Swift and Sure: The Story of a Hydroplane

  CHAPTER XI--A LEAP IN THE DARK

  When Ruggles came within a few yards of the spot where the two watchersstood, Will softly hailed him. He looked round in alarm, and made asthough to beat a summary retreat. Then, lifting his eyes and seeingWill among the trees, he steered towards the bank, saying--

  "It's you, is it? I say, do you happen to have a glass of beer?"

  "No, I haven't."

  "Perhaps it's as well, but I am powerful dry."

  "I say, I am awfully glad to see you. Hold on! I'll come down and showyou the entrance to my garage. Are the others safe too?"

  "Not that I know of. I wish they were. Where have you beenskylarking?"

  "Skylarking! Good heavens! I've been worried out of my life. I'lltell you all about it, but first tell me where the others are, and howyou came here."

  The raft was drawn into the recess, and Ruggles was soon seated besideWill in the hydroplane, eating bread and cheese, and sighing for his oneglass of beer and a pipe to follow.

  "Not but what it's as well to do without 'em," he said. "If I beganlife over again I'd avoid beer and tobacco; at least, I would if Icould. Well, the morning after you went there was a rare shindy, as youmay imagine, when they found your manger empty. They hauled us out andquestioned us, and General Carabano looked as if he could have made ameal of us. O'Connor and I were as much surprised as he was, and wildwith the Chief for not telling us. However, the General got nothing outof us, and within an hour we were put on horses and marched up-countrywith a strong escort of those ruffians. Our hands were tied behind us,and our horses were led, the escort being mounted too.

  "I made out from what some of 'em said that their General was going tomake a dash on Bolivar, and didn't think we'd be safe at the hacienda.He wanted all his men for the raid, you see, and intended to leave onlya few peons to look after the camp and the horses. He couldn't trustthem, of course, and I reckon we'd have got away pretty soon if he hadleft us there. I didn't hear where they were taking us, and when Iasked the fellow who led my horse, he only grinned at me like an ape."

  "O'Connor was mad, no doubt," said Will.

  "You'd have thought so, wouldn't you? But he wasn't, a bit; or didn'tshow it. He tried to crack jokes with his man, and it was amusing,though not as he intended, for, as you know, his Spanish wouldn't covera half-sheet of note-paper. But all the time I could see he was lookinground for a chance of escape. However, I managed it, and so far as Iknow, he didn't. In my case it was sheer luck. Most of the escort werellaneros, fine fellows, too, as near gentlemen as any Venezuelan can be.But the fellow who tied me up was a bumpkin, who made a bungle of thejob. I held my wrists so that by giving them a twist afterwards I couldloosen the knots: you know the trick."

  "Rather! I should have thought O'Connor would have known it too."

  "He may or may not. Anyway, we came to a part where the path had asheer cliff on the one side and a precipice on the other; a sort ofsteep dell, you know, overgrown with trees and shrubs. The path was sonarrow that we had to go in single file, and, as luck would have it, Icame last, except one man riding free behind me. Just as we came to theprecipice I kind of saw there might be half a chance, so as my bumpkindrew ahead of me--he'd lengthened the leading-rein--I managed to givehis horse accidentally a kick in the flank that rather upset his temper.The fellow was in a fright; it looked a nasty drop to the left. Beingbusy with his horse he dropped the leading-rein. I wrenched my handsfree, brought my horse round on his hind legs--for an instant hisforelegs were fairly dangling over the precipice--and then drove himstraight for the man behind, wedging in between him and the cliff.

  "The path was narrow, as I said. There wasn't room for two, and as I'dgot the inside, the other fellow simply had to go over the precipice. Hewent. There was plenty of green stuff to break his fall, and I don'twish him any particular harm. You may guess I didn't wait to give himmy kind regards, but made off like the wind. The Chief gave me a cheer.Before I turned the corner that would hide me from the rest,half-a-dozen shots were flying after me, and one of them struck myhorse. But he kept on. I got safe to the end of the ledge, and thendived into the forest, where they might have hunted for a month ofSundays without finding me.

