I scrambled along, edging up toward the top of the bank, and when I got there I started to run along on the level ground. I couldn’t run very fast on account of the underbrush and because every little ways the rain had washed out gullies that I had to go around or jump over. I followed the shore of the river, keeping my eyes peeled all the time for a sight of Batten and Bill. There were so many trees between me and the water that I couldn’t see far; but I could watch the shore-line, as I went along, to discover if they had landed. After I got around the bend I went more carefully, for I wasn’t a bit anxious to have them know I was spying on them. I kept behind the clumps of sumach and suchlike shrubs that grew all along the hillside, wherever it was possible; and when it wasn’t I went back a few yards from the top of the slope, where I couldn’t be seen by anybody standing at the water’s edge.
It seemed I must have caught up with the boat if they hadn’t rowed faster than a horse can gallop, so I crept up back of a clump of bushes and looked down. I couldn’t see a thing. Nobody was in sight, and the woods were as still and calm-like as could be. There are places along the shore that look as if folks had never been there, and this was one of them. Cat-tails and reeds grew out into the river from the bank, and hazel and sumach and elderberry bushes filled in thick between the big trees. It wasn’t a swampy place exactly, though it was pretty soft and squashy in the spring when the water was high, but it looked marshy.
Where the boat had gone I couldn’t figure out, for from where I was now I could see a quarter of a mile down the river and quite a ways up and down the shore. The only live thing anywhere around was a red-headed woodpecker that propped himself up against the side of a butternut tree and pecked away like he was paid to do it by the hour.
“Huh,” says I to myself, “that’s funny.” I sat there scratching my head awhile, and then made up my mind to slide down the back to explore closer. It was steep there, almost dead up and down, but there were bushes and things to hang on to, so I didn’t think anything about it at all, but just turned around and started down crab-fashion, feet first and with my face toward the ground. Probably I was a quarter of the way down when I stepped on a loose bit of earth which went slipping out from under me. I grabbed out at a wild-rose bush, prickers and all, but missed, and went pell-mell, head over heels, down to the bottom, tearing chunks out of my clothes and scuffing off patches of skin.
When I landed bump at the bottom I lay still a minute to find out if I was busted any place; but there wasn’t anything wrong outside of scratches and bruises, so I sat up and looked to see just where I’d fetched up. I saw all right. Not more than six feet away from me were Batten and Bill a-grinning at me like a pair of Cheshire cats.
“Good morning,” says Batten, polite-like. “You come down a little sudden, didn’t you?”
I was so startled and mad I didn’t answer a word. I’d made a pretty mess of things for sure, coming tumbling right down into Batten’s arms that way. All they would have to do was just step up and grab me. That would mean that Mark would be left all alone to guard the cave, and it wouldn’t be any job at all for Batten and Bill to get him. They would just have to divide and come at him from different ways. If one man came uphill from below and another came down at the cave from above, what chance would Mark have? Not a bit.
I couldn’t even give him warning, for it was too far to holler. I felt pretty mean, I can tell you. I was a nice kind of a scout to send out, wasn’t I? To go sprawling right into the enemy’s hands the first thing!
Bill was laughing so he had to lean up against a tree, and Batten was standing about six feet off and grinning as mean as could be. It was evident they thought they had me safe, and I thought so, too; but nobody ever did anything without trying first. I couldn’t be any worse off if I tried to get away, and I might make a go of it if I was quick. I didn’t think about it more than a second, but rolled over and over a couple of times, leaped to my feet, and went a-kiting upstream toward the cave.
Batten let out a surprised yell and came jumping after me, with Bill right behind him, sort of barking at every step he took. I had started off so quick, and it took them so all of a sudden, that I got a lead of most twenty feet, which wasn’t enough by any manner of means. Two hundred would have suited me better.
I couldn’t climb the hill, the river headed me off on the other side, and so there was only one way for me to go, and that was right along the edge of the water. It was the best way, anyhow, because it was clearer of underbrush and shrubs. I stood a chance of beating them in a clear space, but they could push their way through bushes faster than I because they were stronger. I put my head down and ran.
Back of me I heard Batten and Bill floundering and plunging. They didn’t yell after the start—saving their breath, I guess—but just kept after me as fast as they could come. I didn’t know whether they were gaining or not; and I didn’t dare turn my head to see, for fear of tripping over something. It was pretty certain I couldn’t get to Mark, for that would mean climbing the hill, but I might tire the men out by running on straight ahead. Anyhow, if they didn’t catch me too soon I could get close enough to the cave to yell and warn Mark, and that was the chief thing to think about. “He mustn’t be taken by surprise! He mustn’t be taken by surprise!” I kept saying to myself over and over again.
Another hundred feet, and I would be around the bend of the river, where my voice would carry to the cave; and I made up my mind I’d get that far if I had to blow up and bust for it. I was getting tired, and my lungs hurt, and my heart was going as if it said, “Choke, choke, choke,” but I let out another notch and went faster than before. It was just a final spurt. A fellow always has that left in him, that last spurt. I never could understand it; no matter how fast you’re going, it seems as if you could go a little bit faster just at the last if it is necessary.
I was around the point now, and, sitting in front of the cave, I could see Mark Tidd, looking like a big fat statue. He was as still as if he had been a stone.
“Mark!” I screeched. “Look out, Mark! They’re after me!”
The next thing I heard was somebody smashing and sprawling onto the ground behind me. Either Batten or Bill had tripped—I don’t know which. That left only one man chasing me, and, somehow, it made my breath come freer and my legs work easier. Maybe it was what I’ve heard folks call “second wind.” At any rate, I kept on and on, until pretty soon the noise behind me got farther away and at last stopped. But I didn’t stop. Not a bit of it. There would be no stopping for me until I’d got a lot more distance between me and those men than there was now.
As soon as I thought I was safe I turned off to the left and scrambled up the hill. You can believe I was careful now. I crawled almost every foot of the way when I started circling back to Mark, but I got there at last. It seemed like a long time; but most likely it wasn’t more than fifteen or twenty minutes after Batten and Bill quit chasing me when I peeked over the brow of the hill down onto the cave. I lay there quiet, not making a sound, because it came into my head I might be more useful as a surprise party than if I went right down to reinforce Mark. So I scrambled around and filled my pockets with pebbles, to be ready when I was needed.
Batten and Bill sat down by the edge of the river getting back their breath. As soon as they were rested again they got onto their feet and started up-hill like they meant business. Mark stood up and took his sling-shot in his hand; and I tell you I was proud of him, the way he made ready to fight all alone without a soul he knew of to help him.
Before they came to the clearing............