To snakes or other reptiles that may have inhabited the warm pools through
which we splashed, we gave no thought. Somewhere ahead of us there was high
land--had we not rowed close enough to the promontory to hear breakers?
When Davie and Blodgett fairly panted to us to stop for breath, the cook
and Neddie Benson with one voice urged us on to the hills where we could
find rocks or trees for a shelter from which to stand off whatever savages
might pursue us.
Though we tried to make as little noise as possible, our splashing and
crashing as we raced now in single file, now six abreast, now as
irregularly as half a dozen sheep, must have been audible to keen ears a
mile away. When we came at last to woods and drier ground, we settled down
to a steady jog, which was much less noisy, but even then we stumbled and
fell and clattered and thrashed as we labored on.
At first we had heard in the night behind us, repeated over and over again,
those hoarse, unintelligible calls and certain raucous blasts, which we
imagined came from some crude native trumpet; but as we climbed, the rising
mist floated about us, and hearing less of the calling and the blasts, we
slowed down to a hard walk and went on up, up, up, through trees and over
rocks, with the mist in our faces and obscuring the way until we could not
see three feet in front of us, but had to keep together by calling
cautiously now and then.
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