Away they went at once, Me Dain leading the way, with Jack and his father close behind. The Burman dodged round the corner of the hut, and struck at once into a hard well-trodden path which was at once swallowed up in the thick shade of a close-set grove of bamboos. It was a path leading to a paG.o.da much frequented by the villagers, and would show no sign by which they might be tracked on the morrow. Me Dain had made himself familiar with the ins and outs of the place, and he marched forward with a swift and a.s.sured step. Luckily, the hut stood right on the outskirts of the village, and in a few moments they were out of sight of any house, and when they turned aside from the path to the paG.o.da they soon left behind all sign of human presence.

As they crossed a little clearing, Jack thought he heard a soft footfall in their rear. He turned, and saw, to his surprise, that the native woman was a short distance behind them, with her child in her arms.

"Why," said Jack, "the woman of the hut is following us."

"Yes," replied Me Dain. "She must come, sahib. If U Saw catch her, he burn her alive for hiding you."

"Likely enough, the unspeakable brute," murmured Mr. Haydon. "We must put the poor woman in a place of safety, Me Dain. We owe her a great deal."

"She not want to stop in that place, anyhow, sahib," replied the Burman. "She belong to a village over the hills. She want to go back, now her husband is dead."

"Oh, very good," said Mr. Haydon. "We'll put her right if we have the chance."

"Yes, yes," said Jack. "She's been a good staunch friend to us, the same as you, Me Dain."

"Very true, Jack," said Mr. Haydon.

CHAPTER x.x.xV.

THE FLIGHT FROM THE VALLEY.

They now went a couple of miles in silence, keeping a sharp look-out on every hand. But they gained the foot of the hills which encircled the valley without seeing or hearing anything which might promise danger.

With Me Dain still in the van, they climbed steadily up a steep slope and over a rocky saddle between two peaks which lifted sharp points against the starry sky.

As they gained the saddle, Jack whispered sharply: "Stop, Me Dain, what's this? I smell something."

"Me too," said the Burman, snuffing cautiously. "There is a fire somewhere ahead."

"A fire," said Mr. Haydon. "We must take care. Who have lighted it, and what are they doing in a lonely spot like this?"

A dozen steps again and the questions were answered. They cleared a little ridge and saw, two or three hundred yards ahead, a great glowing patch of red where a big fire blazed up, and figures moved to and fro about it.

"A watch-fire," said Jack. "We'd better dodge back. Luckily they're up wind."

The fugitives retreated until the fire was hidden from their view by a great rock, then put their heads closely together to whisper to each other.

"Watchmen," said Me Dain; "they are watchmen keeping guard over the path which runs out of the valley towards the hills."

"Then those cunning villains have set a watch over every road,"

murmured Mr. Haydon. "Do you know of any way to get out without following a path, Me Dain, any way by which we can clamber over the hills?"

"No, sahib, I do not," replied the Burman; "but here is the woman who has lived ten years in the valley. I will ask her."

For a couple of minutes Me Dain and the native woman held a whispered conversation, then the Burman breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"She can take us out of the valley, sahibs. She can lead us by a way, very rough and hard to follow, but very little used, where they would not trouble to set a guard. But we cannot follow it in the darkness.

She will take us to the mouth of the pa.s.s, and there we must wait for daylight."

"Good, good," said Jack in a cheerful whisper, "we'll dodge these fellows after all. What luck that the woman marched with us!"

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a fierce yelping and snarling broke out not forty yards away, and the sound swiftly approached them.

"Confound it all, a dog, a dog!" growled Mr. Haydon.

In another instant the animal was leaping and bounding within two or three yards of them, snarling savagely, and then making the hill-side ring with its piercing barks. It belonged to one of the guards, and had been prowling about in search of food when it caught the scent of the fugitives.

"This way, this way, sahibs," cried Me Dain in low, eager tones.

"Quick, quick, the men sure to come to see why the dog make a noise."

"Sure to, for a certainty," groaned Mr. Haydon. "Well, we must run for it."

Away they hurried as fast as the darkness would permit, and the wretched cur hung on their heels, yelping and barking without pause, and thus guiding the guards straight to their prey.

"We must stop this brute's mouth or we are utterly done for," said Jack. At that instant he stumbled over a large stone. He bent, picked it up, and turned round. Four or five yards behind them, and plainly to be marked by its eyes shining green in the darkness, was the dog, which, by its mere power of drawing enemies upon them, was, at the moment, the most terrible enemy of all.

For a second Jack hung on his aim, the heavy stone poised high in his right hand. Then he hurled it with all his force. Crash! He heard the missile strike the brute with a heavy thud. The dog gave one last frightful yelp of pain, then dropped and lay silent Whether the beast was dead or only stunned Jack did not know, nor did he care. He knew that he had silenced the miserable cur, and that was all he wished.

Enough harm had been done already. A bunch of dancing lights now shot into view, and he saw them borne swiftly on. The watchmen, carrying torches, were running to the spot where the dog had given the alarm.

Jack now caught up his friends with a few swift strides, and all the party hurried on, the woman leading the way and guiding them.

"Well done, Jack," murmured his father. "Well done, my lad. If you hadn't put a stop to that brute's yelping, he'd have brought those fellows on us as straight as they could run. Now they've got to look for us in the dark, and that's a very different affair."

"Do you think they'll pick up our trail from the spot where they find the dog?" asked Jack.

"Oh, no," said Mr. Haydon, "not easily. The ground is hard, and running a line by torchlight is a very different thing from running it by daylight. I hope to goodness we can make good headway before the dawn, for with the first peep of day they'll be after us as fast as they can lay foot to ground."

At this moment both looked back and saw the plump of torches come to a stand. The watchmen had reached the spot where Jack had struck down the dog, and, through the silence of the night, the eager, excited voices of the Kachins could plainly be heard as they debated hotly about the dog's fate, and what it meant.

Then the bunch of lights scattered and began to flicker here and there. The guards were looking for the trail of those who had struck down the dog. On and on ran the fugitives, and soon Jack saw that his father had been right about the difficulties of tracking by torchlight. The points of fire behind them became more and more scattered, and not one came on or followed them. Then they turned the shoulder of a hill, and all was darkness and silence once more.

It wanted an hour of daylight when they came to the mouth of the pa.s.s by which they were to escape through the ring of hills which encircled the valley.

"Must wait now," said Me Dain. "She say no man can go through the pa.s.s unless he can see the way."

"Are we to lose time, Me Dain?" said Jack. "Can't we creep on slowly and make a little headway?"

The Burman talked again to the woman, but she was most emphatic in declaring that nothing could be done until the day broke; so they crouched in silence under lee of a great boulder until the first faint bars of light began to show in the east.

As soon as it was possible to see a yard or so before them the march began. The woman led the way, with her sleeping child in her arms, Me Dain followed her closely, and Jack and his father brought up the rear.

They soon saw why daylight had been needed for the task of escaping from the valley by this road. Their way lay through a narrow pa.s.s which ran through a deep cleft of the mountains, a cleft which seemed as though it had been carved out by a blow of a t.i.tanic axe. There was scarcely a yard of the narrow path upon which a step could be taken smoothly and easily. For ages upon ages the forces of nature had been tearing huge boulders and slices of rock from the frowning heights above, and toppling them into this crevice between the mountains. Thus the way was littered with huge stones, over which they climbed, between which they threaded their way, down which they often slid and scrambled as best they could.

For some hours they toiled steadily along this wild, rocky gorge, then a halt was called to rest and breathe. The native woman, a lithe, nimble creature, was as little discomposed by the hard, rough march as any of them, although she carried her child, nor would she allow anyone to help her with her burden.