Read The Wings of the Morning Page 14


  CHAPTER XIV

  THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS

  "You are a dear unreasonable little girl," he said. "Have you breathenough to tell me why you came down the ladder?"

  "When I discovered you were gone, I became wild with fright. Don't yousee, I imagined you were wounded and had fallen from the ledge. Whatelse could I do but follow, either to help you, or, if that were notpossible--"

  He found her hand and pressed it to his lips.

  "I humbly crave your pardon," he said. "That explanation is more thanample. It was I who behaved unreasonably. Of course I should havewarned you. Yet, sweetheart, I ran no risk. The real danger passed aweek ago."

  "How can that be?"

  "I might have been blown to pieces whilst adjusting the heavy stone infront of the caps. I assure you I was glad to leave the place that daywith a whole skin. If the stone had wobbled, or slipped, well--it was acase of determined _felo-de-se_."

  "May I ask how many more wild adventures you undertook without myknowledge?"

  "One other, of great magnitude. I fell in love with you."

  "Nonsense!" she retorted. "I knew that long before you admitted it toyourself."

  "Date, please?"

  "Well, to begin at the very beginning, you thought I was nice on boardthe _Sirdar_. Now, didn't you?"

  And they were safely embarked on a conversation of no interest to anyother person in the wide world, but which provided them with the mostdelightful topic imaginable.

  Thus the time sped until the rising moon silhouetted the cliff on thewhite carpet of coral-strewn sand. The black shadow-line traveledslowly closer to the base of the cliff, and Jenks, guided also by thestars, told Iris that midnight was at hand.

  They knelt on the parapet of the ledge, alert to catch any unusualsound, and watching for any indication of human movement. But RainbowIsland was now still as the grave. The wounded Dyaks had seemingly beenremoved from hut and beach; the dead lay where they had fallen. The seasang a lullaby to the reef, and the fresh breeze whispered among thepalm fronds--that was all.

  "Perhaps they have gone!" murmured Iris.

  The sailor put his arm round her neck and gently pressed her lipstogether. Anything would serve as an excuse for that sort of thing, buthe really did want absolute silence at that moment. If the Mussulmankept his compact, the hour was at hand.

  An unlooked-for intruder disturbed the quietude of the scene. Their oldacquaintance, the singing beetle, chortled his loud way across thepark. Iris was dying--as women say--to remind Jenks of their firstmeeting with that blatant insect, but further talk was impossible;there was too much at stake--water they must have.

  Then the light hiss of a snake rose to them from the depths. That is asound never forgotten when once heard. It is like unto no other.Indeed, the term "hiss" is a misnomer for the quick sibilant expulsionof the breath by an alarmed or angered serpent.

  Iris paid no heed to it, but Jenks, who knew there was not a reptile ofthe snake variety on the island, leaned over the ledge and emitted atolerably good imitation. The native was beneath. Probably the flightof the beetle had helped his noiseless approach.

  "Sahib!"

  The girl started at the unexpected call from the depths.

  "Yes," said Jenks quietly.

  "A rope, sahib."

  The sailor lowered a rope. Something was tied to it beneath. TheMahommedan apparently had little fear of being detected.

  "Pull, sahib."

  "Usually it is the sahib who says 'pull,' but circumstances altercases," communed Jenks. He hauled steadily at a heavy weight--agoatskin filled with cold water. He emptied the hot and sour wine outof the tin cup, and was about to hand the thrice-welcome draught toIris when a suspicious thought caused him to withhold it.

  "Let me taste first," he said.

  The Indian might have betrayed them to the Dyaks. More unlikely thingshad happened. What if the water were poisoned or drugged?

  He placed the tin to his lips. The liquid was musty, having been in theskin nearly two days. Otherwise it seemed to be all right. With a sighof profound relief he gave Iris the cup, and smiled at the mostunladylike haste with which she emptied it.

  "Drink yourself, and give me some more," she said.

  "No more for you at present, madam. In a few minutes, yes."

  "Oh, why not now?"

  "Do not fret, dear one. You can have all you want in a little while.But to drink much now would make you very ill."

  Iris waited until he could speak again.

  "Why did you----" she began.

  But he bent over the parapet--

  "_Koi hai_!"[Footnote: Equivalent to "Hello, there!"]

  "Sahib!"

  "You have not been followed?"

  "I think not, sahib. Do not talk too loud; they are foxes in cunning.You have a ladder, they say, sahib. Will not your honor descend? I havemuch to relate."

