第 13 页

They turned at right angles to the path, and dashed into the bushes. They sped noiselessly and swiftly on, describing a half-circle, and finally they headed for the balloon, the top of which had been visible all the time. On the verge of the clearing, in which the grappling line had been moored, they paused, and peeped anxiously through the interlaced bushes.

The situation, as revealed to them in the first glance, was simply this: All but three of the Arabs had van ished in the direction of the pistol shots, which was ex actly what Bunbury had intended his ruse to accomplish.

Those left behind were hauling hard at the grappling line, and the car was now within six feet of the ground.

"Those fellows are cowards at heart," whispered Bunbury. "A bold rush will give us possession of the balloon, and then we must take our chances with flying bullets.

"Will we shoot?" asked Roden.

"Yes, but not to kill," Bunbury replied. "Fire over their heads."

At that very instant, and before the hidden watchers could show themselves, a strange thing happened.

One of the three Arabs, a thin, scrawny fellow, became entangled in some way with the coils of the grappling line. In his struggles to get loose he jostled his companions roughly, and they lost their hold of the line.

The balloon rose instantly, and brought to with a jerk as the grappling-hook held fast to the bushes.

The Arab went up at the same time, for the line was noosed under his arms. There he dangled, close below the edge of the car, and more than twenty feet above the ground.

He yelled in a shrill tone as he swung to and fro, but his companions were seemingly too dazed and stupid to try to help him. They stood still, and looked up, shouting loudly and making signs.

"That's one less to deal with," exclaimed Bunbury. "Come on, lad; I have an idea that I think will pull us safely through."

With Roden at his side he dashed out of cover, and the moment the two Arabs on the ground caught sight of the white strangers, they fled, with alarmed cries, in the direction taken by their companions.

But they stopped on the verge of the thicket, and unslung their rifles with hostile intent.

Bunbury's shrewdness and quick action prevented bloodshed. He thrust his revolver into his belt, bidding Roden do the same. Then he held up both hands, and pointed to the yelling figure dangling in midair.

The two Arabs understood. Believing that their companion was to be rescued, they lowered their rifles.

Banbury and Roden instantly seized the rope ladder and began to ascend. They tried to appear cool and unconcerned, though their hearts were beating wildly.

They gained the car, and climbed into it. Together they hauled hard on the line until the balloon descended far enough to allow them to reach the Arab. With some difficulty they extricated him from the noose and pulled him into the car.

He was in a pitiable state of fright and weakness. He trembled all over, and could hardly breathe. Evidently the strain of the tight rope had squeezed him severely.

Banbury let the balloon rise to its full limit, and at that instant the remainder of the Arabs, nine in num ber, broke from the thicket into the clearing. With hoarse yells, they unslung their rifles and prepared to fire.

It was a critical moment, but again the danger was averted by Bunbury's quick wits. He knew that to cut the balloon loose under such circumstances would be fatal.

So he whipped out his revolver, and pointed it at the prisoner, making signs that a bullet would be his por tion unless he should instantly command his companions not to fire.

The frightened wretch comprehended, and promptly obeyed. Creeping to the edge of the car he leaned over, and shouted a few words in a husky tone.

The Arabs suddenly lowered their weapons, and crept a little nearer. Anger and awed perplexity was visible on their cruel faces.

Bunbury's grim expression relaxed to a half smile.

"I think we're going to have plain sailing now," he said calmly. "Level a pistol at the fellow, lad, and don't let him shout, or grab for any of our weapons."

Roden obeyed, and just then Bunbury jerked in the rope ladder with one hand, while with the other he drew a knife and severed the grappling line. A second later he flung over two sand-bags, and the balloon shot upward and was caught in the breeze.

The prisoner uttered a wild yell of terror, and crouched in the bottom of the car, with clasped hands and chattering teeth. But he became silent as soon as Roden made a threatening movement with the revolver.

The Arabs down below shouted ferociously, but they were plainly unaware that their bullets could have brought the balloon to the ground, and they were afraid to shoot at the car for fear of hitting their companion.

