"Follow me! Run for your life; we'll do the beggars yet!"
As he spoke—his face was pale no longer, and his eyes were blazing—he darted off, closely followed by George, to the old course of the stream. They wildly tore through the tangled scrub, heedless of the wounds their arms and faces received, and leaped madly across the new channel of the rapid stream.
"Make haste!" shrieked Alec, his voice shrill with excitement.
"What to do?" gasped George.
Without pausing Alec plunged waist deep into the water that their embankment retained, and shouted—
"Burst the dam!"
Alec followed, and the two together began to push and beat and tear at the stones they had so carefully built up a day or two before.
But had they built too firmly? would the heavy rocks never give way? Already the first man is breast high above the edge of the cliff; others are close behind him. If once they get on to their feet the boys know they are dead men. The two lads work like maniacs; they know that death is but a yard or two away. Their hands are bleeding on the jagged edges of the stones; they do not feel it; their muscles are strained till their limbs are like iron, and the veins stand out like cords in their necks and on their temples, and they know nothing of it.
Push harder, lads; tear down the stones; do not die at the hands of these butcher blacks!
It is useless; the dam stands firm.