  Iris made no protest when Jenks explained the man's request. She onlystipulated that he should not leave the ladder, whilst she would remainwithin easy earshot. The sailor, of course, carried his revolver. Healso picked up a crowbar, a most useful and silent weapon. Then he wentquietly downwards. Nearing the ground, he saw the native, who salaameddeeply and was unarmed. The poor fellow seemed to be very anxious tohelp them.

  "What is your name?" demanded the sailor.

  "Mir Jan, sahib, formerly _naik_[Footnote: Corporal.] in theKumaon Rissala."

  "When did you leave the regiment?"

  "Two years ago, sahib. I killed--"

  "What was the name of your Colonel?"

  "Kurnal I-shpence-sahib, a brave man, but of no account on a horse."

  Jenks well remembered Colonel Spence--a fat, short-legged warrior, whorolled off his charger if the animal so much as looked sideways. MirJan was telling the truth.

  "You are right, Mir Jan. What is Taung S'Ali doing now?"

  "Cursing, sahib, for the most part. His men are frightened. He wantedthem to try once more with the tubes that shoot poison, but theyrefused. He could not come alone, for he could not use his right hand,and he was wounded by the blowing up of the rock. You nearly killed me,too, sahib. I was there with the bazaar-born whelps. By the Prophet'sbeard, it was a fine stroke."

  "Are they going away, then?"

  "No, sahib. The dogs have been whipped so sore that they snarl forrevenge. They say there is no use in firing at you, but they areresolved to kill you and the miss-sahib, or carry her off if sheescapes the assault."

  "What assault?"

  "Protector of the poor, they are building scaling-ladders--four in all.Soon after dawn they intend to rush your position. You may slay some,they say, but you cannot slay three score. Taung S'Ali has promised agold _tauk_[Footnote: A native ornament.] to every man whosurvives if they succeed. They have pulled down your signal on the highrocks and are using the poles for the ladders. They think you have a_jadu_[Footnote: A charm.] sahib, and they want to use your ownwork against you."

  This was serious news. A combined attack might indeed be dangerous,though it had the excellent feature that if it failed the Dyaks wouldcertainly leave the island. But his sky-sign destroyed! That was bad.Had a vessel chanced to pass, the swinging letters would surely haveattracted attention. Now, even that faint hope was dispelled.

  "Sahib, there is a worse thing to tell," said Mir Jan.

  "Say on, then."

  "Before they place the ladders against the cliff they will build a fireof green wood so that the smoke will be blown by the wind into youreyes. This will help to blind your aim. Otherwise, you never miss."

  "That will assuredly be awkward, Mir Jan."

  "It will, sahib. Soul of my father, if we had but half a troop withus----"

  But they had not, and they were both so intent on the conversation thatthey were momentarily off their guard. Iris was more watchful. Shefancied there was a light rustling amidst the undergrowth beneath thetrees on the right. And she could hiss too, if that were the correctthing to do.

  So
she hissed.

  Jenks swarmed half way up the ladder.

  "Yes, Iris?" he said.

  "I am not sure, but I imagine something moved among the bushes behindthe house."

  "All right, dear. I will keep a sharp look-out. Can you hear ustalking?"

  "Hardly. Will you be long?"

  "Another minute."

  He descended and told Mir Jan what the miss-sahib said. The native wasabout to make a search when Jenks stopped him.

  "Here,"--he handed the man his revolver--"I suppose you can use this?"

  Mir Jan took it without a word, and Jenks felt that the incident atonedfor previous unworthy doubts of his dark friend's honesty. TheMahommedan cautiously examined the back of the house, the neighboringshrubs, and the open beach. After a brief absence he reported all safe,yet no man has ever been nearer death and escaped it than he duringthat reconnaissance. He, too, forgot that the Dyaks were foxes, andfoxes can lie close when hounds are a trifle stale.

  Mir Jan returned the revolver.

  "Sahib," he said with another salaam, "I am a disgraced man, but if youwill take me up there with you, I will fight by your side until both myarms are hacked off. I am weary of these thieves. Ill chance threw meinto their company: I will have no more of them. If you will not haveme on the rock, give me a gun. I will hide among the trees, and Ipromise that some of them shall die to-night before they find me. Forthe honor of the regiment, sahib, do not refuse this thing. All I askis, if your honor escapes, that you will write to KurnalI-shpence-sahib, and tell him the last act of Mir Jan, _naik_ in Btroop."

