Page:The White Slave, or Memoirs of a Fugitive.djvu/228

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MEMOIRS OF

could; and looking round we found a little stream of water with which to wash away the blood, and quench our thirst.

Thus recruited and refreshed, we began to consider which way we should turn, and what we were to do. We did not dare to go back to the camp where we had slept; indeed we were very doubtful whether we were able to do so; for the morning had been dark, and we had fled with heedless haste, taking very little note of our direction. Our island retreat was at the distance of some seven or eight days journey ; and as we had travelled in the night, and not always in precisely the same direction, it would be no very easy matter to find our way back again. However, Thomas prided himself upon his woodmanship, and though he had not observed the course of our journey quite so closely as he could have wished, he still thought that he might succeed in finding the way back.

But his wounds were too recent, and he felt too weak, to think of starting off immediately. Besides it was already broad day-light ; and we had the best of reasons for travelling only by night. So we sought out a thicket in which we concealed ourselves till night-fall.

As the evening came on, Thomas declared that he felt much better and stronger; and we resolved to set out at once, on our return. In the first place however, we determined to make an attempt to find the camp of the preceding night, in hopes that some of our companions might have escaped as well as ourselves, and that by some good luck, we might chance to fall in with them.

After wandering about for some time, at length we found the camp. Two dead bodies, stiff and bloody, lay by the extinguished embers of the fire. They seemed to have been shot dead as they slept, and scarcely to have moved a limb. The bushes about were stained and spattered with blood; and by the moon light, we tracked the bloody flight of one of our luckless companions for a considerable distance. This must have been our sentinel, who had probably dropped asleep, and thus exposed us to be surprised.

Perhaps he might be lurking somewhere in the bushes, wounded and helpless. This thought emboldened us. We shouted and called aloud. But our voices echoed through