Then he was away at the top of his speed, making for a jungle of foliage not a quarter of a mile before him.

Shouts he heard, and more shots, but he caught sight of no pursuers.

Urged on even as they were by the fear of returning to the ship without Dickory, they could not expect to match, in their heavy boots, the stag-like speed of this barefooted bounder.
After a time Dickory stopped running, for his path, always straight away, so far as he could judge, from the landing-place, became very difficult.

In the forest there were streams, sometimes narrow and sometimes wide, and how deep he knew not, so that now he jumped, now he walked on fallen trees.

Sometimes he crossed water and marsh by swinging himself from the limbs of one tree to those of another.