  There was an intense pathos in the man's words. He made thisself-sacrificing offer with an utter absence of any motive save the oldtradition of duty to the colors. Here was Anstruther-sahib, of theBelgaum Rissala, in dire peril. Very well, then, Corporal Mir Jan, lateof the 19th Bengal Lancers, must dare all to save him.

  Jenks was profoundly moved. He reflected how best to utilize theservices of this willing volunteer without exposing him to certaindeath in the manner suggested. The native misinterpreted his silence.

  "I am not a _budmash_,[Footnote: Rascal.] sahib," he exclaimedproudly. "I only killed a man because--"

  "Listen, Mir Jan. You cannot well mend what you have said. The Dyaks,you are sure, will not come before morning?"

  "They have carried the wounded to the boats and are making the ladders.Such was their talk when I left them."

  "Will they not miss you?"

  "They will miss the _mussak_,[Footnote: Goatskin.] sahib. It wasthe last full one."

  "Mir Jan, do as I bid, and you shall see Delhi again, Have you everused a Lee-Metford?"

  "I have seen them, sahib; but I better understand the Mahtini."

  "I will give you a rifle, with plenty of ammunition, Do you go insidethe cave, there, and----"

  Mir Jan was startled.

  "Where the ghost is, sahib?" he said.

  "Ghost! That is a tale for children. There is no ghost, only a fewbones of a man murdered by these scoundrels long ago. Have you anyfood?"

  "Some rice, sahib; sufficient for a day, or two at a pinch."

  "Good! We will get water from the well. When the fighting begins atdawn, fire at every man you see from the back of the cave. On noaccount come out. Then they can never reach you if you keep a fullmagazine. Wait here!"

  "I thought you were never coming," protested Iris when Jenks reachedthe ledge. "I have been quite creepy. I am sure there is some one downthere. And, please, may I have another drink?"

  The sailor had left the crowbar beneath. He secured a rifle, a spareclip, and a dozen packets of cartridges, meanwhile briefly explainingto Iris the turn taken by events so far as Mir Jan was concerned. Shewas naturally delighted, and forgot her fears in the excitement causedby the appearance of so useful an ally. She drank his health in abrimming beaker of water.

  She heard her lover rejoin Mir Jan, and saw the two step out into themoonlight, whilst Jenks explained the action of the Lee-Metford.Fortunately Iris was now much recovered from the fatigue and privationof the earlier hours. Her senses were sharpened to a pitch littledreamed of by stay-at-home young ladies of her age, and she deemed ither province to act as sentry whilst the two men conferred. Hence, shewas the first to detect, or rather to become conscious of, the stealthycrawl of several Dyaks along the bottom of the cliff from Turtle Beach.They advanced in Indian file, moving with the utmost care, andcrouching in the murky shadows like so many wild beasts stalking theirprey.

  "Robert!" she screamed. "The Dyaks! On your left!"

  But Iris was rapidly gaining some knowledge of strategy. Before sheshrieked her warning she grasped a rifle. Holding it at the"Ready"--about the level of her waist--and depressing the muzzlesufficiently, she began firing down the side of the rock as fast as shecould handle lever and trigger. Two of the nickel bullets struck aprojection and splashed the leading savages with molten metal.

  Unfortunately the Lee-Metford beneath was unloaded, being in Mir Jan'spossession for purposes of instruction. Jenks whipped out his revolver.

  "To the cave!" he roared, and Mir Jan's unwillingness to face a goblincould not withstand the combined impetus of the sahib's order and theonward rush of the enemy. He darted headlong for the entrance.

  IRIS BEGAN FIRING DOWN THE SIDE OF THE ROCK AS FAST ASSHE COULD HANDLE LEVER AND TRIGGER.]

  Jenks, shooting blindly as he, too, ran for the ladder, emptied therevolver just as his left hand clutched a rung. Three Dyaks were soclose that it would be folly to attempt to climb. He threw the weaponinto the face of the foremost man, effectually stopping his onwardprogress, for the darkness made it impossible to dodge the missile.

  The sailor turned to dive into the cave and secure the rifle from MirJan, when his shin caught the heavy crowbar resting against the rock.The pain of the blow lent emphasis to the swing with which theimplement descended upon some portion of a Dyak anatomy. Jenks neverknew where he hit the second assailant, but the place cracked like aneggshell.

