But here," says he, "no man can roll down a hundred yards without setting foot to the ground. Howsomever, we're shut of the dog for our consolation."

Scarce were these words out of his mouth when they were forcibly contradicted by a fierce barking close in our rear; and turning about we spied the brute (as big as a wolf and as horrid) bounding towards us.

But seeing us prepared with our swords to cut him in pieces, he stops short. Nor would he anyhow permit us to get near him (though Matthew, to tempt him, hid his sword behind him, and made forward with his hand out, saying "Poor doggy" very civilly, as though he would caress him), but backing when we advanced towards him, approaching as we went on, the dog contrived ever to keep well out of our reach, all the while barking to be heard a mile off.

"This will never do," says I; "the Portugals will be down on us directly."

"Ay," says he; "do you cut a way through the briars, while I keep this brute off."

So I hacked away with all my might at the lianas, while Matthew occupied himself with the dog, sometimes in Portuguese, commanding him (as I judged) to go home in a tone of authority, or entreating him mildly to come near and get a chop for his pains; but all to no purpose, except that he kept him from doing us a mischief with his fangs.

"Go home, you beast!" cries he: and then in the same breath, "Would we were back in my old valley, master: I'd brain you with a rock in a twinkling. But here is nothing to hurl at the cursed beast. Nice old doggy, come here!"

But now he had to hold his peace, for we could hear in the woods above us the voices of Portugals crying to one another, and shouting encouragement to the dog; nor dare I chop our way further, lest the flashing of the sword should be seen above the growth about us, and bring a shower of musket-b.a.l.l.s upon us.

The only thing that saved us from immediate discovery and apprehension was that our pursuers found the same difficulty in advancing that we had overcome, and had to cut their way to where they heard the barking of the dog.

"If we could only silence that vile dog!" whispered Matthew, grinding his teeth.

"Ay," says I, "but how may we do that?"

"I see but one way," says he, "and that not very promising, but 'tis better than to wait here and be shot. Let us go back the way we have come."

"Why," says I, "that is but to offer ourselves the sooner to the Portugals."

"Nay," says he, "they are still a pretty fair distance off. Come and do as I ask you."

"Lead on, friend," says I. "You are better acquainted with this warfare than I."

So Matthew started at once to go back up the hill by the way we had cut through the growth, which did seem to me the rankest folly in the world.

And what made it look worse was that, instead of trying to pacify the dog, he enraged it more than ever by thrusting at it with his sword, spitting at it, etc., but in betwixt he gave me instructions, and opened out his designs.

"You see the big tree on your right hand in front?" says he.

"Ay," says I.

"Get behind me, and when I pa.s.s that tree slip behind it and wait ready with your sword. The dog knows me, and takes no note of you."

There was no time to say more, for he had come abreast of the tree, and here he did draw the dog into a greater rage than ever, so that (as he had directed) I slipped behind the tree un.o.bserved. And now, seeing Matthew's excellent design, I waited with my sword raised above my head.

After he had gone forward another two or three paces, Matthew begins to draw back, all the while gibing and jeering at the dog, who was now so furious that he even ventured to snap at the sword-blade when Matthew thrust it forward; and so step-by-step Matthew falls back until, pa.s.sing me a couple of paces, the dog comes snapping and snarling forward after him till he is fairly within my reach, when with one swift blow I did cut him right through the loins clean in two halves.

CHAPTER XLIII.

WE LAY OUR HEADS TOGETHER CONCERNING WHAT IS BEST TO BE DONE.

Now having slain the dog, as I have shown, we crouched us down, that we might not be seen, feeling pretty secure; for those who pursued were a good way to the north of the path we had cut for ourselves, and unless by accident they hit upon that, they might hack and hew for a whole week (now there was no dog to betray our whereabouts) without coming nigh us.

