Читать книгу The Jungle Fugitives - Edward S. Ellis - Страница 6

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The success of the first shot gave Jack Everson self-confidence and he took less time in aiming the second, which was as unerring as the first. Another Ghoojur plunged off his horse and gave but a single struggle when he sank from sight in the shallow water.

“Another bull’s-eye!” called Jack, proceeding to reload his piece. “I hope, doctor, you are keeping a correct score; I must have credit for all I do.”

“Now for my distinguished friend on the milk-white steed,” said Jack, proceeding to adjust his telescopic sight to that individual. “If they will send over the three horses it will give us one apiece.”

But the Ghoojurs had had enough of this fearful business. They saw that some unaccountable fatality was at work and it was madness for them to remain. With never a suspicion of the truth they wheeled their animals about and sent them galloping for the bank which they had left a short time before full of hope and anticipation.

“I’m sorry for that,” reflected Jack Everson, “for it mixes things and I can’t pick out my man, but here goes.”

In one sense, his opportunity was better than before; for, while he could not select his particular target, he had but to aim at the bunch to make sure of hitting somebody, which is precisely what he did.

The Ghoojur whom he punctured did not fall, for the reason that two of his friends reached out and prevented him. It was a piece of supererogation on their part, for when the party emerged from the Ganges upon dry land that fellow was of no further account.

Jack now showed more haste than before in reloading his weapon, fearing that the party would get beyond his reach before he could fire for the fourth time. Much to his regret, they did so, for though he made the shot, it was necessarily so hurried that it inflicted no injury, and the whole party galloped out of sight over the slight swell without showing any further concern for their companions left behind. Jack now rose to his feet with the question:

“What is my record, doctor?”

“Three bull’s-eyes; your score is perfect.”

“Hardly, for the last was a miss; however, three out of a possible four is pretty fair when the circumstances are considered. I suspect that that particular party is not likely to give us further trouble.”

“No, they will not forget the lesson.”

“If we can induce our enemies to make their approach by the same ford and when the sun is shining this will become truly amusing.”

“But the Ghoojurs will not repeat that mistake. This affair has served another purpose,” added the physician, “we must not delay our departure.”

“Do you advise our going while it is night?”

“I advised the contrary a little while ago, but I confess I am afraid to stay in the house, even for a few hours. However, we will take our dinner there, gather a few belongings and then hurry off. We shall find some spot where it will be safe to pass the night, and where we are not likely to be molested, because no one will know where to find us.”

All glanced in the direction of the other shore, and seeing nothing to cause misgiving moved to the house, a low, roomy structure, though of moderate proportions, with a broad veranda extending along two sides. It was time for the evening meal, and there was some surprise felt that Mustad, the servant, had not summoned them before.

This surprise turned to astonishment and alarm when it was discovered that Mustad was not in the house. No preparation had been made for dinner, and though his name was called several times in a loud voice, there was no response.

“He has left us,” said the doctor.

“What does it mean?” asked Mary.

“It can have but one meaning: by some legerdemain, such as our own Indians show in telegraphing news from one mountain top to another, word has reached Mustad of what has taken place, and he has been called upon to join the faithful, and has been only too glad to do it.”

“I should think he would have attempted to do us harm before going.”

“He is too great a coward.”

“But his fanaticism will make him reckless.”

“When he gets among his friends then he will be among the worst.”

“But, father, he was always meek and gentle and respectful.”

“Those are the kind who become directly the opposite.”

“Do you think he would harm us?”

“I have no doubt of it,” was the reply of the doctor. “I know the breed; I have twice been the means of saving his life through my medicines, and Mary nursed him for three weeks when he was suffering from a fever.”

“Yon may be doing him an injustice,” ventured Jack Everson, to whom the judgment of his friend seemed bitter.

“I wish I could think so, but, Mary, if you can provide us with something in the way of food, Mr. Everson and I will get the things together that we are to take with us.”

Dr. Marlowe wisely decided not to burden themselves with unnecessary luggage. Jack took from his trunk a few needed articles and stowed them into a travelling bag whose supporting strap could be flung over one shoulder. Though a physician himself, admitted to practice, he had brought none of his instruments with him, for the good reason that he saw no sense in doing so. Into the somewhat larger bag of the elder doctor were placed his most delicate instruments and several medical preparations, mostly the results of his experiments. They were too precious to be lost if there was any way of preserving them. Mary packed her articles in a small travelling bag, the strap of which she, too, flung over her shoulder, though Jack asked to be allowed to relieve her.

It was after the hurried meal had been eaten by lamplight that the three completed their preparations for departure. That to which they paid the most attention was their means of defense. Jack Everson had brought a plentiful supply of cartridges for his superb breechloader; and the belt was already secured around his body. Dr. Marlowe never allowed his supply of ammunition to run low, so that the two were well supplied in that respect.

Jack was pleased to find that the revolver belonging to Mary Marlowe was of the same calibre as his own, so that the cartridges could be used indiscriminately.

“I remember,” he said to her, when the parent was just beyond hearing, “that you were quite skillful with your weapon.”

“Not specially so, but what skill I gained is due to your tuition.”

“Not so much to that as to the aptness of the pupil.”

“Your remark is more gallant than true, but I hope I shall not be called upon to use this weapon as you used yours awhile ago.”

“Such is my prayer, but if the necessity arises do not hesitate.”

“Be assured I shall not,” she replied, with a flash of her fine eyes and a compression of her lips.