  "I dismounted as soon as I was pretty safe, and led the horse, but thepoor beast was done, and dropped after a few miles. I didn't feel veryhappy. You know what these forests are. Let alone the chance of losingyourself, there are too many jaguars and pumas and snakes to maketravelling on foot very pleasant. All I'd got to defend myself withwas--what do you think?"

  "What was it?"

  "A two-bladed pen-knife, one blade broken, that had slipped into thelining of my pocket and wasn't discovered when they searched us beforetying us up. It wouldn't have scared a toad. However, I've roughed itall over the world too long to grizzle over what can't be helped. Mygame clearly was to make for the Orinoco. All roads lead to Rome, theysay: it's certain that all streams in these parts lead to the Orinoco.It struck me I'd be safest on water, so I made up my mind to stop at thefirst stream I came to and build myself a raft. Floating down with thecurrent I couldn't fail to strike the Orinoco sooner or later."

  "A queer thing, this raft of yours."

  "It served my turn. You see, I was in a quandary. When I came to astream it was swarming with caymans, and, what's worse, watersnakes. Idursn't make a raft in their company, and yet I must make it on thebrink of the stream, for I couldn't have carried down one big enough tofloat me. There was plenty of material, of course--dead branches, andbejuco for fastening them together. After a power of thought I hit onthe notion of rigging up a sort of cage in which I could make the raftwithout the risk of having reptiles closer than I liked. I did that onthe bank out of range of the caymans--they're not partial to journeys onland. I pushed the cage--it was light enough--down to the edge of thestream, and brought down my materials, and put the raft together insidethe cage, where I was safe. It was a longish job. I had to push it outinto the stream bit by bit as I finished it, and was always in a stewwhen I left it in case the current carried it away before I was ready.However, the current was sluggish at the bank, so I was spared thatcalamity."

  "But how have you lived? It's four days since you went away."

  "I've lived in this country long enough to know what forest plants aregood for food. Not that they're very staying, nor to be compared withbread and cheese. I slept in trees, and here I am, thank God! though Ihadn't a notion I had got into this particular stream."

  "How far away were you when you escaped?" asked Will.

  "Thirty or forty miles at a guess. We marched all the first day andbivouacked for the night at a deserted estancia. I made a bolt for itabout ten next morning, struck the stream in the afternoon, and gottogether the material for the raft before nightfall. I finished it nextday, but had to spend another night in a tree, and the stream windsabout so much that it has taken me all day to get here."

  "I'm glad you've come, but it's a bad look-out for the others. GeneralCarabano has threatened to shoot you all to-morrow if he doesn't receiveL7,000."

  "The villain! He won't get it. I don't know what you think, but we'renot worth all that. How do you know?"

  Will then related all that had happened to him since he left thestables. When Ruggles heard of General Carabano's defeat he looked verygrave.

  "He'll be in a beastly temper," he said. "You and the Chief have dishedhim between you. He's not the man to have any mercy on folks who havestood in his way, and if he hears that I've escaped he'll be madder thanever. I don't fancy they'll let him know, though."

  "But he'll find out when he sends the order to shoot you, if he doesn'tgo himself. Time's up to-night. If he means what he says it'll be allup to-morrow, unless we can do something. Do you think we could go upin the hydroplane to the place where you struck the stream and thentrack them across country?"

  "I doubt whether we could do it. You see, I wandered about in theforest, and it
might take us a week to find the precipice, even withyour Indian."

  "Did you follow a road when you went off?"

  "Not so much as a bridle-path."

  "Could we lie in wait for the General's messenger to-morrow?"

  "We might do that. I know the main direction from the camp. But whereshould be we if the General goes himself? He's pretty sure to, and ofcourse he would take an escort. We couldn't tackle a crowd."

  "I've got a revolver."

  "One revolver wouldn't be much good. You might bring down the Generaland another, but then you'd be set on and done for. No: that's no good,and I can't see for the life of me that we can do anything."

  "But we must, Ruggles. Isn't there some way of finding out where theChief is?"

