Page:A Sailor Boy with Dewey.djvu/87

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THE FLIGHT FROM BUMWOGA.
73

me, and at the same time screamed as loudly as I did. Then of a sudden he paused, screamed again and gave a sudden loud moan and shriek as if in mortal agony.

"Now, don't make a sound," he whispered, as the shriek came to an end. "Ten to one those natives will think the alligators have eaten us."

"I hope they do," I answered, understanding his ruse and delighted with it. "But which way now?"

"We seem to be moving up a hill. Let us keep on until the top is gained. I am sure that will take us away from the village, and that is what we want."

On and on we went, the wet brush slashing in our faces. Often we sank into muddy holes up to our knees, but each time one would help the other out. Whenever a flash of lightning lit up the firmament we tried to look about us, but the forest cut off the view.

"I can't go much further," I gasped, at last, when Dawson announced a big cliff ahead. "We ought to find some sort of shelter there," he said, and he was not mistaken. Under a portion of the cliff was a cave-like opening several yards in depth, and into this we crowded, out of the fury of the storm. We listened intently, but for the balance of that night saw or heard no more of the Tagals.