The balloon sped on and on at an altitude of seventy or eighty feet, and the baffled and yelling foes were soon out of sight in the bushes.

"That was the neatest thing I ever saw," said Roden in a tone of admiration, as he began to breathe freely again.

"Yes, it was pretty cleverly managed," admitted Bunbury. "The odds were fearfully against us. But at this rate, we'll run short of grappling lines. We've lost two already.

"I hope we won't have to make any more such hasty ascents," said Roden. "What are you going to do with the prisoner? Take him along?"

"Hardly, lad, though I would give a good deal to be able to turn him over to the English authorities on the coast. No; we'll drop down after awhile, and put him safely on the earth. Come to think of it, we owe him a sort of a debt of gratitude, for——"

Bunbury suddenly paused, and looked around him, with eager eyes.

"I can't be mistaken," he added joyfully. "Lad, the wind has certainly shifted, and in just the right quarter, too. We are heading southwest."

"To the southwest?" cried Roden. "Hurrah! hurrah! We will find Godfrey again."

"About as much chance of that as of finding a needle in a haystack," reflected Bunbury, but he did not put it into words.

However, the wind had really changed, and in a short time the balloon was skimming back across the Nile, several miles south of where it had formerly crossed."

Bunbury pulled the valve-cord, and let a small quantity of gas escape.

"We'll land on the other shore," he explained. "I want to give our prisoner a chance to get back to his companions."

But the necessity of making a descent was precluded by something that unexpectedly happened a minute later.

As the balloon dropped to an altitude of forty feet the Arab, who, of course, did not understand the intentions of his captors, caught a glimpse of the nearby water through a small hole in the bottom of the car.

Before Bunbury or Roden could prevent him, he sprang to his feet, and leaped madly into midair. They looked over the edge of the car in time to see him strike the water head first, and vanish.

An instant later he came to the surface, and swam for the shore, with easy strokes.

He had reached shallow water, and was wading within twenty feet of the bank, when the balloon, now high in the air, passed clear of the Nile and skimmed swiftly over the treetops to the southwest.

The day was yet in its infancy, for the sun had mounted scarcely an hour's span above the horizon.

It is now time to return to Godfrey and Arthur.

* * *

Chapter XX

The reader will remember how they sought to elude the bloodthirsty negroes by wading half a mile down the shallow edge of the river, and how, when they ventured to take to the shore, they heard faint shouting in the distance.

The meaning of these cries might be interpreted in two ways. Either the savages were giving vent to their disappointment at being outwitted, or they had just discovered the trick that had been played upon them.

Godfrey inclined to the former supposition.

"'The rascals are whooping and howling because your disappearance is too hard a nut for their stupid brains to crack," he said. "They don't believe you are drowned, or they wouldn't make any racket at all."

"Then what are we going to do about it?" asked Arthur. "Will it be safe to stay here, or to cut across the plain to that hillock you spoke of?"

"Not a bit of it, my boy. Our wisest plan is to tramp a few more miles down the river, before we talk of resting."

"All right, if it's got to be," replied Arthur, with a weary sigh. "But I'm pretty near played out, and my stomach feels like a bag of wind."

"I don't wonder," Godfrey replied sympathetically. "I wish I could infuse a little of my strength into your tired limbs. You shan't go hungry, anyhow. Here, eat these while you're on the move."

He took the hard biscuit from his pocket, and gave them to his companion.

"Thanks," exclaimed Arthur. "Did you keep any for yourself?"

"No," Godfrey answered promptly. "The fact is, I — I ate mine. I'm not a bit hungry." It was too dark to see the palpable' confusion in his face, and Arthur was satisfied.

He devoured the biscuits greedily, as he trudged at Godfrey's side down the reedy shore of the river.

There was silence behind them now, and they pushed hopefully on for fully an hour, covering perhaps three miles in that period.

Suddenly Godfrey stopped and held up a warning finger.

"Hark! what was that?" he said.

