CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
ADVENTURES OF A NIGHT.
"He was right," muttered Cyril, as the blood rushed to his head and madehim feel giddy; "and now they mean to have us, but--"
He stopped short, and his teeth made a grating sound as he seized Perryby the shoulder. "Can you fight?" he whispered. "I--I don't halfknow," groaned Perry. "I'll try."
"That's right. We must," the boy continued. "They shall find we'reEnglish after all."
"What are you going to do?" said Perry, holding on by his companion'sarm.
"Get our guns. They're close by the fire there. What are those twodoing?"
"I don't know," was the reply, and Perry gazed hard at the two guides,who were stooping about the fire. "Yes, I do; they're putting on morewood."
"Then, as soon as they come toward us, we must run round and try to getour guns."
They stood in the darkness watching for some moments, while the guidesstill busied themselves about the fire, wandering here and there, as ifbusy about something; though, after seeing the flames rise, on the firstportion of wood being added, their object appeared vague.
All at once the rustling toward the clearing recommenced, and the boyslooked sharply in that direction, fully expecting that the first attackwould come from there; but the sound grew fainter, and they knew thatthe Indians must be going back, apparently satisfied with theirscrutiny. This meant the danger lessened for the moment by one half;and Cyril now gripped his companion's shoulder more tightly.
"Now, then," he said, "let's get round by the trees to the other side."
"Too late," said Perry; "they are coming here."
Cyril glanced toward the fire, but no one was visible. In the briefmoments during which their backs were turned, the guides haddisappeared, and all was silent; not a sound suggested the spot fromwhich the enemy would advance.
"We must chance it," whispered Cyril. "Quick; come along this way.Quiet."
They started away to their right, so as to get round to the back of thefire; but as fate had it, they went right into the arms of those whomthey were seeking to avoid. Not forty steps had been taken cautiouslythrough the dark shadows beneath the trees, before Perry uttered a cryas the two guides sprang up in their path.
"This way, Cil; run," he whispered.
"Hush! Silence!" came in a familiar voice. "Don't you know us, boys?"
Both Cyril and Perry were speechless, so great was the emotion caused bythe surprise, and they stared at the dimly-seen, bare-headed figureswearing the Indians' long, loose garments.
"Now, quick," said the colonel, stripping off the Indian frock, "offwith yours, too, Manning."
The man obeyed with all a well-drilled soldier's celerity and silence,and, stooping down, the colonel was about to thrust the cotton garmentsin amongst the undergrowth, when Cyril, who had now recovered himself,whispered a few words to the colonel.
"Good! Capital!" he said. "Only quick, and we'll wait here."
Cyril snatched at the two frocks, and, stooping down, laid them, wellstretched out, at a short distance from the fire, where, in the dimlight, they gave a rough idea of covering a couple of Indians stretchedout in sleep.
It was only the work of a minute, and then Cyril was back to where Perrystood excited and nervous, for the feeling was strong upon him that,after all, his father and Manning had slain the two guides.
"Where are the mules?" said Cyril to the colonel.
"Silence! Follow. Stoop till we are well beyond the fire."
"But our guns, sir?" said Cyril.
"I said silence, boy!" replied the colonel, and they went off in singlefile for about a couple of hundred yards in and out among the trees,till the colonel stopped short, and the boys made out that they werestanding by the mules, which were waiting, all ready laden, and withhanging heads, ready to proceed on their journey. Then, without anotherword, the colonel took the rein of the old leader, started off, andsteadily and quietly the others followed, the unladen last, while JohnManning and the two boys followed for some time.
"Here, take your fireworks, my lads," whispered John Manning at last."Pouches are fastened to 'em, and well filled with ammunition. I'llhelp you to put 'em on as we go."
All this in a whisper, and then Perry said: "You thought of our wantingthem, then?"
"Rum sort of soldier if I hadn't, my lad," growled the man. "Steady.Keep on walking. Under your right arm, my lad. That's it.--Now you,Mr Cyril."
"Mine's on all right," was the reply; and then it was always onward anddownward, in and out among the trees, with all around so dark beneathbranches, that, but for the steady, slow pace of the mules, which neverhesitated for a moment, the journey would have been next to impossible.And all the time, as the rustling, soft, trampling noise made by theanimals' hoofs went on, very few words were spoken, for every ear wasattent and strained to catch the first announcement of the pursuithaving begun.
The two boys felt no inclination to converse, but tramped on silentenough, while, when anything was said, John Manning was the speaker. Hewould begin by enjoining silence in the ranks, and the minute after,find he had something he must say.
"Don't think they've took the alarm yet, gentlemen," he said, after along time. "That dodge o' yourn with the Injuns' frocks was splendid.When they do come, take your word from me, as I command the rearguard;and fire low, for we must give them a volley."
