Evening star., 1925-06-22

| log hundred feet away. He did not
have to wait long. The cat was coming
| again to play with the mouse.
! Following the trail with the sure
ness of a bloodhound. came Gen.
Zarof. Nothing escaped those search
| ing black eyes, no crushed blade of
grass, no bent twig. no mark. no mat
ter how faint. in the moss. SO intent
was the CoSSaCk on his stalking that
he was upon the thing Rainsford had
made before he saw il. His foot
touched the protruding houSh that
was the trigger. Even as he touched
it, the General sensed his danger and
leaped back with the agility of an ape.
But he was not quite quick enough: I:
the dead tree, delicately adjusted to
rest on the cut living one. crushed
down and struck the General glanc-
ing blow on the shoulder as it fell;
but for his alertness he must have
been smashed beneath it. He stag
Eered, but he did not fall; nor did he
drop his revolver He stood there,
rubbing his injured shoulder, and
Rainsford, with fear again gripping
his heart heard the Generals mock
ing laugh ring through the Jungle
.'Rainsford," called the General, 'if
you are within sound of my voice, as
you. Not many men know how to
make a Malay catcher. Luckily
for me | too have hunted in Malacca.
You are proving interesting. Mr..
Rainsford. l am going now 10 have
my wound dressed; it's only slight
one. But l shall be back. | shall be
back"
When the General. nursing his
bruised shoulder. had gone, Rainsford
now, a desperate. hopeless flight. that
carried him on for some hours. Dusk
came. then darkness. and still he
pressed on. The ground grew softer
under his moccaSins; the vegetation
grew ranker, denser; insects bit him
savagely Then, as he stepped for
ward his foot sank into the ooZe. He
tried to wrench It back, but the muck
sucked viciously at his foot as II it
were a giant leech. With a violent
effort, he tore his foot loose. He knew
where he was now Death Swamp and
it's quicksand.
His hands were tight closed as If
his nerve were something tangible
that some one in the darkness was
trying to tear from his grip. The
softness OF the earth had given him
an idea. He stepped back from the
quicksand dozen feet or so and. like
some huge prehistoric beaver. he be-
gan to dig.
France when a seconds delay meant
death. That had been a placid pas
time compared to his digging now.
The pit grew deeper: when it was
above his shoulders, he climbed out
and from some hard saplings cut
stakes and sharpened them to a fine
point. These stakes he planted in the
bottom of the pit with the points
sticking up. With flying fingers he
wove a rough carpet of weeds and
branches and with it he covered the
sweat and aching with tiredneSs. he
crouched behind the stump of light
ning-charred tree.
He knew his pursuer was coming;
he heard the padding sound of feet
on the soft earth, and the night breeze
brought him the perfume of the Cen
erals cigarette. 1t seemed to Rains
ford that the General was coming with
unusual swiftness: he was not feeling
his way along, foot by foot. Rainsford,
crouching there. could not see the
General, nor could he see the pit. He
lived a year in minute. Then he felt
an impulse to cry aloud with joy, for
he heard the sharp crackle of the
breaking branches as the cover of the
pit gave way: he heard the sharp
scream of pain as the pointed stakes
found their mark. He leaped up from
his place of concealment. Then he
covered back. Three feet from the pit
a man was standing with an electric
torch in his hand
You've done well, Rainsford," the
voice of the General called. Your
Burmese tiger pit has claimed one of
my best dogs. Again you score l
think. Mr.. Rainsford. I'll see what you
can do against my whole pack I'm
going home for rest now. Thank you
for a most amusing evening"
At daybreak Rainsford lying near
the swamp, was awakened by a sound
that made him know that he had new
things TO learn about fear 1t was a
distant sound, faint and wavering but
he knew it. 1t was the baying of a
pack of hounds.
Rainsford knew he could do one of
two things. He could stay where he
was and wait. That was suicide. He
could flee. That was postponing the
inevitable. For moment he stood
there, thinking. An idea that held a
wild chance came to him, and. tighten
ing his belt, he headed away from the
swamp.
The baytng of the hounds drew
nearer, then still nearer. nearer. ever
nearer. On ridge Rainsford climbed
tree. Down a watercourse, not a
quarter of a mile away, he could see
the bush moving. Straining his eyes,
ne saw the lean figure of Gen. Zaroff:
just ahead of him Rainsford made out
another figure, whose wide shoulders
surged through the tall jungle weeds.
IL was the giant Ivan, and he seemed
pulled forward by some unseen force: