* * * * *
The beaming sun peeped through the small window of the barn, stealthily spying upon them making love on the fluffy pile of aromatic hay. The magic fragrance of the dried grass made them drunk, increasing the pleasure beyond reality, and some straws pricking their bodies stimulated them like a spur drives a horse.
Panting with overflowing delight Jeff was close to that magic line when nothing exists except the enjoyment when he heard a worried voice, and saw a black girl wearing a very old-fashioned gown.
«They found us,» she said uneasily. «You have to run.»
* * * * *
Helping each other, they ran, struggling through a marshland forest along the bank of a river. The ground was swampy, and Vera ran holding the edge of her very long dark blue skirt.
Looking at her superannuated dress and being clothed himself in a wide shirt and cotton pants, Jeff wondered, «Why are we wearing this?» But another worry pushed this thought aside.
They heard dogs barking behind them, and they knew the hounds had come upon their tracks. They did not have much time.
The thorny branches of the bushes, lianas and brushwood, shrubs and ferns were catching their clothes, making their trail into a nightmare. Every passing yard asked the maximum strain of their decreasing strength.
They had already abandoned the bag with the food and water. A tree branch tore Vera’s blue hat off, but she did not stop. She did not lose even a second of their valuable, diminishing time. She was still running full out, and the chestnut mane of her beautiful hair seemed like wings on her shoulders.
Glimpsing the brave face of his sweetheart with anxiety and helpless compassion, Jeff nevertheless felt sincere veneration. Exhausted, she neither complained nor faltered. She ran as fast as she could, and it was not her fault that the relentless barking was getting closer.
The dying vermilion light of the sunset lit up a glade.
They ran from forest to glade and understood at once – it was the end of their escape. There was no way out.
On one side of the glade the plain was open. The lovers saw horsemen galloping toward them, and Vera’s husband was their leader. The dogs were behind them. On the other edge of the glade the timberland was impenetrable and a river seemed the only possible way out, but when Vera and Jeff went close they saw many huge alligators down the steep slope.
«Better to be eaten up by crocodiles than get back into his claws!» she cried, rushing to the river. Jeff followed her, ready to share her fate no matter how horrible it might be.