CHAPTER VI.
When the stallion started forward on his mad gallop, he pointed once more for the narrow gorge, from which he had already been turned by the presence of Calificura and Lenketrou. But those Indians, no sooner had they seen their fellows come to close quarters with the baguales, had galloped forward to take part in the fray, and themselves secure, if possible, a prize each, leaving the gorge for the nonce unguarded.
With his head thrown back and his tail furiously lashing his sides, the stallion held on his way. Although Topsie clung to the lasso like grim death, and kept it as tight as possible, it seemed to have very little effect in checking the animal’s speed. His blood was up, and he evidently meant fighting it out to the bitter end.
His quick eye had swept the gorge, and ascertained that the pass was clear, and for this outlet, therefore, he made as straight as a die. In a few minutes it was reached, entered, and traversed at the same headlong pace, and the hunter and hunted passed out of sightof the circular plain where the Indians and the others were engaged with the baguales.
And now Topsie was able to gauge for the first time the enormity of the task which she had set herself to accomplish. It was perfectly clear that the wild horse had no intention of giving in, and that his powers of endurance were unlimited. Then, too, the country they had entered was rough and hillocky, and some five or six miles ahead a dense, impenetrable forest appeared to intervene and to bar all further progress. It would be extremely awkward if the stallion took to the woods at this headlong pace, and nothing she could do, could apparently induce him to alter his course in any way.
As they galloped along, Topsie had an opportunity of testing the speed and stamina of the horse which she bestrode. Putting spurs to it, she endeavoured to get it to race up close alongside the wild one, when she thought by luck she might be able to put a bullet from her revolver through the sensitive part of his crest, and so bring him to the ground and stun him, in the same way as she had done to the two baguales, which she and Harry had captured at the outset of their wanderings in Patagonia two years before. Her horse was a game one and a good one, and he made a brave effort to obey his rider’s wishes. Gradually he crept up alongside the angry bagual, and Topsie, drawing her revolver, took as careful an aim as possible, and fired.
But the pace at which they were going made it impossible to fire true. The bullet just grazed thestallion’s crest, terrifying him more than ever, and infusing into him a new strength and an accelerated speed.
Thus they flew along. The thick forest ahead was growing nearer and nearer, and the position was becoming perilous in the extreme; so perilous indeed, that much as she hated doing so, Topsie was perforce obliged to acknowledge herself beaten, and to make up her mind to cast the stallion loose, and give up the struggle as hopeless.
But when she came to slacken and cast off the lasso, she found that the knot had become so tight in consequence of the enormous strain put upon it, that she was utterly unable to free the saddle from the line that now held her horse coupled to the wild one. What was she to do? The pace at which they were going was breakneck, and yet she had but two choices before her. One was to stick to her horse, and take her chance of being dashed to pieces as they entered the forest; the other was to throw herself off the animal. This latter alternative probably meant death, or a multiplicity of broken bones. She chose the former.
Grasping the lasso with both hands, she endeavoured, by a supreme effort, to draw the noose so tightly round the stallion’s neck as to choke him; but the running loop refused to do its work, and the wild horse went faster than ever.
I wonder what poor Shag thought of it all? He was straining his utmost to keep up with the racing animals, by no means an easy task, for Shag was a big,heavy dog, and not bred for racing. However, he did his best, and with his great red tongue lolling out of his mouth, struggled along.
They were within about two hundred yards of the forest, and Topsie had slipped her feet out of the stirrups, so as to be free for a spill, when a loud neigh sounded ahead. To this the stallion replied briskly, though chokingly; for the heavy strain on his neck was beginning to tell, and he was decidedly short of wind. The next moment a troop of wild horses swept into the open from a nook in the forest, where they had been seeking shelter from the hot sun, and stood staring wildly ahead. What they saw probably produced terrifying effects, for with loud neighs, screams, and whinnyings, they wheeled about and fled precipitately towards the forest, into which they quickly penetrated, and became lost to view.
Buoyed up with hope at the sight of his fellows, the stallion put on a tremendous spurt. After this everything was confused in Topsie’s memory. She had a faint recollection of entering the forest, then of hearing a loud crack, after that a crash and a bang, a whizzing in the brain, and then no more.
When her senses returned her first feeling was that of movement. She seemed to be carried along in some one’s arms; but she felt too weak and knocked about to open her eyes, and indeed, feeling was all too confused and transitory to enable her to realise where she was or what had happened.
She must have swooned again, and some time elapsed between her first awakening and her second;for when she came to once more, she found herself lying on a soft bed of leaves, beneath a green canopy of interwoven branches, which sheltered her from the hot rays of the sun. Her first impulse was to call Shag, and to put out her hand to feel for him. As she did so, it came in contact with a soft, hairy skin; but Topsie had enough consciousness to know, that what she touched was not the rough Labrador coat of her faithful dog, nor had Shag, in response to her call, come near her.
What then could this soft hair be? It was warm, and apparently belonged to some living creature.
