by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.
THE RUNAWAY.
Man rarely yields up his life without an extreme effort to preserve it.Despair is a strong feeling, but there are those whose spirit it cannotprostrate. In later life mine own would not have given way to suchcircumstances as surrounded me at that time; but I was then young, andlittle experienced in peril.
The paralysis of my thoughts did not continue long. My senses returnedagain; and I resolved to make a new effort for the salvation of my life.
I had conceived no plan, further than to endeavour once more to escapeout of the labyrinth of woods and morass in which I had becomeentangled, and make as before for the village. I thought I knew thedirection in which it lay, by observing the side at which I had firstentered the glade. But, after all, there was no certainty in this. Itwas mere conjecture. I had entered the glade with negligent steps. Ihad strayed all around it before lying down to sleep. Perhaps I hadgone around its sides before entering it--for I had been wandering allthe morning.
While these reflections were passing rapidly through my mind, anddespair once more taking possession of my spirits, I all at onceremembered having heard that tobacco is a powerful antidote tosnake-poison. Strange the idea had not occurred to me before. But,indeed, there was nothing wonderful that it did not, as up to thatmoment I had only thought of making my way to Bringiers. With noreliance upon my own knowledge, I had thought only of a doctor. It wasonly when I became apprehensive of not being able to get to _him_, thatI began to think of what resources lay within my reach. I nowremembered the tobacco.
Quick as the thought my cigar-case was in my fingers. To my joy onecigar still remained, and drawing it out I proceeded to macerate thetobacco by chewing. This I had heard was the mode of applying it to thesnakebite.
Dry as was my mouth at first, the bitter weed soon supplied me withsaliva, and in a few moments I had reduced the leaves to a pulp, thoughnauseated--almost poisoned by the powerful _nicotine_.
I laid the moistened mass upon my wrist, and at the same time rubbed itforcibly into the wound. I now perceived that my arm was sensiblyswollen--even up to the elbow--and a singular pain began to be feltthroughout its whole length! O God! the poison was spreading, surelyand rapidly spreading! I fancied I could feel it like liquid firecrawling and filtering through my veins!
Though I had made application of the nicotine, I had but little faith init. I had only heard it casually talked of as a remedy. It might,thought I, be one of the thousand fancies that people love to indulgein; and I had only used it as a "forlorn hope."
I bound the mass to my wrist--a torn sleeve serving for lint; and then,turning my face in the direction I intended to take, I started offafresh.
I had scarce made three strides when my steps were suddenly arrested. Istopped on observing a man on the edge of the glade, and directly infront of me.
He had just come out of the underwood, towards which I was advancing,and, on perceiving me, had suddenly halted--perhaps surprised at thesight of one of his own kind in such a wild place.
I hailed his appearance with a shout of joy. "A guide!--a deliverer!"thought I.
What was my astonishment--my chagrin--my indignation--when the mansuddenly turned his back upon me; and, plunging into the bushes,disappeared from my sight!
I was astounded at this strange conduct. I had just caught a glimpse ofthe man's face as he turned away. I had seen that he was a negro, and Ihad noticed that he appeared to be frightened. But what was there aboutme to terrify him?
I called out to him to stop--to come back. I shouted in tones ofentreaty--of command--of menace. In vain. He made neither stop norstay. I heard the branches crackle as he broke through the thicket--each moment the noise appearing more distant.
It was my only chance for a guide. I must not lose it; and, bracingmyself for a run, I started after him.
If I possess any physical accomplishment in which I have confidence itis my fleetness of foot. At that time an Indian runner could not haveescaped me, much less a clumsy, long-heeled negro. I knew that if Icould once more got my eyes upon the black, I would soon overhaul him;but therein lay the difficulty. In my hesitation I had given him a longstart; and he was now out of sight in the depth of the thicket.
But I could hear him breaking through the bushes like a hog; and,guiding myself by the sound, I kept up the pursuit.
I was already somewhat jaded by my previous exertions; but theconviction that _my life depended on overtaking the negro_ kindled myenergies afresh, and I ran like a greyhound. Unfortunately it was not aquestion of simple speed, else the chase would soon have been brought toan end. It was in getting through the bushes, and dodging round thetrunks of the trees, that the hindrance lay; and I had many a struggleamong the branches, and many a zigzag turn to make, before I could getmy eyes upon the object I was in pursuit of.
However, I at length succeeded in doing so. The underwood came to anend. The misshapen cypress trunks alone stood up out of the miry, blacksoil; and far off, down one of their dark aisles, I caught sight of thenegro, still running at the top of his speed. Fortunately his garmentswere light-coloured, else under the sombre shadow I could not have madehim out. As it was, I had only a glimpse of him, and at a good distanceoff.
But I had cleared the thicket, and could run freely. Swiftness had noweverything to do with the race; and in less than five minutes after Iwas close upon the heels of the black, and calling to him to halt.
"Stop!" I shouted. "For God's sake, stop!"
No notice was taken of my appeals. The negro did not even turn hishead, but ran on, floundering through the mud.
"Stop!" I repeated, as loudly as my exhausted breath would permit."Stop, man! why do you run from me? I mean you no harm."
Neither did this speech produce any effect. No reply was given. Ifanything, I fancied that he increased his speed; or rather, perhaps, hehad got through the quagmire, and was running upon firm ground while Iwas just entering upon the former.
I fancied that the distance between us was again widening; and began tofear he might still elude me. I felt that my life was on the result.Without him to guide me from the forest, I would miserably perish. He_must_ guide me. Willing or unwilling, I should force him to theoffice.
"Stop," I again cried out; "halt, or I fire!"
I had raised my gun. Both barrels were loaded. I had spoken in allseriousness. I should in reality have fired--not to kill, but to detainhim. The shot might injure him, but I could not help it. I had nochoice--no other means of saving my own life.
I repeated the awful summons:--
"Stop--or I fire!"
This time my tone was earnest. It left no doubt of my intention; andthis seemed to be the impression it produced upon the black; for,suddenly halting in his tracks, he wheeled about, and stood facing me.
"Fire! and be dam!" cried he; "have a care, white man--don't you miss.By Gor-amighty! if ya do, your life's mine. See dis knife! fire now andbe dam!"
As he spoke he stood full fronting me, his broad chest thrown out as ifcourageously to receive the shot, and in his uplifted hand I saw theshining blade of a knife!
A few steps brought me close up; and in the man that stood before me Irecognised the form, and ferocious aspect of _Gabriel the Bambarra_!