For fifteen minutes I fought my way through the vines and plants. The
flashes were more intense, and nearer than before, but of rocks or of
anything familiar I saw not so much as a shadow.
“I’m lost!” I cried at last, “I’m lost!”
The confession burst from my lips as if to mock me. The stupendous
meaning of the truth burst in upon me ruthlessly. I was lost—alone in
this terrible jungle and night coming on apace! Every horror of my night
in the tree, above that ghastly banquet of the tiger, came vividly back.
Every thought of the snakes and the prowling beasts, in search of blood
and meat, seemed to burn deeper into my brain with the blinding shimmer
of lightning. I fled in one direction, then in another—then anywhere, at
random.
It was foolish and weak to race hither and yon as I did in my
semi-madness, but the dark jungle created an unspeakable dread in my
brain; its terrors were magnified by my contemplation of one danger
after another. I foresaw nothing but a dreadful death, which might come
soon or late. To find the camp of my Links I felt would be quite
impossible, for I knew absolutely nothing, by this, of one direction
from another.
Wildly and thoughtlessly I kept on going. A crash of thunder now split
open the clouds and let down a deluge of rain. It made no difference to
me, any more than did the darkness. But while I was pushing senselessly
ahead, I slipped on a patch of wetted clay and slid to an unseen edge,
over which I shot, going down below like a sack of bolts. I struck on my
feet, landing on something half soft. Instantly a furious growl of pain
and rage made me leap away forward. A brilliant dance of lightning made
the spot as bright as day—and I beheld two hideous ourang-outangs, which
had just been in the act of crawling into a cave, and on the legs of one
of which I had landed. They came quickly toward me, in a frenzy of
anger.
I dashed away, along a well-beaten path that was made through the
growth, the two brutes hotly pursuing. The darkness that followed the
glare of light was of only a second’s duration, so continuous had the
electric display in the heavens become. The beasts were gaining upon me.
Across a leaf-hidden log I pitched headlong. The ourangs were nearly
upon me when I sprang again to my feet and raced away. Still they
gained; and the noises they made chilled the blood in my veins, so
diabolical was the sound. My breath grew short, my bow, which I had
continued to hold in my hand, got caught for a second, yet I dared not
let it drop, though it caused me the greatest of trouble.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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