he hear them.
Doubtless they had lost his trail, when he leaped from one stone to

another, and were now looking for it. His time to hide, if he were to
have one, was at hand, and he meant to make the most of the chance.
He bent lower and remained there until his breathing became regular
and easy after his mighty effort, all his five senses and the sixth that
was instinct or divination, alert to every sound.
Two or three birds began to sing, but they were not his bird and he gave
them no attention. A rabbit leaped from its nest under the bushes and
ran. It went back on his trail and he considered it a sure sign that his
pursuers were yet distant. He might steal another precious minute or
two for his overworked lungs and heart.