  He had not time to recover the bar for another blow, so he gave thepoint in the gullet of a gentleman who was about to make a vicioussweep at him with a parang. The downfall of this worthy caused hisimmediate successor to stumble, and Jenks saw his opportunity. With theagility of a cat he jumped up the ladder. Once started, he had to goon. He afterwards confessed to an unpleasant sensation of pins andneedles along his back during that brief acrobatic display; but hereached the ledge without further injury, save an agonizing twinge whenthe unprotected quick of his damaged finger was smartly rapped againstthe rock.

  These things happened with the speed of thought. Within forty secondsof Iris's shrill cry the sailor was breast high with the ledge andcalling to her--

  "All right, old girl. Keep it up!"

  The cheerful confidence of his words had a wonderful effect on her.Iris, like every good woman, had the maternal instinct strong withinher--the instinct that inspires alike the mild-eyed Sister of Charityand the tigress fighting for her cubs. When Jenks was down below there,in imminent danger of being cut to pieces, the gentle, lovable girl,who would not willingly hurt the humblest of God's creatures, becameterrible, majestic in her frenzied purpose. Robert must be saved. If aMaxim were planted on the rock she would unhesitatingly have turned thelever and sprayed the Dyaks with bullets.

  But here he was close to her, unhurt and calmly jubilant, as was hisway when a stiff fight went well. He was by her side now, firing andaiming too, for the Dyaks broke cover recklessly in running forshelter, and one may do fair work by moonlight, as many a hunter ofwild duck can testify by the rheumatism in his bones.

  She had strength enough left to place the rifle out of harm's waybefore she broke down and sobbed, not tearfully, but in a paroxysm ofreaction. Soon all was quiet beneath, save for the labored efforts ofsome wounded men to get far away from that accursed rock. Jenks wasable to turn to Iris. He endeavored to allay her agitation, andsucceeded somewhat, for tears came, and she clung to him. It wasuseless to reproach him. The whol
e incident was unforeseen: she washerself a party to it. But what an escape!

  He lifted her in his arms and carried her to a seat where the tarpaulinrested on a broken water-cask.

  "You have been a very good little girl and have earned your supper," hesaid.

  "Oh, how can you talk so callously after such an awful experience?" sheexpostulated brokenly.

  The Jesuits, say their opponents, teach that at times a "white lie" ispermissible. Surely this was an instance.

  "It is a small thing to trouble about, sweetheart," he explained. "Youspotted the enemy so promptly, and blazed away with such ferocity, thatthey never got within yards of me."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I vow and declare that after we have eaten something, and sampled ourremaining bottle of wine, I will tell you exactly what happened."

  "Why not now?"

  "Because I must first see to Mir Jan. I bundled him neck and crop intothe cave. I hope I did not hurt him."

  "You are not going down there again?"

  "No need, I trust."

  He went to the side of the ledge, recovered the ladder which he hadhastily hauled out of the Dyaks' reach after his climb, and cried--

  "Mir Jan."

  "Ah, sahib! Praised be the name of the Most High, you are alive. I wassearching among the slain with a sorrowful heart."

  The Mahommedan's voice came from some little distance on the left.

  "The slain, you say. How many?"

  "Five, sahib."

  "Impossible! I fired blindly with the revolver, and only hit one manhard with the iron bar. One other dropped near the wood after Iobtained a rifle."

  "Then there be six, sahib, not reckoning the wounded. I have accountedfor one, so the miss-sahib must have--"

  "What is he saying about me?" inquired Iris, who had risen and joinedher lover.

  "He says you absolutely staggered the Dyaks by opening fire the momentthey appeared."

  "How did _you_ come to slay one, Mir Jan?" he continued.

  "A son of a black pig followed me into the cave. I waited for him inthe darkness. I have just thrown his body outside."

  "_Shabash!_[Footnote: "Well done!"] Is Taung S'Ali dead, by anylucky chance?"

  "No, sahib, if he be not the sixth. I will go and see."

  "You may be attacked?"

  "I have found a sword, sahib. You left me no cartridges."

  Jenks told him that the clip and the twelve packets were lying at thefoot of the rock, where Mir Jan speedily discovered them. TheMahommedan gave satisfactory assurance that he understood the mechanismof the rifle by filling and adjusting the magazine. Then he went toexamine the corpse of the man who lay in the open near the quarry path.