  "You can go and ask the General, and then he'd raise his terms toL12,000."

  Will was silent. It seemed, as Ruggles said, that the case washopeless. For some time he sat thinking, thinking hard. Suddenly hegot up.

  "Ruggles, I'm going to the hacienda."

  "Nonsense! I didn't mean it," said the man.

  "I shall go. I got into the house before; I'll do it again."

  "But what if you do?"

  "I might hear Carabano talking."

  "And you might not. It was a pure fluke before: luck won't play intoyour hands again."

  "Wait a bit. There's Machado. Ten to one he'll be at his cabinsometime to-night waiting for an answer. The General demanded a replyby midnight. If we could only catch Machado we could wring out of himwhere the Chief is, and I wouldn't stick at a trifle in dealing with thewretch. He's the worst of the lot, playing the traitor in our camp, andtorturing Jose. He deserves to be paid back in his own coin. I'll doit, Ruggles. It's a mercy you are here. I'll take Azito; you bring thehydroplane down with Jose, and wait at the end of the canal in case wehave to dash for it. Once on board the hydroplane we might defy themand chance snags."

  "It's dangerous, but if you're set on it I'm not the man to stay you.I've been in tight corners myself, and I'd stretch a good many pointsfor the Chief and O'Connor. But for any sake be careful. If they areto be shot we can't alter it, and what's the good of three beingmurdered instead of two?"

  "All right. I won't run my head into a noose if I can help it. I'llstart just before dark. You'll take care how you go down, won't you? Itwould be a disaster if you were wrecked."

  "Trust me, Mr. Pentelow. I hope you'll have as easy a job as I shall."

  In half-an-hour Will set off with Azito. They went, as they had gone inthe morning, across the old camp to the farther side of the railwayline, but instead of plunging into the forest, ventured to steal alongat the foot of the embankment. It was pitch dark by the time theyarrived opposite the new camp. Crawling up the embankment, they lay onthe top to take a good look around before going farther. There werefires in the camp, but these were beginning to die down: apparently themen had already cooked their evening meal. They could see the darkforms of the sentries as they passed between the tents. The house waslit up.

  They crept along the embankment until they came to the spot below which,about twenty yards from the line, stood the telegraph cabin. Will toldAzito to go forward until he could see the side in which the window was.In a few minutes the Indian returned and reported that there was nolight in the cabin. Will supposed that he had come too early: themessage was not expected before midnight. Yet it was strange that a manhad not been left at the cabin to give Machado notice if anycommunication was made. It was strange, indeed, that Machado himself,considering the importance of the expected message, had not thought itworth while, or been ordered by the General, to remain constantly onduty. Will was so much surprised that he determined to creep down tothe cabin and see for himself. Perhaps Machado might be taking a nap inthe dark. If he were not there, Will thought it possible to remain inhiding between the cabin and the line, seize Machado when he arrived,and wring out of him the information he desired.

  Bidding Azito remain on guard and warn him if he saw any sign of danger,Will descended the embankment on hands and heels and stole forward tothe cabin. He listened at the wall. There was no sound from within.The door faced the hacienda. Will peeped round the corner. The nearesttents were at least a hundred yards distant, and the fires were so lowthat they seemed to make the darkness only the more intense where theirlight did not directly fall. He crept round to the door, noiselesslylifted the latch, and, listening with his heart in his mouth, steppedin. It was pitch dark. There was not a sound. Grasping his revolver,he moved forward on tip-toe. He remembered clearly the position of thetable and chair, and groped towards them, putting out his feetstealthily so that he should not knock against them and make a noise.The table and chair were not where they had been. He touched the wall,and moved along inch by inch. To his amazement, the cabin was bare.Table, chair, telegraph instrument--all had been removed.