With an effort Topsie turned her head to look. Then she gave a terrified cry, and attempted to spring to her feet, but a strong arm restrained her, an arm in which both gentleness and herculean strength appeared to be blended; for though it resisted and repelled her attempt to rise, its grasp was neither rough nor brutal. What was it that drew from the naturally plucky girl, this cry of terror? What was it whose grasp was strong yet tender? A tall hairy man was bending over her, a man or huge ape, or monster baboon. Topsie could not make out what the apparition was as she scanned it with creeping horror, but it looked to her more like a human being than a monkey. Yet such a curious human being. As Topsie, bravely submitting to circumstances, took stock of her strange captor, she noticed that his face was hairy all over, and, unlike the ape, showed no sign of bare skin anywhere. The hair was of a lightish brown, which became darker on the head, where it was slightly longer, and somewhatcurly. The hair upon the neck and arms, like the face, was much lighter, as was also that on the chest and back. But what inclined Topsie more than ever to the belief that this strange being was human, was the short kilt or narrow skirt of skins which he wore round his loins, and which reached almost to his knees. Just below the knees, and sinking deep into the hair of his legs, glittered two golden rings, the same adorning his ankles and arms. Then his aspect was not savage, nor was his head formed after the hideous appearance of the ape, gorilla, or baboon. It was a perfectly human face, one, that if it had been white-skinned, would have been called handsome, while the eyes were dark with just a snatch of blue, which showed itself from time to time. But the lips of this extraordinary man were quite black, and there was not a tinge of red of any kind in them.
“Who are you?” Topsie found courage to say when she found that her captor apparently meditated no harm to her. “Speak, and tell me who you are.”
But the hairy man made no reply; not even a guttural sound escaped him.
What was she to do? Where on earth was she? Was it all a dream? Could it possibly be real? Over and over again the girl put these questions anxiously to herself, without being able to give to them any intelligible reply. Then gradually the recollection of the wild horse hunt came back to her, her tussle with the stallion, and the mad gallop across the plain.
Where then was Shag? Surely under no circumstances would the faithful dog have left her, unless hehad been killed, or unless—and here Topsie’s heart throbbed with hope—he had returned to fetch her uncles, brother, cousins, Aniwee, and the other hunters to the rescue. She lay back and closed her eyes, and tried to realise the situation. She could not recall being knocked from her horse, and yet she clearly must have been, and struck senseless. She could feel that her rifle was gone, though the cartridge belt was still slung around her shoulders; and when her hand sought her side, she found that her revolver pouch was empty, though her knife remained in its sheath.
Remaining very quiet for a time, she heard the silent creature by her side move gently away, and then surreptitiously unclosing her eyes, she sought to make out his movements.
He was standing with his back to her, leaning against a tall tree around which his right arm was thrown, and in his left hand Topsie made out that he held a light bow and a pair of beautifully fashioned arrows tipped with gold. And in looking she perceived that she was no longer on a plain, but high up a mountain side, and beneath her was a deep, precipitous gorge, and across it ranges of wooded heights, which rose one above the other, until they came in contact with the snow line of the glittering Andes.
“I must have been a long time insensible, and he must have carried me a great distance,” moaned poor Topsie to herself, as the horror of her position gradually forced itself upon her. And if her surmise was correct, she reflected with all the more despair, that if Shag was alive, he would not be able to trace her. In spiteof herself, Topsie groaned aloud. In a moment the hairy man had turned and fixed his dark eyes upon her. Topsie could not help observing that they were beautiful eyes, with all the lustre and softness of the gazelle. He had evidently no intention of harming her; he was clearly no cannibal. On the contrary, he seemed tenderly solicitous for her safety and comfort. At least it so seemed, for he came over to her side and offered her a large rosy-cheeked apple, which he had apparently but lately plucked from a tree which grew near, and which was loaded with them.
Being terribly thirsty, and not a little hungry, the girl gratefully accepted the proffered fruit, and pressed it to her hot lips. It was deliciously cool and juicy, and proved exceedingly refreshing. Nevertheless, it did not altogether appease her thirst, and she looked about her to see if she could detect any evidence of water in any direction.
Failing in her eye quest, she felt that she must appeal to her strange companion. Half closing her hand, she laid it on the ground, and made signs as if she was ladling water to her mouth from an imaginary stream.
In a moment the silent, hairy man seemed to understand her, for he bent over her, lifted her in his arms as though she had been a feather, and strode through the forest at a quick, swinging pace. In a short time the sound of running water struck on Topsie’s ears, and a few minutes later they passed into a sort of natural glade, across whose path foamed and tossed a sparkling mountain torrent. At the sight of the waterTopsie struggled to get free; but again she felt herself held tight by the same herculean strength which had restrained her on a former occasion. Her captor evidently feared that she would attempt to escape.
“Let me go, let me go!” cried poor Topsie, struggling vainly in his powerful grasp, and then, as the hopelessness of her position rushed through her mind, she burst into a passionate flood of tears.
In an instant the strange creature let go his hold, and stared at her with a piteous, deprecating expression. Then he put up both his hands to his eyes, as though to shut out from them the picture of her grief. Next he stroked her head, and gave vent to the first sound she had heard him utter, a sort of purring noise, like the purring of a big cat, and lastly, he took her by the hand and led her to the water’s edge, and then let it go.
In spite of her misery, Topsie could not resist the tempting sight of the cool stream. She threw herself face downwards, and took a long deep draught. When she rose up the tears still stood in her eyes, but her sobs were hushed.
This appeared to give the hairy man great pleasure, for he opened his lips and smiled, showing two rows of well-formed, even, and very white teeth, distinctly human in appearance. At the same time a low, soft cry broke forth close at hand, and looking round in the direction whence it came, Topsie found herself face to face with two more hairy beings.