now, Hockins?" he asked sharply, turning to the
sailor.

"Die!" replied Hockins, in a tone of savage bitterness.

"Stuff an' nonsense! we no' die yit," said the negro, pointing to the
snake-like branches of a climbing plant which, spreading over the naked
face of the cliff, turned into a crevice and disappeared round a jutting
point.

"Will it bear our weight, lad?" asked the sailor doubtfully.

"It leads to nothing that I can see," said the young doctor, "and would
only ensure our being dashed to pieces instead of speared."

"Nebber fear, massa Breezy. Dis not de fus' time I's hoed troo de
forests. If you stop here you die. James Gingah he go on an' lib."

"Go on then, Ebony; we will follow," returned Breezy, slinging his gun
on his shoulder so as to leave his hands free.

A yell of disappointment on the cliffs above accelerated their
movements. It was evident that the pursuers had come out on the open
plateau, but had not observed the path by which they descended. As it
was certain, however, that they would find it in a few minutes, Ebony
sprang upon the creeping plant and clambered along its tortuous limbs
like a monkey. Young Breezy followed, and Hockins came last.

The plant was tough. It stood the strain well. If it had given way,
death on the jagged rocks below would have been the result. But death
by savage spears was behind them, so they did not hesitate. A few
seconds and all three had passed round the jutting rock and into the
crevice, where they were completely hidden from the view of any one
standing on the path they had just left.

In the crevice they found a ledge or platform sufficiently large to
admit of their standing together. They had scarcely obtained a footing
on it when another shout announced that the pursuer had traced their
trail to the head of the track.

We know not, reader, whether you have ever experienced that
heart-melting qualm which comes over one at the sudden and unexpected
approach of what, at least, appears to be death. If you have, you will
be able to understand the intense relief and thankfulness felt by the
fugitives when, safe from immediate danger, they listened to their
pursuers as they held excited conversation at the end of the broken
track. Not knowing the language they could not, of course, understand
what was said, and being just beyond the range of vision--owing to the
jutting cliff that concealed them--they could not see what their
pursuers were