  What could be the meaning of this? Moving now without such extremecare, Will passed out again and looked up to see if the wire still raninto the cabin. He could just distinguish it against the starlit sky.He crept back towards the embankment, following the wire to the placewhere it left the telegraph line; and then he saw that another wire hadbeen connected, and ran across the gardens. Evidently after what hadhappened at the cabin, General Carabano had taken the precaution ofremoving the instrument. Will peered into the darkness to see if thewire entered a tent or another cabin, but after a few yards he lostsight of it. Returning to the spot where he had left Azito, he askedhim if he, with his sharper sight, could follow the course of the wire.The Indian stood looking for a few seconds: then he said that he saw apole about thirty yards from the house. It had not been there before.He went a few yards farther along the embankment, and declared that thewire stretched from the pole to the house, where it ran through one ofthe windows in a room at the side just behind the servants' quarters.The window was half-closed, and within the room was a light. Will couldno longer doubt that this was the place where Machado was awaiting themessage from Bolivar.

  Difficult as Will had known his task to be, it now seemed impossible. Onthe former occasion of his nocturnal visit to the house the camp washalf-a-mile distant. Now the tents formed the arc of a circle about it,the nearest of them being not more than a dozen yards away. Onlythrough the camp could the house be approached. Sounds of laughter andconversation could be distinctly heard: it was clear that the men wereas yet very lively. Even had they turned in for the night there werestill the sentries to elude. But when Will thought of Machado sittingat his instrument in that little room, almost within stone's throw ofhim, he could not bring himself to give up all hope of helping hisfriends. Five minutes with Machado, unless he had entirely mistaken hisman, would be enough to wring out of him the information he so earnestlydesired. Failing that information, he felt that the Chief and JerryO'Connor were doomed. Was there not, even now, a chance?

  He resolved to wait. Nothing could be attempted while the camp wasstill awake. Perhaps when the men had gone into their tents for thenight an opportunity for slipping past the sentries might offer. So helay down on the embankment, with Azito beside him, to keep vigil.

  Waiting is always tedious, and Will's impatience was such that he foundthe enforced delay almost unendurable. It was too dark for him to seehis watch, and he durst not strike a light. The fires sank lower andlower, but it seemed hours before there was any sensible diminution ofthe sounds in the camp. It was, in fact, nearly half-past ten beforesilence reigned and Will thought it possible to leave his post. BiddingAzito in a whisper to follow him, he crawled down the embankment withgreat caution, so as not to disturb a single stone or clod of earth, andstole as softly as a cat to the part of the encampment nearest to thehouse.

  When within a few yards of the tents, he lay on the ground to watch hisopportunity. He could just see the dark form of the sentry passing toand fro beyond the line of tents. The man's beat appeared to extend forabout fifty yards, and at the end of
it farthest from the house hestopped to talk to the sentry next him. Will heard the low hum of theirvoices. All was quiet within the house. To get into it he must passthe lighted window of Machado's room. The sentries were bound to seehim. What could he do?

  He lay for some minutes in sheer perplexity. The sentry passed morethan once. Suddenly he made up his mind to a desperate venture. Theroom next to Machado's was in darkness. It was, he knew, a cloak-room.There was a door between them. He would enter the enclosure boldlybetween the nearest tent and the house, when the sentries were nextengaged in chatting. They would never dream that an unauthorized personhad dared to come into the very jaws of the lion. There were manyIndians among General Carabano's men, so that the sight of Azito wouldnot necessarily alarm the sentries. He would walk with Azito openlyalong the back of the house, get beneath the veranda, where it was evendarker than in the camp enclosure, and by hook or by crook find anentrance.

  He explained his plan softly to Azito. The Indian was timorous, butafter a few moments' thought he agreed to accompany his master. Theycrawled to the right until they came just behind the last tent of theline, and waited until they heard the low hum of the sentries' voices.Then they stepped round the tent, and walked slowly towards the house.Will's heart was thumping violently, but he walked steadily on until hereached the steps leading up to the veranda. He saw with joy as hepassed the lighted window that a thin curtain hung across it. Thesentries gave no sign. He mounted the steps, Azito close behind, andstood by the window of the room next to Machado's. He waited for amoment, then gently tried the latch of the French window. It was notsecured. He opened the door, and they stepped noiselessly in.