by Louis Tracy
CHAPTER XI
THE FIGHT
The sailor knew so accurately the position of his reliable sentinelsthat he could follow each phase of the imaginary conflict on the otherside of the island. The first outbreak of desultory firing died awayamidst a chorus of protest from every feathered inhabitant of the isle,so Jenks assumed that the Dyaks had gathered again on the beach afterriddling the scarecrows with bullets or slashing them with their heavyrazor-edged parangs, Malay swords with which experts can fell a stoutsapling at a single blow.
A hasty council was probably held, and, notwithstanding their fear ofthe silent company in the hollow, an advance was ultimately made alongthe beach. Within a few yards they encountered the invisible cord ofthe third spring-gun. There was a report, and another fierce outbreakof musketry. This was enough. Not a man would move a step nearer thatabode of the dead. The next commotion arose on the ridge near the NorthCape.
"At this rate of progress," said Jenks to the girl, "they will notreach our house until daylight."
"I almost wish they were here," was the quiet reply. "I find thiswaiting and listening to be trying to the nerves."
They were lying on a number of ragged garments hastily spread on theledge, and peering intently into the moonlit area of Prospect Park. Thegreat rock itself was shrouded in somber shadows. Even if they stood upnone could see them from the ground, so dense was the darknessenveloping them.
He turned slightly and took her hand. It was cool and moist. It no moretrembled than his own.
"The Dyaks are far more scared than you," he murmured with a laugh."Cruel and courageous as they are, they dare not face a spook."
"Then what a pity it is we cannot conjure up a ghost for their benefit!All the spirits I have ever read about were ridiculous. Why cannot onebe useful occasionally?"
The question set him thinking. Unknown to the girl, the materials for adramatic apparition were hidden amidst the bushes near the well. Hecudgeled his brains to remember the stage effects of juvenile days; butthese needed limelight, blue flares, mirrors, phosphorus.
The absurdity of hoping to devise any such accessories whilst perchedon a ledge in a remote island--a larger reef of the thousands in theChina Sea--tickled him.
"What is it?" asked Iris.
He repeated his list of missing stage properties. They had nothing todo but to wait, and people in the very crux and maelstrom of existenceusually discuss trivial things.
"I don't know anything about phosphorus," said the girl, "but you canobtain queer results from sulphur, and there is an old box of Norwegianmatches resting at this moment on the shelf in my room. Don't youremember? They were in your pocket, and you were going to throw themaway. Why, what are you doing?"
For Jenks had cast the rope-ladder loose and was evidently about todescend.
"Have no fear," he said; "I will not be away five minutes."
"If you are going down I must come with you. I will not be left herealone."
"Please do not stop me," he whispered earnestly. "You must not come. Iwill take no risk whatever. If you remain here you can warn meinstantly. With both of us on the ground we will incur real danger. Iwant you to keep a sharp lookout towards Turtle Beach in case the Dyakscome that way. Those who are crossing the island will not reach us fora long time."
She yielded, though unwillingly. She was tremulous with anxiety on hisaccount.
He vanished without another word. She next saw him in the moonlightnear the well. He was rustling among the shrubs, and he returned to therock with something white in his arms, which he seemingly deposited atthe mouth of the cave. He went back to the well and carried anothersimilar burthen. Then he ran towards the house. The doorway was notvisible from the ledge, and she passed a few horrible moments until alow hiss beneath caught her ear. She could tell by the creak of therope-ladder that he was ascending. At last he reached her side, and shemurmured, with a gasping sob--
"Don't go away again. I cannot stand it."
He thought it best to soothe her agitation by arousing interest. Stillhauling in the ladder with one hand, he held out the other, on whichluminous wisps were writhing like glow-worms' ghosts.
"You are responsible," he said. "You gave me an excellent idea, and Iwas obliged to carry it out."
"What have you done?"
"Arranged a fearsome bogey in the cave."
"But how?"
"It was not exactly a pleasant operation, but the only laws ofnecessity are those which must be broken."
She understood that he did not wish her to question him further.Perhaps curiosity, now that he was safe, might have vanquished herterror, and led to another demand for enlightenment, but at thatinstant the sound of an angry voice and the crunching of coral away tothe left drove all else from her mind.
"They are coming by way of the beach, after all," whispered Jenks.
