ng their way as fast as the
darkness would allow, and it was not until all was once more quiet that
we could again breathe freely, and continue our journey as swiftly as we
could pass through the trees.

We had no difficulty in journeying to the right, and it soon became
evident that we were out of the rift; but I had very little hope of our
being able to continue in a straight line, seeking the direction where
we expected to find a river.

Our progress was necessarily slow, but every half mile, we all felt, was
that distance nearer to safety. I was hopeful, too, about our trail;
the dew fell heavily, and that and the elastic nature of the growth
through which we passed, would, I thought, possibly conceal our track
from those who might try to follow it.

And so we journeyed on through that thick darkness, till the first grey
dawn of day found us still hurrying through the dripping foliage, heavy
everywhere with the moisture deposited during the night.

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

ON THE RIVER'S BRINK.

"Now we can see what we're about, Mas'r Harry," said Tom cheerfully.
"Look, there's the first peep of where the sun's coming, and if we'd
been boxing the compass all night we couldn't have been trundling more
south-easter than we are. Hooroar, Miss Lilla, keep up your sperrits,
and we shall soon be all right."

Lilla smiled a response, and, cheered by the bright day, we made good
progress during the next two hours before the mules began to flag, when,
letting them graze, we made a short and hasty meal ourselves, each eye
scanning the forest round for enemies, such as we knew might spring up
at any moment.

An hour's rest taken of necessity, and then we were once more journeying
on, hopeful that we might soon strike upon one of the tributaries of the
great stream fed by the eternal snow of the mountains; but hours went
by, and no sign of river appeared, till suddenly, Tom, who was in
advance, said softly:

"Here's water somewhere, not far off, Mas'r Landell, for my mule's
cocking his nose up, and sniffing at a fine rate."

There was no doubt of its being the case, for no sooner had Tom's beast
given evidence of its power of scent, than similar manifestations
followed from the others; and now, instead of nagging and labouring
along, the hot and wearied beasts broke into a trot, and had to be
restrained as they tugged at the bridles.

The character of the undergrowth now, too, began to indicate moisture,
and t