Men were somewhere
ahead of us in the gloom.
Shalah ran the sloop into a little creek so overgrown with vines that
we had to lie flat on the thwarts to enter. Then, putting his mouth to
my ear, he spoke for the first time since we had left James Town. "It
is hard to approach the Master, and my brother must follow me close as
the panther follows the deer. Where Shalah puts his foot let my brother
put his also. Come."
He stepped from the boat to the hill-side, and with incredible speed
and stillness began to ascend. His long, soft strides were made without
noise or effort, whether the ground were moss, or a tangle of vines, or
loose stones, or the trunks of fallen trees, I had prided myself on my
hill-craft, but beside the Indian I was a blundering child, I might
have made shift to travel as fast, but it was the silence of his
progress that staggered me, I plunged, and slipped, and sprawled, and
my heart was bursting before the ascent ceased, and we stole to the
left along the hill shoulder.
Presently came a gap in the trees, and I looked down in the last
greyness of dusk on a strange and beautiful sight. The channel led to a
landlocked pool, maybe a mile around, and this was as full of shipping
as a town's harbour.
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