He was mistaken, in a sense. Another outburst of intermittent firingamong the trees on the north of the ridge showed that some, at least,of the Dyaks were advancing by their former route. The appearance ofthe Dyak chief on the flat belt of shingle, with his right arm slungacross his breast, accompanied by not more than half a dozen followers,showed that a few hardy spirits had dared to pass the Valley of Deathwith all its nameless terrors.
They advanced cautiously enough, as though dreading a surprise. Thechief carried a bright parang in his left hand; the others were armedwith guns, their swords being thrust through belts. Creeping forward ontip-toe, though their distant companions were making a tremendous row,they looked a murderous gang as they peered across the open space, nowbrilliantly illuminated by the moon.
Jenks had a sudden intuition that the right thing to do now was toshoot the whole party. He dismissed the thought at once. All hispreparations were governed by the hope that the pirates might abandontheir quest after hours of fruitless search. It would be most unwise,he told himself, to precipitate hostilities. Far better avoid aconflict altogether, if that were possible, than risk the immediatediscovery of his inaccessible retreat.
In other words he made a grave mistake, which shows how a man may errwhen over-agonized by the danger of the woman he loves. The bold coursewas the right one. By killing the Dyak leader he would have deprivedthe enemy of the dominating influence in this campaign of revenge. Whenthe main body, already much perturbed by the unseen and intangibleagencies which opened fire at them in the wood, arrived in ProspectPark to find only the dead bodies of their chief and his small force,their consternation could be turned into mad panic by a vigorousbombardment from the rock.
Probably, in less than an hour after their landing, the whole tribewould have rushed pell-mell to the boats, cursing the folly which ledthem to this devil-haunted island. But it serves no good purpose to saywhat might have been. As it was the Dyaks, silent now and moving withthe utmost caution, passed the well, and were about to approach thecave when one of them saw the house.
Instantly they changed their tactics. Retreating hastily to the shadeof the opposite cliff they seemed to await the coming ofreinforcements. The sailor fancied that a messenger was dispatched byway of the north sands to hurry up the laggards, because the distantfiring slackened, and, five minutes later, a fierce outbreak of yellsamong the trees to the right heralded a combined rush on the Belle VueCastle.
The noise made by the savages was so great--the screams of bewilderedbirds circling overhead so incessant--that Jenks was compelled to speakquite loudly when he said to Iris--
"They must think we sleep soundly not to be disturbed by the volleysthey have fired already."
She would have answered, but he placed a restraining hand on hershoulder, for the Dyaks quickly discovering that the hut was empty, rantowards the cave and thus came in full view.
As well as Jenks could judge, the foremost trio of the yelping hordewere impaled on the bayonets of the _cheval de frise_, learningtoo late its formidable nature. The wounded men shrieked in agony, buttheir cries were drowned in a torrent of amazed shouts from theircompanion
s. Forthwith there was a stampede towards the well, the cliff,the beaches, anywhere to get away from that awesome cavern where ghostsdwelt and men fell maimed at the very threshold. The sailor, leaning asfar over the edge of the rock as the girl's expostulations wouldpermit, heard a couple of men groaning beneath, whilst a third limpedaway with frantic and painful haste.
"What is it?" whispered Iris, eager herself to witness the tumult."What has happened?"
"They have been routed by a box of matches and a few dried bones," heanswered.
There was no time for further speech. He was absorbed in estimating theprobable number of the Dyaks. Thus far, he had seen about fifty.Moreover, he did not wish to acquaint Iris with the actual details ofthe artifice that had been so potent. Her allusion to the box ofwater-sodden Taendstickors gave him the notion of utilizing as an activeally the bleached remains of the poor fellow who had long ago fallen avictim to this identical mob of cut-throats or their associates. Hegathered the principal bones from their resting-place near the well,rubbed them with the ends of the matches after damping the sulphuragain, and arranged them with ghastly effect on the pile of rubbish atthe further end of the cave, creeping under the _cheval de frise_for the purpose.
Though not so vivid as he wished, the pale-glimmering headless skeletonin the intense darkness of the interior was appalling enough in allconscience. Fortunately the fumes of the sulphur fed on the bonysubstance. They endured a sufficient time to scare every Dyak whocaught a glimpse of the monstrous object crouching in luminous horrorwithin the dismal cavern.
Not even the stirring exhortations of the chief, whose voice was raisedin furious speech, could induce his adherents to again approach thataffrighting spot. At last the daring scoundrel himself, still wieldinghis naked sword, strode right up to the very doorway. Stricken withsudden stupor, he gazed at the fitful gleams within. He prodded the_cheval de frise_ with the parang. Here was something definite andsolid. Then he dragged one of the wounded men out into the moonlight.
