Prester John — John Buchan

Wha called ye partan face my bonny man Then clutching his lantern he ran for dear life while Archie and I raced at his heels As I turned I had a glimpse of a huge figure knife in hand bounding towards us Though I only saw it in the turn of a head the face stamped itself indelibly upon my mind It was black black as ebony but it was different from the ordinary negro There were no thick lips and flat nostrils rather if I could trust my eyes the nose was high bridged and the lines of the mouth sharp and firm But it was distorted into an expression of such a devilish fury and amazement that my heart became like water We had a start as I have said of some twenty or thirty yards Among the boulders we were not at a great disadvantage for a boy can flit quickly over them while a grown man must pick his way Archie as ever kept his wits the best of us Make straight for the burn he shouted in a hoarse whisper we ll beat him on the slope