"Wind. Why, I didn't see it coming, only thought it was evening. We're in for a storm."
"Never mind, if it will only keep them from following us, Ned."
They struggled on, finding their limbs less helpless. Minute by minute, and just before plunging into the darkness beneath the trees, Jack turned to raise his head slightly, and to his great delight saw ten or twelve of the blacks far below the smoke of their camp, and evidently descending the mountain slope, but the next instant his hopes were crushed, for there in full pursuit, coming along the stony hollow up which they had crawled, was another party of the enemy.
"In with you, Ned," he whispered, as he dropped down again to creep into the dense growth which swallowed him like a verdant sea, while before they had penetrated many yards the gloom beneath the spreading branches was lit up by a flash of lightning. The next minute the flashes came so quickly that the forest seemed turned into one vast temple, whose black pillars supported a ceiling of flame, and as the deafening detonations shook the earth around them, they were glad to crouch as quickly as they could in a recess formed at the foot of a gigantic tree which sent out flat buttresses on every side, more buttresses passing down into roots.
They were none too soon, for the storm was, brief as the time had been, now in full force; the rain dashed and swept in amongst the groaning trees, and the noise and confusion were deafening, and made the more awe-inspiring by the lashing of the branches as they were driven here and there by the wind.
"What's that, sir?" cried Ned, with his lips to his companion's ear, for a tremendous crash had succeeded a roar of thunder.
"Tree gone down."
"Oh!" said Ned, pressing Jack close up into the recess. "Well, so long as it ain't this one I suppose we mustn't grumble. But I'd rather have undressed myself before I took my bath, sir, wouldn't you?"
"Oh, how can you talk like that!" shouted Jack.
"'Cause I feel so jolly and satisfied," said Ned, with his lips again to Jack's ear. "A bit ago it was all over with us, going to be took and tied up again, sir. P'r'aps to be taken away and fatted and eaten. Now there's nothing the matter, only it's a bit dark. Don't seem, sir, as if I'm doing any good in trying to be your umbrella. You are a little moist, I suppose, sir?"
"Moist, Ned! I'm soaking; I can feel the water running down into my boots."
"Oh, never mind, sir. We'll have a good wring out as soon as the storm's over. But my word, I never saw lightning like this before, and never felt it rain so hard."
"Nor thunder so loud," cried Jack. "It is terrible. Hush! hark at that!"
"Water, sir, running down this way."
"Shan't be washed away from here, shall we, Ned?"
"No, sir, I think not. Seems to me that it's coming down that bit of a ditch we crawled up."
It was: the dry, stony bed having been filled in a few minutes six feet deep by a raging torrent, which was constantly being augmented by scores of furious rills, the upper portions of the mountain having been struck by what resembled a swirling water-spout.
"I say, Mr Jack, I hope the yacht won't get washed away. Which side of that stony ditch were the niggers when you saw 'em last?"
"The other side."
"Then they won't come this. Now if they'd only take to thinking that we'd been washed down the side and out to sea, what a blessing it would be for us! They wouldn't come and hunt for us any more."
"Don't--pray don't talk," cried Jack. Then to himself,--"Oh, if the storm would only keep on."
But, as has been shown, it did not. Its violence on their side of the mountain was soon exhausted, and it swept on and out to sea, leaving the fugitives standing where hundreds of rills came amongst the foot of the trees on their way toward the stream overflowing the stony channel, while the leaves and boughs poured down a constant shower of heavy drops.
By degrees the force of the water abated, the slope being too steep for it to continue long within the regular channels which scored the mountain side; and leaving their temporary asylum, the fugitives pressed on in the hope of reaching the ravine up which they had been making their way that morning when they hung back and were left behind.
But it was in a bewildered way that they pushed on, till hours must have passed, feeling that there was nothing for them but to try and find a refuge in some rude shelter such as they had several times encountered by the side of one of the lava-streams, where in cooling the volcanic matter had split up and broken, and formed wildly curious, cavernous places, any one of which would have been welcome.
Night was coming on fast; they dare not attempt to descend, and it began to be plain that they would have to be content with a resting-place on some stony patch from which the water had drained, when, as they staggered along, just within the sheltering gloom of the huge forest trees, they stumbled upon one of the ancient lava-streams, which stopped their progress like some mountainous wall, and a very few minutes'
search was sufficient to find the shelter they required, a dark, cavernous place whose flooring was of volcanic sand.
"It's dry as a bone, Mr Jack, sir," said Ned, after stooping down, "and as warm as warm. Well, sir, if this ain't sunshine after storm I should like to know what is!"
Jack was too much exhausted to reply, and directly after he began to follow his companion's example by stripping off and wringing his clothes.
"Black sunshine this, Ned," he said.
"Well, sir, it is certainly; but you can't say it ain't warm. You put your hand down on the sand."
"Yes; it's quite warm, Ned."
"Why, is this only the back-door into the burning mountain, sir?
Because if so, will it be safe?"
"Ned, I'm too tired to talk. Pray be quiet and let me think. We must be safer than out upon the mountain side. Let's lie down and rest."
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
A BI-STARTLER.
"What's that?" cried Jack, starting up into a sitting position, to face Ned, who rubbed his eyes and stared.
"I dunno, sir; sounded to me like a horrid shriek."
"Yes; that was what woke me, Ned," said Jack in an awestricken whisper.
"It sounded like some one being killed."
"There it is again!" cried Ned, as a harsh, shrill sound arose from close at hand, to be followed by a chorus of discordant cries, which seemed to run in by them to be echoed and made more hollow and strange.
"Talk about sharpening saws," said Ned, as he hurriedly began to dress, "why that's lovely to it. Cockatoos, that's what it is. Good job it's daylight, or I should have been thinking that we'd come to sleep in an awful place."
"I couldn't make out where we were, Ned, for some time. Did you sleep well?"
"I dunno, sir. Don't know nothing about it, only that I lay down and snuggled the sand over me a bit. Next thing I heard was those birds.
How did you get on, sir?"
"Slept! oh, so soundly!"
"And feel all the better for it, sir?"
"Yes--no, my head aches and feels sore from the blow."
"Ah, I should like to have a turn at those chaps, Mr Jack, sir; I owe 'em one, and you owe 'em one too. Perhaps we shall get a chance to pay 'em some day."
"I hope not," said Jack, who was hurrying on his clothes.
"You hope not, sir?"