CHAPTER VIII--A RACE AGAINST TIME

Dark though it was, Jose led the way with complete confidence. But Will noticed that in a few minutes he left the heart of the wood and returned to the edge, where it bordered the plain. General Carabano's camp was now behind them.

"We might tread on a snake or stumble on a tiger, senor," said the boy. "It is not safe to go through the wood at night."

These were perils which had scarcely occurred to Will, but he recognized that the negro was right. Progress along the edge of the wood, however, was hardly easier than it had been in the wood itself, for long grass, bushes, and briars obstructed them at every few steps. After covering rather more than a mile, as Will guessed, it struck him that they would get along faster if they mounted the railway embankment and walked along the straight track. It was unlikely that pursuit would be carried far that night, since the direction of their flight could not be traced in the darkness. But there would be danger if the old camp was still occupied, or if any guards had been posted along the railway. He asked his companions whether they had any information on these points. Both assured him that the camp was deserted, and that no sentinels were posted on the railway, at any rate between their present position and the junction. Will remembered that the signalman at the junction was in the pay of General Carabano, so that the omission of what would otherwise have been an essential precaution was explicable.

The coast being clear, the travellers struck to the left, and came in ten minutes to the embankment.

"Creep up and look along the line," said Will to Azito. "You can see better in the dark than I."

The man returned after a few minutes and said that he saw the lights of the new camp twinkling among the trees, but nothing else was in sight in either direction. The rim of the moon which was just showing above the horizon would assist their march, but at the same time reveal their moving forms to any one who might be in the neighbourhood.

"Where are all the peons from the old camp?" asked Will.

"All run away, senor," replied Azito.

"We ran away too, senor," added Jose, "but came back to find our master."

"Have you had anything to eat lately, either of you?" asked Will, a thought striking him.

Jose had eaten nothing all the previous day; Azito nothing but some fruit he had picked in the garden of the house after nightfall.

"We must get some food to-morrow, or we shall be fit for nothing," said Will, "though I don't know where it is to come from."

They were now walking along the railway track, stepping from sleeper to sleeper. Every now and then they stopped to look behind, but though they could see farther as the moon rose, nothing was visible along the line. As they marched along in silence, Will thought over the conversation he had heard in the house. An attack was to be made on Bolivar at noon next day, from two quarters simultaneously. Machado's confederate in the telegraph office had invented a telegram from Caracas demanding the instant dispatch of reinforcements, so that the garrison at Bolivar would be much reduced, and the Jefe would be at a disadvantage. If Will could only get the hydroplane and bring it safely past the enemy, he would have time at least to warn the Jefe. The distance by water was about a hundred and sixty miles, thirty miles more than by rail; but General Carabano did not intend to start before eight o'clock, by which time, all being well, the hydroplane would be a considerable distance on the way to Bolivar. As soon as he got to Santa Marta, a little station twenty miles beyond the junction, he could telegraph a warning to the Jefe, the signalman being loyal. Everything depended on his reaching Santa Marta undetected.

They came at length to the site of the old camp. It was a picture of desolation. The tents had been removed to the new camp near the hacienda. A great quantity of debris was littered all over the enclosure. Tools, barrows, fragments of boxes that had been broken open; the Chief's safe, which, having been rifled, had been left standing as too cumbersome for removal: these relics of the raid filled Will with indignation. He had returned the knife to Azito, and being unarmed, he picked up a crowbar to serve as a weapon in case of emergency, and told Jose to do the same. Then, descending the embankment, all three hurried towards the river.

Just before they reached it, Will suddenly remembered that the supply of petrol on board was running short when he made his last trip. This was a very serious matter. There was no chance of his carrying out his plan without an adequate quantity of petrol. There had been plenty in a godown in the camp, it having been used for driving a small electric engine as well as the hydroplane. Had the cans been carried off with the other stores to the new camp? If so, the game was up. But Will hoped that the rebels had not thought them worth removing. The petrol would be of no use to an army in the field; they were not near a town where it might be turned into money: the chief danger was that Machado, who had clearly thought of making use of the hydroplane, would not have neglected to furnish himself with the necessary fuel. Will wished that he had thought of reassuring himself on this all-important point before leaving the camp; but being now so near the recess in which the hydroplane was laid up, he decided to make sure first that the vessel was still where he had left it.

Having come now into the wood, the natives were again afraid of encountering danger in the shape of reptiles or wild beasts. Fortunately Will had some matches in his pocket. He got Azito and Jose to collect some dry grass and twist it up into a couple of rough torches, and setting light to one of these they hurried to the bank above the recess. The wood was so thick and the enemy's camp so far away that there was no danger of the light being seen. Kindling the second torch, Will dropped the first into the water. The glare caused a great commotion among the inhabitants; he saw frogs hopping about in all directions, and eels darting away towards the river. At the further end of the recess, just beyond the stern of the hydroplane, a cayman slipped off the bank into the water and swam away. A cursory inspection of the vessel assured Will that it had not been tampered with. Relieved on this score, he determined to return at once to the old camp and make a search for the petrol.

They lighted their way back through the wood, but extinguished the torch before emerging into the open. Then, aided by the rays of the rising moon, they groped towards the godown, a temporary wooden hut, in which the petrol with other stores had been kept. Just in front of the door was a petrol can, which Will proved by shaking it to be half empty. Apparently the rebels had been examining the contents and left it as worthless to them. Within the hut stood two cans which had not been touched. All cause for anxiety was removed.

Will ordered the two men to carry the cans down to the hydroplane. On the Orinoco petrol was a commodity hard to come by, and though he would rather not have loaded his light craft with more than was immediately needed, he thought it advisable to take all that he had while there was opportunity. The cans were so heavy that only one could be carried at a time. When they came to the wood Will preceded the two men with a torch, at a safe distance. On his second return to the camp he sought everywhere in the hope of finding food; but all the useful stores had been removed, and he had to resign himself to the prospect of fasting until he reached Santa Marta.

It was three o'clock in the morning before Will had overhauled and oiled the machinery and got the hydroplane ready for starting. He had five hours before the train conveying General Carabano and his troops would leave, and since the hydroplane at full speed would travel faster than the train, he would have had no anxiety about reaching Santa Marta first if he could have gone at full speed all the way. But the distance to the junction was not only twenty miles farther by water than by rail: for the first seven or eight miles he would have to go very slowly, because it would be impossible to make pace in the darkness on the narrow, shallow stream that ran past the hacienda. There would be the danger of striking snags, and the further danger of the throbbing of the engine being heard in the camp. The second danger was so serious that Will decided to trust to the current alone until he was safely past the rebel army. As soon as he should come into the broader stream, which ran into the Orinoco near the railway junction, he might make full use of his motor; but the rate of the current was probably not more than three miles an hour, so that it might be full daylight before he emerged into the tributary. He would then be only about an hour and a half in advance of the train, a rather narrow margin when the windings of the stream were considered.

At last all was ready. Will had given careful instructions to his companions as to what they were to do. Jose would remain with him in the stern of the vessel; Azito was to stand as far forward as possible, holding a pole in readiness to fend off obstructions. While they were going slowly he could take up his position at the extreme forepart of the screen, but when it was necessary to make the vessel "plane"--that is, rise out of the water and skim along the surface, which was its special function--he would have to draw back, so that his weight should not interfere with the planing. Jose was to be ready to oil the engine whenever his master gave the word.

They went on board. Will poled the vessel out of the recess into the little stream, turned her head towards the hacienda, and let her float on the current. For hundreds of yards at a time she moved in inky darkness. The trees on both banks, growing far over the narrow channel, sometimes indeed meeting and forming a tunnel so low that Azito had to stoop, shut out all light of moon and stars. Now and then they came into a bright patch where a gap in the foliage let the moonlight through. At such points Will more than once saw the snout of a cayman; but there was no fear of molestation from any of the wild denizens of the stream: the passage of so strange a monster would imbue them with a wholesome terror.

As they floated slowly down, Will became possessed with a new anxiety. Would Machado suspect that he had got out the hydroplane and be on the watch for him where the canal entered the stream? If that should prove to be the case he might have to run the gauntlet of hundreds of rifles, with the smallest chance of getting through alive. Two considerations gave him hope that he might be spared this ordeal. In the first place, Machado could not know that he had overheard the conversation with General Carabano, and might suppose that his first move would be an attempt to release his friends. In the second place the Venezuelans are not early risers, and Machado would hardly expect to see the hydroplane before daylight. Of course, with a momentous expedition afoot, the Spanish sluggishness might be temporarily overcome: Will could only hope for the best. If he should be discovered, he determined to set the vessel going at full speed and take his chance.

