Guy in the Jungle Part 30

"Suppose we try it," said Forbes. "Anything to get away from this place."

"We can't get into a worse hole, that's true," added the colonel. "I believe you are right about the current, Chutney, though it can only land us on the edge of some whirlpool."

Sir Arthur was as eager as the rest to get away. He had pa.s.sed through so many horrors, he said, that he had become accustomed to them, and it mattered little what the future held in store for him. The raft was dug out from the sand and found to be in perfect condition. It was fastened together with twisted withes of some flexible wood. It was no easy task to get it into the water, but by all working together, and using the guns and paddles as levers, it was finally pushed into the lake and floated lightly on the surface.

The rugs, provisions, and what torches remained were carried on board, and with a final look round the island to see that nothing of importance had been forgotten, they quietly embarked, and Guy, with a shove of the paddle, sent the raft out on the lake. The object of the journey they hardly knew themselves. They were leaving behind them a spot a.s.sociated with dreaded memories, and that was all they cared to know.

"Don't do that," said Guy, as Canaris picked up a paddle and began to use it vigorously. "We must drift entirely with the current."

The torch was placed securely in a crevice of the logs, and in a very short time it was proved beyond a doubt that some current did exist. The island faded slowly from view.

Still reluctant to face their situation they grouped together and discussed various things. The Greek gave a long account of his curious wanderings and adventures. Guy and Melton spoke of their thrilling experiences in Burma only the previous year, and Colonel Carrington entertained them with the tale of his partic.i.p.ation in the bombardment of Alexandria in '82.

So the hours pa.s.sed on, and still they chatted of the outside world, forgetting for the moment the hopelessness of their present situation, the living tomb that had cut them off forever from the light of day.

"This reminds me of something I read a few months ago," said Sir Arthur, who was facing the situation with surprising calmness. "Some person mailed me from London _Blackwood's Monthly_ containing an installment of a story by the fellow who wrote that deucedly clever book, 'King Solomon's Wives.' Ah! what was the name now--aw, yes, Haggard--Rider Haggard----"

"Beg pardon, Sir Arthur," interrupted the colonel, "but the t.i.tle was 'King Solomon's Mines,' not his wives."

"Aw, that so, Carrington? Very well; doesn't make much difference.

However, the hero of the story was traveling, as we are, on a lake, only it was in the open air, and the outlet was slightly beneath the surface.

The water ran under a high wall of rock, and sucked the poor fellows and the canoe under. It would be funny if this lake had the same sort of an arrangement."

"Well, it hasn't," replied the colonel. "We went all around the walls in a canoe, and if any such place as that had been in existence we would not be here now, that's all."

"No, I suppose not," said Sir Arthur. "I'm going to take a nap. Wake me if anything turns up, will you?" And making a pillow of one of the rugs, he was soon snoring.

"It will be a mercy if he never wakes," said Chutney in a husky voice.

"Not much danger of that, however. We have food enough to last us a couple of weeks yet, and unless we take your suggestion, colonel, and toss it into the lake, we are good for that length of time, I suppose."

"Yes," rejoined the colonel, "unless we get sucked into a whirlpool or the serpents attack the raft in force."

After that nothing was said for an hour or more. Their fate stared them in the face with all its awful realism.

But even under these circ.u.mstances they grew drowsy, and dropped off one by one among the rugs, except Guy, who declared his intention to stay awake and be on the lookout for any danger that might threaten.

His was a solemn and lonely vigil. He envied his companions their power to sleep, as the canoe drifted on through the gloom. The torch burned slowly out, and he replaced it with a fresh one. His loaded rifle lay within reach, but nothing happened to arouse his fear.

Sad and bitter were the reflections that surged into his mind. As the events of his life rose up before him with wonderful clearness time pa.s.sed unheeded, and at last his brain grew weary, and rolling over on the rugs he fell instantly into a deep slumber.

Strangely enough he was the first to awake. He had slept a long while, he saw at a glance, for the torch was burnt almost to a cinder. The rest were still sleeping.

"We must have been drifting for at least twelve hours," he said half aloud. "We should be across the lake by this time."

He picked up a fresh torch and lit it from the expiring flame of the other. As he stuck it in the crevice the glare suddenly revealed a wall of rock a few yards distant, and in a very short time the raft struck the sh.o.r.e with a harsh rattle that proved the impulse of the current beyond a doubt.

The concussion failed to rouse the sleepers, and Guy was hesitating whether he ought to do so or not when a faint sound came indistinctly to his ear.

At first he could scarcely believe the evidence of his own senses. He fancied it must be a delusion, a buzzing in his ears. The strangest part of it was that the sound actually resembled running water.

He listened a while longer, and then quietly woke the Greek, who sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Canaris," he whispered, "do you hear anything?"

An interval of silence followed, inexpressibly painful to Guy, and then the Greek cried excitedly, "Yes, I hear running water. It comes from the other side of the cliff."

"Then I am not mistaken," was Guy's joyful exclamation. "We both hear it. It can be no delusion."

Then his heart sank as he thought of the wall of rock before them.

"It is the outlet of the river," he said bitterly, "only a few yards distant, and it might as well be a thousand miles."

Remembering what Sir Arthur had told them, he looked anxiously at the surface of the lake, but the water was calm and quiet, and the raft hung motionless.

"The outlet is far beneath the surface," said Canaris. "You can tell that by the sound. If it were near the top we would be instantly sucked under."

Impelled by an irresistible impulse Guy seized the torch and held it above his head.

"Look! Look!" he cried, in a voice that trembled with excitement. "The cliff slants at an angle. There are crevices to hold one's hands and feet. Make no noise, Canaris; don't wake the rest, but help me to reach that ledge yonder and I will see where this leads."

The cliff slanted indeed, but at an almost imperceptible angle. The raft tilted slightly as Canaris pushed Guy up the face of the rock, but the latter succeeded in reaching a small ledge six feet above the water.

"All right," he whispered. "I can see plenty of places to catch hold of beyond me. Now fasten a torch to one of the paddles, Canaris, and hold it as high as you can."

This was a clever suggestion. The Greek fortunately had a bit of cord about him, and in a moment the torch was throwing a dull light far up the rugged slope of the rock.

Guy continued to climb higher and higher, keeping a cool head in spite of his excitement, and testing well each crevice or projecting ledge before trusting his weight to it, and at last, with a throb of joy that nearly took his strength away, he pulled himself out upon the flat summit of the rock.

Seventy feet below him was the raft and its occupants, glowing in the torchlight. Guy crawled forward on his hands and knees, and soon reached the verge of the rock on the other side. The running water was below him, much farther, indeed, than the level of the lake, but the roar of the torrent was loud and distinct to the ear.

He turned and crawled back.

"Canaris," he whispered down, "I have reached the top of the cliff.

There is running water on the other side. Waken the rest as quickly as possible, and send some one up with a torch. I forgot to bring one with me."

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

A TERRIBLE BLUNDER.

From his gloomy perch on top of the rock Guy could see all that happened plainly.

Canaris woke his companions as speedily as possible. Their astonishment at finding Guy missing was very great, and at first they seemed scarcely able to comprehend the Greek's explanation.

Then they glanced eagerly overhead; and hailed Guy with shouts of joy.