For a moment, while he lay listening, he heard nothing but the thumping of his own heart, which he feared would betray him.
In the silence he wondered what had become of his pursuers.
Had they given up the chase, believing the fugitive was gone beyond recovery?
Jim had no more than asked himself the question when he heard them moving through the undergrowth, a great deal closer than was agreeable.

Worse still, they were approaching him, and discussing the question while doing so.
"He didn't run far," said one, whose voice the lad recognized as belonging to Bob.
"No; he must be hiding somewhere close by; we've each a charge left, and we'll keep it ready to fire when he shows himself." "Yes, he must be somewhere around here, and we'll scare him up before long," was the assuring expression.
It looked very much as if they would keep their word, and Jim was sure he would have to move his quarters to escape discovery.

This was a matter of exceeding difficulty, for the wretches were listening for some such noise, which would betray their victim.
They seemed to be pursuing the hunt in a scientific manner, by walking back and forth over a certain area, gradually verging to the right, which was where Jim was crouching.
The boy succeeded in creeping a dozen feet, perhaps, without drawing attention to himself, when he was brought to a standstill by coming squarely against a fence, whose rails were too close together to allow his body to pass through.
Jim was in an agony of fear, for the two were steadily drawing near him.
When he was in despair there came the flutter of a bird in precisely the opposite direction, and the suspicion of the sailors immediately turned thitherward.
This was Jim's golden opportunity, and he was over the obstruction in a twinkling.

But the fates seemed against him.

Just as he left the top rail, it broke with a loud crash; and, feeling that everything now depended on his fleetness, he made his legs do their duty.