There were already signs of dawn when the hydroplane came silently to the opening of the canal. The frogs had ceased to croak; but birds were piping in the trees. From the house, too, and the adjacent camp, came sounds of bustle. Preparations were evidently being made for the raid on Bolivar. Will looked round anxiously, half expecting to see, through the haze, hundreds of rifles pointed at him from the bank. But he passed the canal in safety; no one challenged him; and he felt a wonderful relief and hopefulness in the knowledge that the first of the expected dangers had turned out to be a chimera.

Day broke when the vessel had reached a spot about a mile below the hacienda. It was possible now to increase the speed by punting, and Will ordered Azito to employ his pole in this way. After another mile he ventured to set the motor going, at first at low speed, since he was still anxious that the sound of the engine should not be carried to the camp. If the train had started now, it would have reached a point where fifty men with rifles, posted on the bank of the stream, could have made the passage impossible. Will looked at his watch; he had still nearly an hour to spare, unless General Carabano had altered his plans.

In a few minutes he came into the stream which ran into the Orinoco nearly fifty miles beyond. Now with a sense of gladness and exhilaration he set the motor at full speed, at the same time ordering Azito to withdraw a few feet towards the stern. In a few seconds the forepart of the vessel lifted; it skimmed along the surface of the stream; and the banks began to whizz past at twenty, thirty, and presently forty miles an hour. At first Azito was somewhat scared at the pace, but after a few minutes he became possessed by the excitement of it, and behaved as if he had been born on a hydroplane. The task Will set him was to keep a good look-out ahead, and give warning by a gesture of either hand of any obstruction in the river, so that Will, who from his position in the stern could not see so well, might steer the vessel, and keep it going at a greater speed than would otherwise have been possible. Will felt that he was running very considerable risks, but speed was of the highest importance. If the train got ahead of him all would be lost: so he cheerfully took chances which he might have shrunk from at another time.

To steer the vessel demanded the utmost watchfulness from both Will and Azito. The river, though broad in parts, was narrow and tortuous at others, and was here and there intersected by rocks and islands, and snags in the shape of waterlogged trees. It was these latter that gave Will the most anxiety. But Azito, who like most Indians was expert in canoeing, and had keen eyesight and a perfect acquaintance with rivers, kept a sharp look-out and proved to have great judgment in detecting snags. With a movement of the right hand or the left he indicated to which side the hydroplane should be steered, and soon Will trusted his guidance implicitly, putting the helm to port or starboard in response to the slightest gesture. Once or twice also, when the rocks were numerous, Azito cried that it would be dangerous to go so fast, and Will immediately slowed down, loth though he was to lose a minute. The engine worked magnificently. The greatest danger to be feared was overheating; but thanks to the ventilators and Jose's constant attention in oiling, Will found that even after a good spell at full speed there was no sign of a breakdown.

For a long distance they were not in sight of the railway line, which followed a more direct course than the river, and, even when it approached it, was concealed by the thick vegetation on the banks. But they came at length to a more open stretch of country where the line ran for miles at an average distance of less than a quarter-mile from the stream. Here Will, slowing down a little, looked anxiously down the track. There was no sign of the train, which, if it started at the time arranged, was certainly due to pass within half-an-hour or less. Again the river wound away from the line, making a bend which involved probably an extra mile. When they again came in view of the track, Will could see along it for two or three miles; still there was no sign of the train.

For the next ten miles railway and river ran almost parallel; then the river passed under the bridge carrying the main railway line and joined the Orinoco. Here the branch line saved two or three miles. When the hydroplane came into the broad stream of the Orinoco Will kept as close as possible to the right bank. He was now able to steer a straighter course than on the tributary, and had no need to slacken speed on account of bends. Although he believed that he must be still considerably in advance of the train he kept up full speed for almost an hour more, and then arrived at a point where he could see the little station of Santa Marta nearly a mile away to his right. A narrow canal, just wide enough for the hydroplane, connected the station with the river. It was used for carrying goods to the railway, and had been found very serviceable by Mr. Jackson in his work on the branch line, some of his material having been brought up the river and landed there, thus saving the heavy port dues that would have been demanded in Bolivar itself.

Swinging round into the canal, Will saw that there was no barge either coming or going on it. If there had been, it would have been impossible to run the hydroplane to the station. In a few minutes he brought the vessel to the side of the little wharf below the railway line, and leaving it in charge of the two natives, hurried on by himself.