Perry shrank from their old servant involuntarily, for it seemed to himhorrible that John Manning should speak in so cheery a tone from time totime, when, only a short time back, he had imbrued his hand in the bloodof their two guides. But at last he felt constrained to speak, thewords coming forth unbidden.
"Those two guides," he said huskily.
"Ay, poor chaps, it seemed hard, sir," replied the old soldier; "but itwas us or them, and, of course, it had to be them. We was obliged to doit, or else how was I to get the mules loaded?"
"But it seems so horrible," said Cyril.
"Oh, I don't know, sir. Sort o' tit for tat. They wouldn't ha' beenvery particular about us, and it was, as you may say, in self-defence.But, I say, Mr Cyril, don't you think I got all those packs down to themules pretty quick, and the beasts laden?"
"Wonderfully quickly," said Cyril.
"It was, sir, though I say it as shouldn't say it. I did get warm overthe job. Thought I should have had no end o' trouble with 'em, but theytook it as quietly as lambs; and as soon as they found out what wasgoing on, the pack-mules all hung together and waited their turns, whilethe saddle mules seemed to be looking on."
"Of course that was after the--after Diego and the other man--"
"Of course, sir. There'd ha' been no mule packing if we'd left thosetwo chaps to lift up their lovely voices, and shout to their friends forhelp. That would not have done, eh, Mr Cyril?"
"No; I suppose not, if we were to escape."
"And that's what we had to do, sir; for, as the colonel said to me morethan once, `We're not safe, John Manning, for sooner or later they'llfind out why I have come, and then I would not answer for our lives.'But we're off now in spite of 'em, and well provisioned too. My word, Idid get a warming over those mules; but the colonel's wonderful handy atthe loading, and helped me well. You see, he superintended a lot out inIndia, when we had mules and camels to carry our baggage. And we did itall fine. Listen."
They paused, but the faint pattering of the mules' hoofs was the onlysound; and they followed on again, John Manning keeping silence for atime, and then bursting out with a chuckle.
"I told you so yes'day, young gentlemen. The colonel 'll have somedodge to get us off, and there you are! He led, and it was grand theway in which he had worked it out. He didn't tell me till to-night, andwhen he had done, I laughed out. `Think it will do, John Manning?' hesaid. `Do, sir?' I says. `Of course it'll do;' and it's done. Don'tsuppose those two liked it much, poor fellows, but they had to put upwith it."
"Oh, John Manning," cried Perry excitedly, unable
to bear it any longer,"how can you treat it so lightly? If you had tied and bound the poorwretches, it would have been different, but to drag them away and killthem in cold blood! It is horrible."
"Well I _am_ blessed!" exclaimed the old soldier, in a tone and with anemphasis that showed how he was startled.
"And I'll never believe that my father meant it to be so."
John Manning gave Cyril a dig with his elbow, and he winked one eye, butthe act was invisible in the darkness.
"Why, it was him as 'vented the plan, sir. I only helped carry it out."
"Oh!" ejaculated Perry.
"Hadn't we got to escape, sir?"
"But in such a way!"
"Why, it was a splendid way, Master Perry. But I say I am ashamed ofyou to go private court-martialling your own father in that way, andfind such fault with him for helping you to get off!"
"I'm not going to judge him," said Perry. "I only say it was horrible."
"Well, yes, sir, it was, and is," said the old soldier, giving Cyrilanother dig. "Can't say as I should like to lie all night on my backwith my hands tied behind me to a big pole, and my ankles and kneesserved the same, just as if I was going to be roasted for a cannibal'sdinner, and to make it worse, an old worsted stocking rammed into mymouth, and a cloth tied over it and behind my neck, to make sure Ididn't get it out."
"What!" cried Perry.
"I said a stocking rammed into my month, sir, so as I shouldn't holler,only breathe. It is hard on a man, but what was you to do?"
"Then you didn't kill them," cried Perry joyfully.
"Kill 'em," said John Manning, in a tone full of disgust. "Did you everknow a British soldier, as was a soldier, go killing folk in that way,sir, when they'd been made prisoners? Master Perry, sir, I'm ashamed o'you for thinking such a thing o' your father, as is as fine an officeras ever stepped."
"Not so much ashamed of me as I am of myself," said Perry huskily."Then Diego and the other man are all right?"
"They don't think so," said the old soldier with a chuckle. "They'reprecious uncomfortable by this time, for I rammed the stockings prettyfar, and I tied them knots with those new hide ropes as tight as they'ddraw."
"Quiet there, quiet," said the colonel sternly, for he had stopped andlet the mules pass him. "No more talking for the present. Can you hearanything?"
"No, sir, not a sound," said John Manning. But even as he spoke therewas a faint cry borne on the night wind from high up the valley, andsituated as they were, that sound could only have one meaning--pursuit.