Real Gold Part 35

"Was it never to end?" the lads asked themselves, and though neither made any allusion to their thoughts, they were tortured by fancies of what might have happened, till at last Perry was certain that, instead of the colonel and John Manning killing the two guides, these two men had turned upon them and stabbed them to the heart.

At last the boy could bear this thought no longer. He fought hard to keep it to himself, but it would have vent finally, and as they turned to continue their weary tramp, he suddenly caught Cyril fiercely by the arm.

"They won't come back to us," he whispered. "They cannot. Diego and the other man turned upon them, killed them, and those were their cries we heard. They're both dead, Cil--they're both dead."

"And your father has come to tell us he has been killed," said Cyril, with a forced laugh, which was more like a hoa.r.s.e cry of agony. "At last," he groaned: "I don't think I could have borne it any longer."

"What do you mean?" said Perry.

"There--by the fire. Here they come."

Perry looked sharply round in the direction pointed out by his companion, and then the pulses of both seemed to stand still, for they heard the approach of Indians from the direction of the clearing.

Almost at the same moment, they could plainly see by the faint light of the fire, not the colonel and John Manning coming to fetch them at last, but the figures of the guides bending down, and then beginning to approach, in the soft furtive manner of a couple of wild beasts about to make their fatal spring.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

ADVENTURES OF A NIGHT.

"He was right," muttered Cyril, as the blood rushed to his head and made him feel giddy; "and now they mean to have us, but--"

He stopped short, and his teeth made a grating sound as he seized Perry by the shoulder. "Can you fight?" he whispered. "I--I don't half know," groaned Perry. "I'll try."

"That's right. We must," the boy continued. "They shall find we're English after all."

"What are you going to do?" said Perry, holding on by his companion's arm.

"Get our guns. They're close by the fire there. What are those two doing?"

"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 more wood."

"Then, as soon as they come toward us, we must run round and try to get our guns."

They stood in the darkness watching for some moments, while the guides still busied themselves about the fire, wandering here and there, as if busy about something; though, after seeing the flames rise, on the first portion of wood being added, their object appeared vague.

All at once the rustling toward the clearing recommenced, and the boys looked sharply in that direction, fully expecting that the first attack would come from there; but the sound grew fainter, and they knew that the Indians must be going back, apparently satisfied with their scrutiny. 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 brief moments during which their backs were turned, the guides had disappeared, and all was silent; not a sound suggested the spot from which 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 the fire; but as fate had it, they went right into the arms of those whom they were seeking to avoid. Not forty steps had been taken cautiously through the dark shadows beneath the trees, before Perry uttered a cry as 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 by the surprise, and they stared at the dimly-seen, bare-headed figures wearing the Indians' long, loose garments.

"Now, quick," said the colonel, stripping off the Indian frock, "off with 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 garments in 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 s.n.a.t.c.hed at the two frocks, and, stooping down, laid them, well stretched out, at a short distance from the fire, where, in the dim light, they gave a rough idea of covering a couple of Indians stretched out in sleep.

It was only the work of a minute, and then Cyril was back to where Perry stood 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 single file 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 were standing by the mules, which were waiting, all ready laden, and with hanging heads, ready to proceed on their journey. Then, without another word, the colonel took the rein of the old leader, started off, and steadily and quietly the others followed, the unladen last, while John Manning 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'll help you to put 'em on as we go."

All this in a whisper, and then Perry said: "You thought of our wanting them, 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 and downward, in and out among the trees, with all around so dark beneath branches, that, but for the steady, slow pace of the mules, which never hesitated for a moment, the journey would have been next to impossible.

And all the time, as the rustling, soft, trampling noise made by the animals' hoofs went on, very few words were spoken, for every ear was attent and strained to catch the first announcement of the pursuit having begun.

The two boys felt no inclination to converse, but tramped on silent enough, while, when anything was said, John Manning was the speaker. He would 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 a long 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 him horrible that John Manning should speak in so cheery a tone from time to time, when, only a short time back, he had imbrued his hand in the blood of their two guides. But at last he felt constrained to speak, the words coming forth unbidden.

"Those two guides," he said huskily.

"Ay, poor chaps, it seemed hard, sir," replied the old soldier; "but it was us or them, and, of course, it had to be them. We was obliged to do it, 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' t.i.t for tat. They wouldn't ha' been very 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 the mules pretty quick, and the beasts laden?"