  The sailor stood in instant readiness to make a counter demonstrationwere the native assailed. But there was no sign of the Dyaks. Mir Janreturned with the news that the sixth victim of the brief yet fierceencounter was a renegade Malay. He was so confident that the enemy hadhad enough of it for the night that, after recovering Jenks's revolver,he boldly went to the well and drew himself a supply of water.

  During supper, a feast graced by a quart of champagne worthy of theCarlton, Jenks told Iris so much of the story as was good for her: thatis to say, he cut down the casualty list.

  It was easy to see what had happened. The Dyaks, having missed theMahommedan and their water-bag, searched for him and heard theconversation at the foot of the rock. Knowing that their presence wassuspected, they went back for reinforcements, and returned by theshorter and more advantageous route along Turtle Beach.

  Iris would have talked all night, but Jenks made her go to sleep, bypillowing her head against his shoulder and smoothing her tangledtresses with his hand. The wine, too, was helpful. In a few minutes hervoice became dreamy: soon she was sleeping like a tired child.

  He managed to lay her on a comfortable pile of ragged clothing and thenresumed his vigil. Mir Jan offered to mount guard beneath, but Jenksbade him go within the cave and remain there, for the dawn would soonbe upon them.

  Left alone with his thoughts, he wondered what the rising sun wouldbring in its train. He reviewed the events of the last twenty-fourhours. Iris and he--Miss Deane, Mr. Jenks, to each other--were thenundiscovered in their refuge, the Dyaks were gathered around a roaringfire in the valley, and Mir Jan was keen in the hunt as the keenestamong them. Now, Iris was his affianced bride, over twenty of the enemywere killed and many wounded, and Mir Jan, a devoted adherent, wasseated beside the skeleton in the gloom of the cavern.

  What a topsy-turvy world it was, to be sure! What alternations betweendespair and hope! What rebound from the gates of Death to the thresholdof Eden! How untrue, after all, was the nebulous philosophy of Omar,the Tentmaker. Surely in the happenings of the bygone day there wasmore than the purposeless

  "Magic Shadow-show, Play'd in a Box whose Candle is the Sun, Round which we Phantom Figures come and go."

  He had, indeed, cause to be humbly thankful. Was there not One whomarked the fall of a sparrow, who clothed the lilies, who knew theneeds of His creatures? There, in the solemn temple of the night, hegave thanks for the protection vouchsafed to Iris and himself, andprayed that it might be continued. He deplored the useless bloodshed,the horror of mangled limbs and festering bodies, that converted thisfair island into a reeking slaughter-house. Were it possible, by anypersonal sacrifice, to divert the untutored savages from their deadlyquest, he would gladly condone their misdeeds and endeavor to assuagethe torments of the wounded.

  But he was utterly helpless, a pawn on that tiny chessboard where thegame was being played between Civilization and Barbarism. The fightmust go on to the bitter end: he must either vanquish or be vanquished.There were other threads being woven into the garment of his life atthat moment, but he knew not of them. Sufficient for the day was theevil, and the good thereof. Of both he had received full measure.

  A period of such reflection could hardly pass without a speculativedive into the future. If Iris and he were rescued, what would happenwhen they went forth once more into the busy world? Not for one instantdid he doubt her faith. She was true as steel, knit to him now by bondsof triple brass. But, what would Sir Arthur Deane think of hisdaughter's marriage to a discredited and cashiered officer? What was itthat poor Mir Jan called himself?--"a disgraced man." Yes, that was it.Could that stain be removed? Mir Jan was doing it. Why not he?--byother means, for his good name rested on the word of a perjured woman.Wealth was potent, but not all-powerful. He would ask Iris to waituntil he came to her unsoiled by slander, purged of this odium castupon him unmerited.

  And all this goes to show that he, a man wise beyond his fellows, hadnot yet learned the unwisdom of striving to lift the veil of tomorrow,behind whose mystic curtain what is to be ever jostles out of placewhat is hoped for.

  Iris, smiling in her dreams, was assailed by no torturing doubts.Robert loved her--that was enough. Love suffices for a woman; a manasks for honor, reputation, an unblemished record.

  To awake her he kissed her; he knew not, perchance it might be theirlast kiss on earth. Not yet dawn, there was morning in the air, for thefirst faint shafts of light were not visible from their eyrie owing toits position. But there was much to be done. If the Dyaks carried outthe plan described by Mir Jan, he had a good many preparations to make.