Again Jenks experienced an itching desire to send a bullet through theDyak's head; again he resisted the impulse. And so passed that which isvouchsafed by Fate to few men--a second opportunity.
Another vehement harangue by the chief goaded some venturesome spiritsinto carrying their wounded comrade out of sight, presumably to thehut. Inspired by their leader's fearless example, they even removed thethird injured Dyak from the vicinity of the cave, but the celerity oftheir retreat caused the wretch to bawl in agony.
Their next undertaking was no sooner appreciated by the sailor than hehurriedly caused Iris to shelter herself beneath the tarpaulin, whilsthe cowered close to the floor of the ledge, looking only through thescreen of tall grasses. They kindled a fire near the well. Soon itsruddy glare lit up the dark rock with fantastic flickerings, and drewscintillations from the weapons and ornaments of the hideouslypicturesque horde gathered in its vicinity.
They spoke a language of hard vowels and nasal resonance, and ate whathe judged to be dry fish, millets, and strips of tough preserved meat,which they cooked on small iron skewers stuck among the glowing embers.His heart sank as he counted sixty-one, all told, assembled withinforty yards of the ledge. Probably several others were guarding theboats or prowling about the island. Indeed, events proved that morethan eighty men had come ashore in three large sampans, roomy and fleetcraft, well fitted for piratical excursions up river estuaries or alonga coast.
They were mostly bare-legged rascals, wearing Malay hats, loose jacketsreaching to the knee, and sandals. One man differed essentially fromthe others. He was habited in the conventional attire of an IndianMahommedan, and his skin was brown, whilst the swarthy Dyaks wereyellow beneath the dirt. Jenks thought, from the manner in which histurban was tied, that he must be a Punjabi Mussulman--very likely anescaped convict from the Andamans.
The most careful scrutiny did not reveal any arms of precision. Theyall carried muzzle-loaders, either antiquated flintlocks, or gunssufficiently modern to be fitted with nipples for percussion caps.
Each Dyak, of course, sported a parang and dagger-like kriss; a fewbore spears, and about a dozen shouldered a long straight piece ofbamboo. The nature of this implement the sailor could not determine atthe moment. When the knowledge did come, it came so rapidly that he wassaved from many earlier hours of abiding; dread, for one of thoseinnocuous-looking weapons was fraught with more quiet deadliness than aGatling gun.
In the neighborhood of the fire an animated discussion took place.Though it was easy to see that the chief was all-paramount, hisfellow-tribesmen exercised a democratic right of free speech andoutspoken opinion.
Flashing eyes and expressive hands were turned towards cave and hut.Once, when the debate grew warm, the chief snatched up a burning branchand held it over the blackened embers of the fire extinguished byJenks. He seemed to draw some definite conclusion from an examinationof the charcoal, and the argument thenceforth proceeded with lessemphasis. Whatever it was that he said evidently carried conviction.
Iris, nestling close to the sailor, whispered--
"Do you know what he has found out?"
"I can only guess that he can tell by the appearance of the burnt woodhow long it is since it was extinguished. Clearly they agree with him."
"Then they know we are still here?"
"Either here or gone within a few hours. In any case they will make athorough search of the island at daybreak."
"Will it be dawn soon?"
"Yes. Are you tired?"
"A little cramped--that is all."
"Don't think I am foolish--can you manage to sleep?"
"Sleep! With those men so near!"
"Yes. We do not know how long they will remain. We must keep up ourstrength. Sleep, next to food and drink, is a prime necessity."
"If it will please you, I will try," she said, with such sweetreadiness to obey his slightest wish that the wonder is he did not kissher then and there. By previous instruction she knew exactly what todo. She crept quietly back until well ensconced in the niche widenedand hollowed for her accommodation. There, so secluded was she from theouter world of horror and peril, that the coarse voices beneath onlyreached her in a murmur. Pulling one end of the tarpaulin over her, shestretched her weary limbs on a litter of twigs and leaves, commendedherself and the man she loved to God's keeping, and, wonderful thoughit may seem, was soon slumbering peacefully.
The statement may sound passing strange to civilized ears, accustomedonly to the routine of daily life and not inured to danger and wildsurroundings. But the soldier who has snatched a hasty doze in thetrenches, the sailor who has heard a fierce gale buffeting the walls ofhis frail ark, can appreciate the reason why Iris, weary and surfeitedwith excitement, would have slept were she certain that the nextsunrise would mark her last hour on earth.
