tight to his particular branch, looked down at his companions, yawned heavily, and smiled a little. Then a sudden impulse of memory caused him to look grave.
“Come,” he said, dropping lightly from his perch, “these natives may have been searching for us all night, and are perhaps nearer than we suppose. I vote that we push on at once.”
“Agreed,” said Hockins, stretching himself.
“No fear, Massa,” remarked the negro. “If it wur moonlight dey might ’ave search, but whar de nights am dark dey knows better. De niggahs in dis yer island hab got skins an’ eyes an’ noses. If dey was to go troo such woods in de dark, dey hab no skins or eyes or noses in de mornin’—leas’wise nuffin’ wuth mentionin’. Cause why? Dey’d all git knocked into a sorter mush. Plenty ob time for breakfast ’fore we start.”
“That’s true, boy,” said Hockins, “but where’s the breakfast to come from?”
“What! you no bringed nuffin’ in your pockits?” asked the negro with a look of visible anxiety on his expressive face.
Hockins turned his various pockets inside out by way of reply.
“I am equally destitute,” said Mark.
The negro groaned as he slowly drew from his breeches pockets two sea-biscuits and a cold sausage.
“I meant dat,” he said, “as a light lunch for one yisterday.”
“It’ll have to do dooty, then, as a heavy breakfast for three this morning, Ebony. Come, divide, and let’s have fair play.”
“Here, massa,” said Ebony, handing the food to Mark, “you divide, I ain’t got de moral courage to do it fair. Number one is too strong in me when I’s hungry!”
With a laugh at this candid admission the youth did his best at a fair division. In a few minutes the scanty meal was finished, and the fugitives proceeded straight into the interior of the country at the utmost speed which was compatible with sustained exertion.
They could see the faint outlines of a mountain range in the far distance, and towards that they directed their steps, knowing that in the event of sustained pursuit they had a much better chance of escaping among the rugged fastnesses of a mountain region than in the forests or on the plains. But they saw plainly that there was many a weary mile to traverse before the sheltering mountains could be reached.
At first they walked rapidly and in silence, one behind the other—Mark leading—but as time passed, and the danger of being overtaken decreased, they fell more into line and began to talk of their plans and prospects.
Of course they thought about the Eastern Star, and the possibility of her hanging about the coast in the hope of picking them up; but as there was no certainty upon that point, and a return to the coast would be like rushing into the very jaws of the lion from which they were fleeing, they soon dismissed the idea as untenable.
“Now then, the question is, sir, Wot are we a-goin’ for to do?” said Hockins.
“Ay, dat’s de question,” added Ebony with much force, and more than Shakespearean brevity.
“Well now, lads,” said Mark, “I’ve been thinking over that, and it seems to me that there’s not much to choose between. Unfortunately, I know uncommonly little about this island—not that my geographical education has been neglected, but the class-books I have used did not give much information about Madagascar. I know, however, that the Mozambique Channel, which divides us from Africa, is a little too wide to swim. I also know that there is a capital somewhere near the middle of the island, the name of which begins with an ‘Ant,’ and ends with a ‘rivo.’ There are some syllables between, I believe, but how many, is more than I can tell. There’s a government in it, however, and a queen, and some Christian missionaries. Now, it strikes me that where there’s a government, a queen, and Christian missionaries, there must be more or less of civilisation and safety, so I would advise that we make straight for the capital.”
“Right you are, sir,” said Hockins. “As I know nothin’ whotsomever about the place, I’ll take my sailin’ orders from you, captain, an’ steer a straight course for Anty—whatever-she-is—arivo, where I hope we’ll arrive O!—‘all alive O!’ in the course o’ time. What say you, Ebony?”
“I’s agreeable; don’t care much for nuffin’ when it don’t trouble me. But I’s gettin’ awful hungry, an’ I don’t see nuffin’ to eat in dis yer forest—not even fruit—dough it’s pritty enough to look at.”
The scenery through which they were passing at the time was indeed more than pretty. It was gorgeous, and would certainly have claimed more attention from the travellers had they been less anxious to advance, and, perhaps, less hungry.
By that time—near mid-day—they had got through the densest part of the woods, and were come to a part where occasional openings in the foliage lighted them up. They had also discovered a narrow track or footpath, which they gladly followed; for although by so doing they ran the risk of coming suddenly upon natives, who might be foes just as well as friends, the comparative ease of travelling was too great to be neglected. This path struck over hill and down dale in a somewhat dogged and straightforward manner, scorning to go round hillocks, save when too precipitous for unwinged animals. At times it wound in and out among trees of great beauty and variety, and of tropical aspect. Elsewhere it plunged into denser stretches of forest, where the profusion of vegetable life was extraordinary—here, a dense undergrowth of shrubs, tree-ferns, and dwarf-palms; there, trees of higher growth, and, shooting high above them all, the slender trunks of many varieties of palms, whose graceful crowns and feathery leaves were pictured vividly on the blue sky. Elsewhere, innumerable creeping plants interlaced the branches, producing a wild and beautiful net-work, their tendrils crossing in all directions, and producing a green twilight in places. The whole was enriched by orchids, the abundant pink and white wax-like flowers of which contrasted well with other wild-flowers innumerable, and with many large and gorgeous flowering trees.
Different species of bamboos gave quite a peculiar aspect to the scenery in some places, and still greater variety was secured by long pendant masses of feathery grey moss and lichens. Some of the trees were of enormous height; one palm, with a straight stem, in particular, being estimated as not less than a hundred feet high to the spot where the leaves sprouted.
“’Tis a perfect paradise!” exclaimed Mark, stopping suddenly and looking around with admiration.
“Yes, massa,” murmured Ebony, with solemn looks, “if dere was on’y a few wegibles—cooked! Flowers is all bery well to look at, but we can’t heat him.”
“Well, if we can’t eat, we can, at all events, sleep,” returned Mark. “I believe it is usually thought wise in tropical countries to cease work and rest about noon, so, as I feel rather tired, I’ll have a snooze. What say you?”
No objection being made, the party again climbed into the branches of a low spreading tree, in order to avoid snakes, scorpions, or any other noxious creatures, though they knew not at the time whether such existed on the island. In less than five minutes they were sound asleep.
Awaking after about two hours’ repose, they descended, wished for something to eat, sighed, put a bold heart on it, tightened their belts to suit diminishing waists, and continued their journey.
Perseverance is sure to be rewarded. If that is not a proverb, it ought to be! At all events the perseverance of our travellers was rewarded at this time by their coming suddenly out of the woods into a wide grassy plain on which was browsing
