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soon as they had recovered somewhat from the exertions of their flight, the two young sailors listened with strained ears for some sound from the enemy who had been pursuing them.

"I don't hear a thing," whispered Si, presently. "Do you?"

"I hear something—a good way off," replied Walter. "I think it is coming closer."

Again they strained their ears. Walter had not been mistaken, for now they heard the breaking of brushwood quite plainly. Slowly but surely the sounds were coming closer. The Negritos had provided themselves with torches and were following up the trail with all the skill of dogs in the chase.

"We can't escape them," muttered Si. "If only we had our pistols, or even our cutlasses!"

"Let us move on again," said Walter. "We may be able to throw them off sooner or later."