  The canvas awning was rolled back and the stores built into a barricadeintended to shelter Iris.

  "What is that for?" she asked, when she discovered its nature. He toldher. She definitely refused to avail herself of any such protection.

  "Robert dear," she said, "if the attack comes to our very door, so tospeak, surely I must help you. Even my slight aid may stem a rush inone place whilst you are busy in another."

  He explained to her that if hand-to-hand fighting were necessary hewould depend more upon a crowbar than a rifle to sweep the ledge clear.She might be in the way.

  "Very well. The moment you tell me to get behind that fence I will doso. Even there I can use a
revolver."

  That reminded him. His own pistol was unloaded. He possessed only fivemore cartridges of small caliber. He placed them in the weapon and gaveit to her.

  "Now you have eleven men's lives in your hands," he said. "Try not tomiss if you must shoot."

  In the dim light he could not see the spasm of pain that clouded herface. No Dyak would reach her whilst he lived. If he fell, there wasanother use for one of those cartridges.

  The sailor had cleared the main floor of the rock and was placing hisfour rifles and other implements within easy reach when a hiss camefrom beneath.

  "Mir Jan!" exclaimed Iris.

  "What now?" demanded Jenks over the side.

  "Sahib, they come!"

  "I am prepared. Let that snake get back to his hole in the rock, lest amongoose seize him by the head."

  Mir Jan, engaged in a scouting expedition on his own account,understood that the officer-sahib's orders must be obeyed. He vanished.Soon they heard a great crackling among the bushes on the right, butJenks knew even before he looked that the Dyaks had correctly estimatedthe extent of his fire zone and would keep out of it.

  The first physical intimation of the enemy's design they received was apungent but pleasant smell of burning pine, borne to them by thenortherly breeze and filling the air with its aroma. The Dyaks kindleda huge fire. The heat was perceptible even on the ledge, but theminutes passed, and the dawn broadened into day without any otherresult being achieved.

  Iris, a little drawn and pale with suspense, said with a timid giggle--

  "This does not seem to be so very serious. It reminds me of my effortsto cook."

  "There is more to follow, I fear, dear one. But the Dyaks are fools.They should have waited until night fell again, after wearing us out byconstant vigilance all day. If they intend to employ smoke it would befar worse for us at night."

  Phew! A volume of murky vapor arose that nearly suffocated them by thefirst whiff of its noisome fumes. It curled like a black pall over theface of the rock and blotted out sea and sky. They coughed incessantly,and nearly choked, for the Dyaks had thrown wet seaweed on top of theburning pile of dry wood. Mir Jan, born in interior India, knew littleabout the sea or its products, and when the savages talked of seaweedhe thought they meant green wood. Fortunately for him, the ascendingclouds of smoke missed the cave, or infallibly he must have beenstifled.

  "Lie flat on the rock!" gasped Jenks. Careless of waste, he pouredwater over a coat and made Iris bury her mouth and nose in the wetcloth. This gave her immediate relief, and she showed her woman's witby tying the sleeves of the garment behind her neck. Jenks noddedcomprehension and followed her example, for by this means their handswere left free.

  The black cloud grew more dense each few seconds. Nevertheless, owingto the slope of the ledge, and the tendency of the smoke to rise, thesouth side was far more tenable than the north. Quick to note thisfavorable circumstance, the sailor deduced a further fact from it. Abarrier erected on the extreme right of the ledge would be a materialgain. He sprang up, dragged the huge tarpaulin from its formerlocation, and propped it on the handle of the pickaxe, driven by onemighty stroke deep into a crevice of the rock.

  It was no mean feat of strength that he performed. He swung the heavyand cumbrous canvas into position as if it were a dust cloth. Heemerged from the gloom of the driven cloud red-eyed but triumphant.Instantly the vapor on the ledge lessened, and they could breathe, eventalk. Overhead and in front the smoke swept in ever-increasing density,but once again the sailor had outwitted the Dyaks' manoeuvres.

  "We have won the first rubber," he whispered to Iris.

  Above, beneath, beyond, they could see nothing. The air they breathedwas hot and foetid. It was like being immured in a foul tunnel andalmost as dark. Jenks looked over the parapet. He thought he coulddistinguish some vague figures on the sands, so he fired at them. Avolley of answering bullets crashed into the rock on all sides. TheDyaks had laid their plans well this time. A firing squad stationedbeyond the smoke area, and supplied with all the available guns,commenced and kept up a smart fusillade in the direction of the ledgein order to cover the operations of the scaling party.