As he spoke a dull, thunderous sound came echoing on the still night air — a sound that made the fugitives start and shiver. A clamor of shrill voices followed, and again all was silence.

"That," declared Godfrey, "was the roar of a wounded lion. I know it well. The negroes roused the brute while following our track, and have no doubt despatched [sic] it with spears."

"Then we are discovered," exclaimed Arthur hoarsely.

"Yes, that's it. And the fiends are less than a mile behind. We must push for the mountains."

"Is there no other way?" cried Arthur. "Can't we try wading again?"

"That won't work," replied Godfrey. "We must make a dash for the mountains in a bee-line. It's that or capture. Keep a stiff upper lip, my boy. We'll baffle these black rascals yet."

"Go ahead," Raid Arthur. "I'm game to the last."

Then the race began — a race for life and safety against far more desperate odds than the fugitives dreamed of. By the light of stars and moon they could see the black bulk of the mountains staining the eastern horizon.

"What's the distance?" panted Arthur.

"Half a dozen miles at most," Godfrey replied.

"Breathe through your nose as much as possible, lad."

They went on for an hour, scarcely speaking during that time. They ran steadily, not at full speed, but on a jogging trot. As much as possible, they reserved their strength for a time of greater need.

They followed the line of the river, heading straight through grass and reeds, and leaping or wading the inlets and tributary brooks.

At frequent intervals they stirred up wild animals that had come down to drink — elephants, leopards and small deer. These were even more scared than the fugitives, and lost no time in seeking the shelter of the thickets.

There, was no sign or noise from behind, but this was far from indicating that the negroes had abandoned the chase.

"They are dogging our steps like bloodhounds, lad," said Godfrey. "There is safety for us only in the mountains, where the hard ground will conceal our tracks. We have not far to go yet. Brace up."

"I'm doing my level best," replied Arthur, "but it's tough work."

A little later the mountains loomed up very close. The river seemed to narrow at the gorge, for its waters could be heard crashing and roaring in the distance.

On each side a great peak towered toward the sky, apparently several thousand feet in height.

Just where the swelling foothills began, the fugitives were checked by a swift and shallow stream, two or three yards wide.

"This comes down from the mountains," exclaimed Godfrey. "I have an idea, lad. We'll follow it as far as we can, and thus give our pursuers something to puzzle about for a time."

So they entered the stream, and waded rapidly along its torturous and upward course, clambering from reef to reef, and alternately splashing through pools and shallows. The cool water, surging against their weary limbs, refreshed and strengthened them surprisingly.

Higher and higher they mounted, until, at the end of another hour, they were well above the base of the mountain, and nearly a mile beyond where the range was split in two by the river.

Straight ahead the torrent now came flowing from a narrow gorge, hemmed in by gigantic walls of rock.

"I don't like the looks of that place," said Arthur, coming to a halt.

"Nor I," answered Godfrey. "It will be best to turn off here."

Involuntarily he glanced on both sides of the stream, and to the left he saw a black triangular hole on the top of a sloping ledge of rock. The spot was about twenty feet up, and was clearly marked by a shaft of silvery moonlight that penetrated the foliage overhead.

Arthur made the discovery at the same time. "Look!" he cried, "it must be a cavern."

"You're about right, lad," replied Godfrey. "It's a rare streak of luck. We couldn't wish for a safer hiding-place; give me your hand."

But Arthur refused assistance, and easily climbed up the sloping ledge behind Godfrey.

They crept into the mouth of the cavern, and sat down to rest. Not a sound could be heard, except the distant roaring of the river. Evidently there was no enemy near.

"The wet places left by our feet are drying already," said Godfrey. "If the negroes follow us this far — which I doubt — they won't suspect that we have climbed up here. They will probably follow the stream on through the gorge."

"And after they have gone past, we can go back to the plain," suggested Arthur.

"Yes, unless a better plan offers," replied Godfrey, who had been moving his hand to and fro. "Have you any matches, lad?"

"About two hundred wax vestas," was the reply. "They are in a waterproof case, and each one will burn a minute."

"That's good," said Godfrey. "Strike a light."