Jenks, too, composed himself for a brief rest. He felt assured thatthere was not the remotest chance of their lofty perch being found outbefore daybreak, and the first faint streaks of dawn would awaken him.
These two, remote, abandoned, hopelessly environed by a savage enemy,closed their eyes contentedly and awaited that which the coming dayshould bring forth.
When the morning breeze swept over the ocean and the stars werebeginning to pale before the pink glory flung broadcast through the skyby the yet invisible sun, the sailor was aroused by the quietfluttering of a bird about to settle on the rock, but startled by thesight of him.
His faculties were at once on the alert, though he little realized thedanger betokened by the bird's rapid dart into the void. Turning firstto peer at Iris, he satisfied himself that she was still asleep. Herlips were slightly parted in a smile; she might be dreaming of summerand England. He noiselessly wormed his way to the verge of the rock andlooked down through the grass-roots.
The Dyaks were already stirring. Some were replenishing the fire,others were drawing water, cooking, eating, smoking long thin-stemmedpipes with absurdly small bowls, or oiling their limbs and weapons withimpartial energy.
The chief yet lay stretched on the sand, but, whenthe first beams of the sun gilded the waters, a man stooped over theprostrate form and said something that caused the sleeper to risestiffly, supporting himself on his uninjured arm. They at once went offtogether towards Europa Point.
"They have found the boat," thought Jenks. "Well, they are welcome toall the information it affords."
The pair soon returned. Another Dyak advanced to exhibit one of Jenks'sspring-gun attachments. The savages had a sense of humor. Severallaughed heartily when the cause of their overnight alarms was revealed.The chief alone preserved a gloomy and saturnine expression.
He gave some order at which they all hung back sheepishly. Cursing themin choice Malay, the chief seized a thick faggot and strode in thedirection of the cave. Goaded into activity by his truculent demeanor,some followed him, and Jenks--unable to see, but listeninganxiously--knew that they were tearing the _cheval de frise_ fromits supports. Nevertheless none of the working party entered theexcavation. They feared the parched bones that shone by night.
"Poor J.S.!" murmured the sailor. "If his spirit still lingers near thescene of his murder he will thank me for dragging him into the fray. Hefought them living and he can scare them dead."
As he had not been able to complete the communicating shaft it was notnow of vital importance should the Dyaks penetrate to the interior. Yethe thanked the good luck that had showered such a heap of rubbish overthe spot containing his chief stores and covering the vein of gold.Wild as these fellows were, they well knew the value of the preciousmetal, and if by chance they lighted upon such a well-defined lode theymight not quit the island for weeks.
At last, on a command from the chief, the Dyaks scattered in variousdirections. Some turned towards Europa Point, but the majority went tothe east along Turtle Beach or by way of the lagoon. Prospect Park wasdeserted. They were scouring both sections of the island in full force.
The quiet watcher on the ledge took no needless risks. Though it wasimpossible to believe any stratagem had been planned for his specialbenefit an accident might betray him. With the utmost circumspection herose on all fours and with comprehensive glance examined trees,plateau, and both strips of beach for signs of a lurking foe. He needhave no fear. Of all places in the island the Dyaks least imagined thattheir quarry had lain all night within earshot of their encampment.
At this hour, when the day had finally conquered the night, and theplacid sea offered a turquoise path to the infinite, the scene wasrestful, gently bewitching. He knew that, away there to the north, P.and O. steamers, Messageries Maritimes, and North German Lloyd linerswere steadily churning the blue depths _en route_ to Japan or theStraits Settlements. They carried hundreds of European passengers, menand women, even little children, who were far removed from theknowledge that tragedies such as this Dyak horror lay almost in theirpath. People in London were just going to the theater. He recalled thefamiliar jingle of the hansoms scampering along Piccadilly, the morestately pace of the private carriages crossing the Park. Was itpossible that in the world of today--the world of telegraphs andexpress trains, of the newspaper and the motor car--two inoffensivehuman beings could be done to death so shamefully and openly as wouldbe the fate of Iris and himself if they fell into the hands of thesesavages! It was inconceivable, intolerable! But it was true!
