At that moment one of the half grown native girls ran with a cry of fear to Rosa. She pointed back toward the far side of the ridge, where a man was scrambling up to the settlement.
There was no time to hide away. Terry and Prim stood face to face with Bud Hyslop.
Bud laughed as he had seen Joe Arnold do, a sarcastic, triumphant laugh. He moved toward the girls aggressively, but Rosa was by their side and was shoving them gently but firmly backward.
“You’re to come with me, girls!” exclaimed Bud. “Hurry up and get going! I’ve got you now!”
Rosa pulled them back with a vigorous hand as Bud rushed at them. But his foot slipped, he stumbled and sprawled headlong for a second then went sliding down through the earth. For Rosa had cleverly moved around the straw mats in a straight line from Bud, and when he charged at them, the force of his stride sent him slipping and sliding down the slippery walls of the cave. He did not stop until he had bumped all the way down and splashed into the dark waters below.
“Help, help!” he cried. “You black rascals, get me out of here!”
A young native hauled him out to safety. Bud was half stunned and glad enough to stay in the cave for a little while until he could think what to do. He finally called Terry, but the girl refused to go down into the cave to talk to him.
Hour after hour slipped by. Bud saw none of the brilliant colors of the crystals. He was sore and disgusted, his plans had all gone wrong, and instead of being praised by Joe, he would be despised and blamed and ridiculed.
A strong guard was placed at the opening of the cave and Terry and Prim could enjoy the air. Muggy and oppressive though it was, it was better than the stifling closeness of the hut.
Rosa glowed with triumph, taking all the credit to herself for trapping Bud, and for the rest of the day she was in high spirits, commanding the young blacks as if they were her slaves.