Chapter 28 - The Boy Slaves by Mayne Reid
A SUBAQUEOUS ASYLUM
As the gorge was of no great length, and the downward incline in their favor, they were not long in getting to its lower end, and out to the level plain that formed the sea-beach.
In their hurried traverse thither, it had not occurred to them to inquire for what purpose they were running towards the sea? There could be no chance of their escaping in that direction; nor did there appear to be much in any other, afoot as they were, and pursued by mounted men. The night was too clear to offer any opportunity of hiding themselves, especially in a country where there was neither "brake, brush, nor scaur" to conceal them. Go which way they would, or crouch wherever they might, they would be almost certain of being discovered by their lynx-eyed enemies.
There was but one way in which they might have stood a chance of getting clear, at least for a time. This was to have turned aside among the sand ridges, and by keeping along some of the lateral hollows, double back upon their pursuers. There were several such side hollows; for on going up the main ravine they had observed them, and also in coming down; but in their hurry to put space between themselves and their pursuers, they had overlooked this chance of concealment.
At best it was but slim, though it was the only one that offered. It only presented itself when it was too late for them to take advantage of it,—only after they had got clear out of the gully and stood upon the open level of the sea-beach, within less than two hundred yards of the sea itself. There they halted, partly to recover breath and partly to hold counsel as to their further course.
There was not much time for either; and as the three stood in a triangle with their faces turned towards each other, the moonlight shone upon lips and cheeks blanched with dismay.
It now occurred to them for the first time, and simultaneously, that there was no hope of their escaping, either by flight or concealment.
They were already some distance out upon the open plain, as conspicuous upon its surface of white sand as would have been three black crows in the middle of a field six inches under snow.
They saw that they had made a mistake. They should have stayed among the sand-ridges and sought shelter in some of the deep gullies that divided them. They bethought them of going back; but a moment's deliberation was sufficient to convince them that this was no longer practicable. There would not be time, scarce even to re-enter the ravine, before their pursuers would be upon them.
It was an instinct that had caused them to rush towards the sea—their habitual home, for which they had thoughtlessly sped—notwithstanding their late rude ejection from it. Now that they stood upon its shore, as if appealing to it for protection, it seemed still desirous of spurning them from its bosom, and leaving them without mercy to their merciless enemies!
A line of breakers trended parallel to the water's edge—scarce a cable's length from the shore, and not two hundred yards from the spot where they had come to a pause.
They were not very formidable breakers—only the tide rolling over a sand-bar, or a tiny reef of rocks. It was at best but a big surf, crested with occasional flakes of foam, and sweeping in successive swells against the smooth beach.
What was there in all this to fix the attention of the fugitives—for it had? The seething flood seemed only to hiss at their despair!
And yet almost on the instant after suspending their flight, they had turned their faces towards it—as if some object of interest had suddenly shown itself in the surf. Object there was none—nothing but the flakes of white froth and the black vitreous waves over which it was dancing.
It was not an object, but a purpose that was engaging their attention—a resolve that had suddenly sprung up within their minds—almost as suddenly to be carried into execution. After all, their old home was not to prove so inhospitable. It would provide them with a place of concealment!
The thought occurred to all three almost at the same instant of time; though Terence was the first to give speech to it.
"By Saint Patrick!" he exclaimed, "let's take to the wather! Them breakers'll give us a good hiding-place. I've hid before now in that same way, when taking a moonlight bath on the coast of owld Galway. I did it to scare my schoolfellows—by making believe I was drowned. What say ye to our trying it?"
His companions made no reply. They had scarce even waited for the wind-up of his harangue. Both had equally perceived the feasibility of the scheme; and yielding to a like impulse, all three started into a fresh run, with their faces turned towards the sea.
In less than a score of seconds, they had crossed the strip of strand; and in a similarly short space of time were plunging—thigh deep—through the water; still striding impetuously onward, as if they intended to wade across the Atlantic!
A few more strides, however, brought them to a stand—just inside the line of breakers—where the seething waters, settling down into a state of comparative tranquillity, presented a surface variegated with large clouts of floating froth.
Amidst this mottling of white and black, even under the bright moonlight, it would have been difficult for the keenest eye to have detected the head of a human being—supposing the body to have been kept carefully submerged; and under this confidence, the mids were not slow in submerging themselves.
Ducking down, till their chins touched the water, all three were soon as completely out of sight—to any eye looking from the shore—as if Neptune, pitying their forlorn condition, had stretched forth his trident with a bunch of seaweed upon its prongs, to screen and protect them.