And then, by an odd trick of memory, his mind reverted, not to theYorkshire manor he learnt to love as a boy, but to a little Frenchinland town where he once passed a summer holiday intent on improvinghis knowledge of the language. Interior France is even more remote,more secluded, more provincial, than agricultural England. There nobreath of the outer world intrudes. All is laborious, circumspect, atrifle poverty-stricken, but beautified by an Arcadian simplicity. Yetone memorable day, when walking by the banks of a river, he came uponthree men dragging from out a pool the water-soaked body of a younggirl into whose fair forehead the blunt knob often seen on the back ofan old-fashioned axe had been driven with cruel force. So, even in thattiny old-world hamlet, murder and lust could stalk hand in hand.
He shuddered. Why did such a hateful vision trouble him? Resolutelybanning the raven-winged specter, he slid back down the ledge andgently wakened Iris. She sat up instantly and gazed at him withwondering eyes.
Fearful lest she should forget her surroundings, he placed a warningfinger on his lips.
"Oh," she said in a whisper, "are they still here?"
He told her what had happened, and suggested that they should havesomething to eat whilst the coast was clear beneath. She needed nosecond bidding, for the long vigil of the previous night had made hervery hungry, and the two breakfasted right royally on biscuit, coldfowl, ham, and good water.
In this, the inner section of their refuge, they could be seen only bya bird or by a man standing on the distant rocky shelf that formed thesouthern extremity of the opposite cliff, and the sailor kept a closelookout in that direction.
Iris was about to throw the remains of the feast into an empty oil-tinprovided for refuse when Jenks restrained her.
"No," he said, smilingly. "Scraps should be the first course next time.We must not waste an atom of food."
"How thoughtless of me!" she exclaimed. "Please tell me you think theywill go away today."
But the sailor flung himself flat on the ledge and grasped aLee-Metford.
"Be still, on your life," he said. "Squeeze into your corner. There isa Dyak on the opposite cliff."
True enough, a man had climbed to that unhappily placed rocky table,and was shouting something to a confrere high on the cliff over theirheads. As yet he had not seen them, nor even noticed the place wherethey were concealed. The sailor imagined, from the Dyak's gestures,that he was communicating the uselessness of further search on thewestern part of the island.
When the conversation ceased, he hoped the loud-voiced savage woulddescend. But no! The scout looked into the valley, at the well, thehouse, the cave. Still he did not see the ledge. At that unlucky momentthree birds, driven from the trees on the crest by the passage of theDyaks, flew down the face of the cliff and began a circling quest forsome safe perch on which to alight.
Jenks swore with an emphasis not the less earnest because it was mute,and took steady aim at the Dyak's left breast. The birds flutteredabout in ever smaller circles. Then one of them dropped easily on tothe lip of the rock. Instantly his bright eyes encountered those of theman, and he darted off with a scream that brought his mates after him.
The Dyak evidently noted the behavior of the birds--his only lore wasthe reading of such signs--and gazed intently at the ledge. Jenks hecould not distinguish behind the screen of grass. He might perhaps seesome portion of the tarpaulin covering the stores, but at the distanceit must resemble a weather-beaten segment of the cliff. Yet somethingpuzzled him. After a steady scrutiny he turned and yelled to others onthe beach.
The crucial moment had arrived. Jenks pressed the trigger, and the Dyakhurtled through the air, falling headlong out of sight.
The sound of this, the first shot of real warfare, awoke Rainbow Islandinto tremendous activity. The winged life of the place filled the airwith raucous cries, whilst shouting Dyaks scurried in all directions.Several came into the valley. Those nearest the fallen man picked himup and carried him to the well. He was quite dead, and, although amidsthis other injuries they soon found the bullet wound, they evidently didnot know whence the shot came, for those to whom he shouted had noinkling of his motive, and the slight haze from the rifle was instantlyswept away by the breeze.
Iris could hear the turmoil beneath, and she tremulously asked--
"Are they going to attack us?"
"Not yet," was the reassuring answer. "I killed the fellow who saw usbefore he could tell the others."
It was a bold risk, and he had taken it, though, now the Dyaks knew forcertain their prey had not escaped, there was no prospect of theirspeedy departure. Nevertheless the position was not utterly hopeless.None of the enemy could tell how or by whom thei
r companion had beenshot. Many among the excited horde jabbering beneath actually looked atthe cliff over and over again, yet failed to note the potentialities ofthe ledge, with its few tufts of grass growing where seeds hadapparently been blown by the wind or dropped by passing birds.
Jenks understood, of course, that the real danger would arise when theyvisited the scene of their comrade's disaster. Even then the waveringbalance of chance might cast the issue in his favor. He could onlywait, with ready rifle, with the light of battle lowering in his eyes.Of one thing at least he was certain--before they conquered him hewould levy a terrible toll.