  Jenks realized that to expose himself was to court a serious wound andachieve no useful purpose. He fell back out of range, laid down hisrifle and grabbed the crowbar. At brief intervals a deep hollow boomcame up from the valley. At first it puzzled them until the sailor hitupon an explanation. Mir Jan was busy.

  The end of a strong roughly made ladder swung through the smoke andbanged against the ledge. Before Jenks could reach it those hoisting itinto position hastily retreated. They were standing in front of thecave and the Mahommedan made play on them with a Lee-Metford at thirtyfeet.

  Jenks, using his crowbar as a lever, toppled the ladder clean over. Itfell outwards and disconcerted a section of the musketeers.

  "Well done," cried Iris.

  The sailor, astounded by her tone, gave her a fleeting glance. She wasvery pale now, but not with fear. Her eyes were slightly contracted,her nostrils quivering, her lips set tight and her chin dimpled. Shehad gone back thirty generations in as many seconds. Thus might one ofthe daughters of Boadicea have looked whilst guiding her mother'schariot against the Roman phalanx. Resting on one knee, with a revolverin each hand, she seemed no puling mate for the gallant man who foughtfor her.

  She caught his look.

  "We will beat them yet!" she cried again, and she smiled, not as awoman smiles, but with the joy of a warrior when the fray is toward.

  There was no time for further speech. Three ladders were reared againstthe rock. They were so poised and held below that Jenks could not forcethem backwards. A fourth appeared, its coarse shafts looming into sightlike the horns of some gigantic animal. The four covered practicallythe whole front of the ledge save where Mir Jan cleared a little spaceon the level.

  The sailor was standing now, with the crowbar clenched in both hands.The firing in the valley slackened and died away. A Dyak face, grinninglike a Japanese demon, appeared at the top of the ladder nearest toIris.

  "Don't fire!" shouted Jenks, and the iron bar crushed downwards. Twoothers pitched themselves half on to the ledge. Now both crowbar andrevolver were needed. Three ladders were thus cumbered somewhat forthose beneath, and Jenks sprang towards the fourth and most distant.Men were crowding it like ants. Close to his feet lay an emptywater-cask. It was a crude weapon, but effective when well pitched, andthe sailor had never made a better shot for a goal in the midst of ahard-fought scrimmage than he made with that tub for the head of theuppermost pirate.

  Another volley came from the sands. A bullet ploughed through his hair,and sent his sou'wester flying. Again the besiegers swarmed to theattack. One way or the other, they must succeed. A man and awoman--even such a man and such a woman--could not keep at bay aninfuriated horde of fifty savages fighting at close quarters and underthese grievous conditions.

  Jenks knew what would happen. He would be shot in the head or breastwhilst repelling the scaling party. And Iris! Dear heart! She wasthinking of him.

  "Keep back! They can never gain the ledge!" she shrieked.

  And then, above the din of the fusillade, the yells of the assailantsand the bawling of the wounded, there came through the air a screaming,tearing, ripping sound which drowned all others. It traveled withincredible speed, and before the sailor could believe his ears--for hewell knew what it meant--a shrapnel shell burst in front of the ledgeand drenched the valley with flying lead.

  Jenks was just able to drag Iris flat against the rock ere the timefuse operated and the bullets flew. He could form no theory, hazard noconjecture. All he knew was that a 12-pounder shell had flown towardsthem through space, scattering red ruin among the amazed scoundrelsbeneath. Instantly he rose again, lest perchance any of the Dyaksshould have gained a foothold on the ledge.

  The ladders were empty. He could hear a good deal of groaning, thefootsteps of running men, and some distant shouting.

  "Sa
hib!" yelled Mir Jan, drawn from his retreat by the commotionwithout.

  "Yes," shouted Jenks.

  The native, in a voice cracked with excitement, told him something. Thesailor asked a few rapid questions to make quite sure that Mir Jan wasnot mistaken.

  Then he threw his arms round Iris, drew her close and whispered--

  "My darling, we are saved! A warship has anchored just beyond the southreef, and two boats filled with armed sailors are now pulling ashore."

  And she answered proudly--

  "The Dyaks could never have conquered us, Robert. We were manifestlyunder God's protection. Oh, my love, my love, I am so happy andthankful!"