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
“Leave me alone,” he said, as Stephen began to speak to him, “I shall be
better directly, but it has been awful. I will tell you about it
afterwards. I tried to make up my mind to stand it bravely, and it is the
getting out of it when there did not seem to be a chance in the world that
has upset me.”
In five minutes he rose again to his feet. “I am ready to go on now,” he
said.
“Yes, I think it is time to be moving, sir. As soon as those beggars wake
up and find you have gone, they will set out in chase, and the longer
start we get the better.”
CHAPTER V.
AGAIN ON THE ISLAND.
Over such ground it was impossible to hurry, but in three-quarters of an
hour they reached the edge of the wood.
“I have been thinking that we had better take to the water for a bit,”
Stephen said. “They are sure to think that you have made for the coast,
and they will not be long in finding our footmarks. Though I don’t know
much about the Malays, I expect they can follow a track like all other
savages. The only thing to settle is whether we shall swim across the
river and go along in that direction, or keep on this side. We have not
seen anything of alligators, and I don’t think the sharks ever cross the
bars and come into fresh water.”
“All right, sir! If you think it is best to cross, I am ready,” Wilcox
said. “A dip will do us good, for the heat in that wood is enough to roast
an ox; besides, it will wash the mud off us. But we must look about for a
log to put the gun and our pistols and the ammunition on, we must not risk
wetting that.”
There were many pieces of drift-wood by the edge of the water, and
choosing one of them they fastened the weapons and cartridges on the top,
and then, entering the water and pushing it before them, swam over to the
opposite side. Then taking the arms again they let the log drift down the
river, and keeping in the water ankle-deep they followed the stream down
to the sea, and continued their course along the sand washed by the surf.
“How long a start do you think we shall get, Wilcox?” Stephen asked.
“I should say that two hours is as much as we can hope for.”
“Well, we shall be a good long way off by that time. I feel a new man
after that swim.”
“So do I,” Joyce said, speaking more briskly than he had hitherto done.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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