He glanced back at Iris. Her face was pale beneath its mask ofsunbrown. She was bent over her Bible, and Jenks did not know that shewas reading the 91st Psalm. Her lips murmured--
"I will say unto the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress; my God, inHim will I trust."
The chief was listening intently to the story of the Dyak who saw thedead man totter and fall. He gave some quick order. Followed by a scoreor more of his men he walked rapidly to the foot of the cliff wherethey found the lifeless body.
And Iris read--
"Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrowthat flieth by day."
Jenks stole one more hasty glance at her. The chief and the greaternumber of his followers were out of sight behind the rocks. Some ofthem must now be climbing to that fatal ledge. Was this the end?
Yet the girl, unconscious of the doom impending, kept her eyessteadfastly fixed on the book.
"For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thyways.
"They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy footagainst a stone....
"He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him introuble: I will deliver him and honour him."
Iris did not apply the consoling words to herself. She closed the bookand bent forward sufficiently in her sheltering niche to permit her togaze with wistful tenderness upon the man whom she hoped to seedelivered and honored. She knew he would dare all for her sake. Shecould only pray and hope. After reading those inspired verses sheplaced implicit trust in the promise made. For He was good: His was themercy that "endureth forever." Enemies encompassed them with words ofhatred--fought against them without a cause--but there was One whoshould "judge among the heathen" and "fill the places with deadbodies."
Suddenly a clamor of discordant yells fell upon her ears. Jenks rose tohis knees. The Dyaks had discovered their refuge and were about to openfire. He offered them a target lest perchance Iris were not thoroughlyscreened.
"Keep close," he said. "They have found us. Lead will be flying aroundsoon."
She flinched back into the crevice; the sailor fell prone. Four bulletsspat into the ledge, of which three pierced the tarpaulin and oneflattened itself against the rock.
Then Jenks took up the tale. So curiously constituted was this man,that although he ruthlessly shot the savage who first spied out theirretreat, he was swayed only by the dictates of stern necessity. Therewas a feeble chance that further bloodshed might be averted. Thatchance had passed. Very well. The enemy must start the dreadful gameabout to be played. They had thrown the gage and he answered them. Fourtimes did the Lee-Metford carry death, unseen, almost unfelt, acrossthe valley.
Ere the fourth Dyak collapsed limply where he stood, others were there,firing at the little puff of smoke above the grass. They got in a fewshots, most of which sprayed at various angles off the face of thecliff. But they waited for no more. When the lever of the Lee-Metfordwas shoved home for the fifth time the opposing crest was bare of allopponents save two, and they lay motionless.
The fate of the flanking detachment was either unperceived or unheededby the Dyaks left in the vicinity of the house and well. Astounded bythe firing that burst forth in mid-air, Jenks had cleared the dangerousrock before they realized that here, above their heads, were the whiteman and the maid whom they sought.
With stupid zeal they blazed away furiously, only succeeding inshowering fragments of splintered stone into the Eagle's Nest. And thesailor smiled. He quietly picked up an old coat, rolled it into a balland pushed it into sight amidst the grass. Then he squirmed round onhis stomach and took up a position ten feet away. Of course those whostill carried loaded guns discharged them at the bundle of rags,whereupon Jenks thrust his rifle beyond the edge of the rock and leanedover.
Three Dyaks fell before the remainder made up their minds to run. Onceconvinced, however, that running was good for their health, they movedwith much celerity. The remaining cartridges in the magazine slackenedthe pace of two of their number. Jenks dropped the empty weapon andseized another. He stood up now and sent a quick reminder after therearmost pirate. The others had disappeared towards the locality wheretheir leader and his diminished troupe were gathered, not daring toagain come within range of the whistling Dum-dums. The sailor, holdinghis rifle as though pheasant-shooting, bent forward and sought abelated opponent, but in vain. In military phrase, the _terrain_was clear of the enemy. There was no sound save the wailing of birds,the soft sough of the sea, and the yelling of the three wounded men inthe house, who knew not what terrors threatened, and vainly bawled forsuccor.
Again Jenks could look at Iris. Her face was bleeding. The sightmaddened him.
"My God!" he groaned, "are you wounded?"
She smiled bravely at him.
"It is nothing," she said. "A mere splash from the rock which cut myforehead."
He dared not go to her. He could only hope that it was no worse, so heturned to examine the valley once more for vestige of a living foe.
