Solo was right. The closest pursuers did not have ammunition. Illya and Solo hit the fence in strong leaps, vaulted up and scrambled over. On the other side they plunged into the jungle, just as the soldiers with ammunition came into range.
Shots whistled through the trees and brush, but none hit, and the two agents ran on through the jungle and up on the side of the mountain.
After a time there was no sound of pursuit from behind. Solo sighed.
"Well, they seem to have given up."
"I doubt it, Napoleon," Illya said drily. "Look."
The small blond Russian pointed up and ahead. High on the mountain the sunlight flashed from something—something that moved up there.
"Binoculars, and trained right on us," Illya said.
"An observation post," Solo agreed. "The mountains are full of them."
"The troops are very alert. It seems obvious why," Illya said. "There!"
To the left a cloud of dust had risen into a sky above the jungle. On the mountain the flashes from the observation post became regular.
"Vehicles on a dirt road through here," Solo said.
"And the post is signaling them. About us, no doubt," Illya said.
The two agents watched the dust moving closer in the sky. Then an observation plane flew low overhead, a face looking down. To the right there was a sudden rumbling in the distance.
Illya Kuryakin and Napoleon Solo began to trot ahead, still going up the mountain toward the observation post.
THREE
The game of hide and seek went on all the rest of the day. A deadly game of hounds and hares, and Illya and Solo were the hares.
The two agents made their way through the thick jungle and up the side of the mountain. Once they crossed the dirt road just minutes before an armored car came slowly along, its turret aimed into the jungle, the officer in the turret scanning the vegetation on both sides.
Once they lay under thick growth as a squad of soldiers on foot passed within a few yards.
Once they crouched in a shadowed hollow in the mountain, their fingers on their triggers, as another squad that had almost surprised them passed within a few feet.
They eluded their pursuers all the rest of the day, but they were unable to escape. They were pushed steadily south and west, higher into the mountains and farther from San Pablo.
They climbed over the first mountains and down into the valley beyond and up the slopes of the next mountains.
"We're being herded like cattle, Napoleon," Illya said. "I don't like it very much."
"Yes," Solo said, gazing up and away to the south and east. "They know what they are doing. I'd say that we are being moved deeper into the wilderness."
"I hope that is all," Illya said.
"All?"
"I hope we are not being pushed into some real trap. They know this country and we don't."
"All this proves one thing anyway—the colonel surely doesn't want us to report to the tribunal!" Solo said. "He must have most of the regiment after us."
"You always look on the bright side," Illya said. "Which brings me to the conclusion that we had better find a way to get back."
"Yes, I'd say it was about time we stopped being pushed," Solo agreed.
Without another word, the two agents turned, checked their weapons, and began to move carefully back toward the ring of troops pursuing them so relentlessly.
It was almost night when they found the opening.
It was a deep and narrow canyon in the space between two mountain peaks high up. They had spotted a light tank on the outer slope of the left mountain, and a squad of foot soldiers on the outer slope of the right mountain. In between there was this narrow canyon, deep and shadowed.
"Shall we try it?" Illya said.
"They can't cover everywhere," Solo said. "It's too steep on both sides. If we run into anyone it couldn't be many."
"Let's go then," Illya said. "It's our best bet."
They plunged cautiously into the narrow canyon.
They were halfway through and still hadn't seen any of the soldiers. They emerged on the other side, climbed up the sides of the canyon to observe. Illya pointed to the soldiers and vehicles in the fading sunlight—the line of troops was now behind them!
"We're through," Illya said.
"Then let's get moving," Solo said. "They'll figure it out sooner or later, then they'll have to make their move."
The two agents slid down to the downward slope of the mountain, moved swiftly off down toward the jungle again. At the base of the mountain they reached, and passed through, a continuation of the narrow canyon. The mouth of the canyon opened into the flat land of the jungle that stretched unbroken toward the sea and San Pablo.
It also opened into the trap!
As Illya and Solo came out of the canyon they saw the troops facing them. There were troops up on each side of the small canyon. Troops moved down from the mountain behind them.
For a long minute they stood there. Ahead, behind his troops, they saw the colonel himself. They had been neatly lured into a trap. The two agents glanced at each other and prepared to make one last attempt to escape.
At that instant the firing exploded all around them!
Firing from the jungle, from the mountain, behind the troops!
Illya and Solo dove for cover. They began to open fire with their own puny weapons. But it was enough. Caught between two fires, the troops broke and ran for cover. Four men dressed in ragged black uniforms appeared from nowhere and leaped down the canyon side to Illya and Solo.
"Quick! They will be back!"
Solo and Illya did not stop to argue. They scrambled up the side of the canyon with their rescuers. They all went over the crest and ran down into the jungle. They ran perhaps a quarter of a mile. Behind them there was firing again as the regiment had regrouped and was coming on again. The ragged rescuers did not even look back, but ran through the jungle with Illya and Solo.
They reached a small clearing. From all sides ragged men in black uniforms were pouring from the jungle into the clearing. Illya faced the leader of the four who had rescued them.
"We can make it alone now. We have to reach San Pablo."
The ragged man in the black uniform raised his weapon, snapped an order. The ragged men stood all around Illya and Solo with their weapons leveled.
"You go nowhere. You are our prisoners!"
Illya and Solo looked slowly around at all the rescuers who now pointed their weapons.
Hours passed, and it was dark night, when the march ended in a box canyon among the mountains. Illya and Solo, their weapons once again taken from them, marched into the box canyon and saw the two men seated on boulders and waiting for them.
One of the men was Mr. Smith! The other was the small, wiry man with the thin wisp of beard on his chin. This bearded man waved the two agents to seats on other stones. His large, deep eyes stared at them. Illya nodded at the two men with a weary recognition. Solo stared at the small, wiry man with the wisp of beard.
"Steng!" Solo said softly. "Max Steng!"
"You know me, sir," Steng said. "Yes, I am Max Steng. Now I must know who you are."
The bearded Stengali leader looked at Illya Kuryakin. "We captured your friend once before, but he escaped us most ingeniously. You two are not local agents. You belong to some larger group. The OAS, perhaps? United States CIA?"