They were moving with care when they heard a sudden yell ahead. It was Slavin calling to his horse.
"Back up!" they heard him cry. "Back, hang ye! De ye want ter pitch me in a hole?" And then followed a savage muttering they could not make out.
"We've got him!" cried Watson. "Come—but be careful, be careful."
"I'm going to dismount," said Allen, and did so and led his steed forward along the trail which the rain had made slippery and treacherous.
Watson likewise got down and they now had to wait for another flash of lightning to show them just where they were. As the flash came Allen gave a look ahead.
"Well, I never!" he ejaculated.
"Wot did ye see? came quickly from the old hunter.
"Slavin has tumbled down and the horse with him."
"Then we've got the rascal sure!"
They plunged forward again. The trail was narrower than ever and the gully, or hollow, was on one side, and a fringe of mountain brush on the other.
