"Pull in now," she whispered tensely, and, with a little further
effort, they found that the boat was traveling not against but with the
tide, which was flooding a small offshoot of the main estuary.
Precaution became not only useless but impossible. They were all worn
out. Nothing but the most inflexible determination on the part of
Elsie and Gray, eked out by a certain desponding fear of both of them
felt by Suarez, had sustained them thus far. They went on, and on;
they swept rapidly into the jaws of a precipitous defile, the lofty
crests on either hand coming momentarily nearer against the brightening
sky. It did not seem credible that this sheer cut through the heart of
a gigantic hill could continue for more than a few yards, nor that
anything save a bird could find foothold on its steep sides. Yet the
current flowed smoothly onwards, through a wealth of vegetation which
clung precariously to every ledge and natural escarpment.
Joey, embarrassed by his gag, nevertheless managed to emit a warning
growl. Then the boat crashed into a canoe, and a hoarse yell of alarm
came from beneath the lowermost trees, whose dense foliage flung a pall
over the water. Gray was seized with an inspiration. He grasped the
canoe as it bumped along the gunwale, and held it down on one side
until it filled and sank. He sent another, and yet a third, guzzling
to the bottom before the outburst of raucous cries from both banks
showed there were Indians here in some force.
Stones, too, began to hum around them; some struck the boat, but the
greater number whizzed unpleasantly close to the heads of the two men
and the girl, proving conclusively that they were visible to the unseen
enemy. Gray whipped forth the revolver and fired twice. The second
time a shriek of pain told that he had hit one of their assailants.
The two reports made a deafening din in that place of echoes. They
appeared to stir the Indians into a perfect frenzy, and it was evident,
by the sounds, that the islanders had not much liberty of movement on
the narrow strips of land they occupied on both sides of the gorge.
Elsie caught some significant splashing behind her.
"They are swimming towards the canoes," she screamed.
Telling Suarez to pull for all he was worth, Gray, clambered to the
stern of the boat and emptied the revolver at what he took to be the
black heads of the swimmers.
"Quick! Load it again," he said, and Elsie obeyed with a nimbleness
and certainty that were amazing.
The American fired three more shots before he was satisfied that the
canoes were untenanted and not cut adrift. They were now leaving the
pandemonium behind, and Elsie, bethinking herself of the dog, freed him
from that most objectionable muzzle. Joey forthwith awoke the welkin
with his uproar, but, although the girl strained her ears for some
answering hail, she could detect nothing beyond the bawling of Indians
at each other across the narrow creek, and the repeated echoes of the
dog's barking.