Indeed, as the old saying goes, 'twas like searching of a needle in a bottle of hay, with this addition--that they who searched were no bigger than the needles they sought. As we squatted there we could plainly see them chopping at the growth to make a pa.s.sage (which was a comforting a.s.surance they had not hit upon the alley we had made), together with much cursing and swearing; very grateful also to our ears, as showing they liked not their business, and crying out to the dog, who, for aught they knew, had started some game or was busy battening upon his prey.

For some time this uproar continued, and at one moment it seemed to be coming perilously near; but in the end they overshot us, going down the hill some way below. Then they gave over shouting, and we heard no more of them, by which we judged they had given up the attempt to find us or the dog in despair, and were gone back the way they had come.

So when we counted it safe to move, we once more began to force our pa.s.sage down to the river; and, not to tire the reader as much as we tired ourselves in this business, we at length reached the water-side.

Here, being exhausted with our exertions and faint for want of food, we made a fire, and ate a serpent roasted on the embers, which Matthew had cut down; and this I recollect, because it was the first time I had tasted of these reptiles; nor should I then have eaten it, having a great loathing for such worms, but that Matthew a.s.sured me they were excellent meat, as indeed they are for those who can get no better.

While we were regaling ourselves I begged Matthew to tell me why he had come down to the river instead of returning to the road.

"For two reasons, master," he replies. "First of all, there was not a bend of that road that was safe for us, seeing that at any turn we might have marched smack into the hands of the Portugals."

"I don't see that," says I; "for we had stood a better chance of catching sight of Lewis de Pino and his train going on before us than they of spying us creeping on behind them."

"How about the others?" says he.

"What others?"

"Why, they who have been hunting us with the dog."

"They, I take it, are Lewis de Pino's men," says I.

"Lord love you, master, not they!" says he. "Do you think that dog was his, too? Oh, no! He and I are old enemies. He belongs to my old master the factor, and is kept at the station to hunt poor runaways. I knew the moment I heard his bark that my factor's men were on our heels. Villain!

he is shrewd enough to know you would follow in your cousin's steps, and dispatched his men--if he be not himself at their head--to search the road and apprise De Pino of your escape. Now, master, if they had slipped by without being betrayed by the dog they would have spurred on till they overtook De Pino, and finding us not with him would have laid in ambush to take us as we followed after. Do you think I'm far out in my calculation?"

"No," says I; "you're right, I must allow, Matthew; and now for your second reason."

"The second hangs on to the first, master; for it stands to reason that if we ran a fair chance of losing our own liberty by sticking to the road, we were in a poor way to save the female. I went a bit too far maybe in supposing that you had no certain scheme of your own for circ.u.mventing De Pino."

"No," says I; "you were in the right again there: I had no fixed purpose."

"You had a notion maybe that we might catch De Pino and his men all napping, and that we might just get away with the female before they woke."

I admitted that if I had any scheme at all it was no better than that.

"Well, master," says Matthew, "we must give the Portugals credit for having sense enough to sleep with one eye open after being warned that you were at large, and so you must see that it would be courting our own destruction to attempt any such design as that."

"Ay," says I, "but I sha'n't be content to escape destruction myself if my cousin is to be abandoned to a worse fate."

"True, master," says he; "but as her escape depends on our existence, we must insure the latter for to compa.s.s the former."

"There I agree with you," says I; "but do you, if you can, show me by what means you reckon to get at my Lady Biddy, for up to this you have only led me further away from her."

"Master," says he, "so far as my observation goes, the best part of mortal success has been achieved by the turning of happy accidents to advantage, and our success in this undertaking must likewise depend upon favorable circ.u.mstances coming to our hand. Nevertheless, we can do something, and the best chance of gaining a victory is to attack the enemy on the side where a.s.sault is least looked for; and so," says he, seeing I was pretty well driven to the end of my patience with his philosophy, "instead of hanging about in De Pino's rear, where he undoubtedly expects to spy us, we must get in front of him, where he as little looks to meet us as the man in the moon."

"And how on earth do you expect to get in front of him by coming down here?"

"By the river," says he, "where there are neither rocks to throw us over, nor briars to balk our progress."