With Cochrane the DauntlessHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
General
With Cochrane the Dauntless
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Biographical fiction; Dundonald, Thomas Cochrane, Earl of, 1775-1860
They now continued their course steadily, Pita before they started taking
off Stephen’s boots and wrapping a broad band of soft leather he had
brought with him round and round his feet.
“The heels of your boots make tracks an Indian might almost follow in the
dark. You had better throw them into the next clump of bushes you come to;
we can get another pair at the mission.”
In the course of the day they crossed two other streams, and at each of
them took measures as before to throw the Indians off their track. They
kept on till nightfall, and then Stephen and Pita lay down, Hurka saying
that he would watch until midnight.
“You don’t think the Indians will follow at night?” Stephen asked.
“There is no fear of that, señor. They dread the wild beasts; there are so
many in these forests, and they can scent a human being a long distance
away. We have chosen this tree because, as you see, the lower branch is
near the ground, and it will be easier to climb up into it if I give the
alarm.”
The next morning shortly after starting they came to a bank of a stream
larger than any of those they had passed on the previous day. Here they
had a short consultation, and then Hurka and Pita set to work to cut down
a large number of great rushes growing in the water, taking care to cut
them some inches below its level. With the aid of some creepers a raft
capable of sustaining them all was speedily made, and on this they took
their places, and the Indians having cut two poles to steer by, they
pushed off into the middle of the stream. The current was very sluggish,
and they would have made but small way had not the two Indians poled
vigorously. Stephen was thankful indeed for the change; upon the previous
day he had only been enabled to keep up with the greatest difficulty, and
had felt that another day’s labour would bring him to a stand-still.
“They will walk quite as fast as we are going,” he said presently.
“Yes, señor, faster; but they are probably still far behind, us. They
will, no doubt, find our trail at the points where we have left the
streams, but, thanks to the pains we have taken to throw them off, will
lose much time in having to search very carefully up and down every stream
they come to. It will be the same if they trace us to the spot we started
from on this raft; some must go up and some down, and both sides of the
stream must be carefully searched. We are going nearly as fast as they
will be able to do; besides, now we can travel at night. If they do not
overtake us by evening, of which I think there is no chance, we shall be
so far ahead by next morning that we shall be perfectly safe.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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