In the meantime, Hal and Stephan kept up a steady fire with their rifles, pouring a hail of bullets in the direction of the advancing Germans. One man fell, but the others dashed on.
At this point Hal made a startling discovery. The magazine of his weapon was empty and he had not another cartridge. At the same moment Stephan fired his last remaining shot. Hal sprang forward and seized the weapon Alexis had thrown down when he dashed to Chester’s aid. It was empty. The lad uttered a cry of dismay, and turned his eyes. The two still had their revolvers, but the distance was too great for a pistol bullet.
Alexis, having reached Chester’s side, knelt and raised the lad’s head to his knee. Hurriedly he drew his canteen and poured a little water down his throat. Chester looked up into the Cossack’s face and smiled feebly. Alexis tried to place him upon his feet, but the lad was too weak to stand.
A fierce growl from Marquis, who had been standing guard over the two, with bared fangs and bristling back, called Alexis to more serious work. The Germans, apparently fearing nothing at the hands of one man, a wounded boy and a dog, had come within fifty feet without firing a shot at the trio. Now, as they approached closer, the leader of the band called out: “You are my prisoners!”
Without waiting to reply, Alexis leaped toward them. His sword flashed from his scabbard and whirled aloft even as he jumped. He was among the enemy before they realized what had happened.
The suddenness of the giant’s spring stood him in good stead. Before a rifle or a revolver could be brought to bear on the huge form, Alexis had come to such close quarters with his foes as to prevent the use of firearms. The German leader did draw his revolver, but the mêlée was so fierce and men were tangled up so that he was unable to fire for fear of hitting one of his own men.
To the right, to the left, and straight ahead darted the fiery sword of the giant Cossack. The Germans gave back before the very savageness of this attack, but Alexis kept close in among them, for while he was fighting mad, he was still cool enough to realize that his hope of life lay in his keeping in the center of the enemy.
Before the thrust of the angry sword three men fell. The blades of the others who encircled him hissed above his head, flashed by his side, but his single weapon so far had formed a perfect barrier. Not a thrust or a slash had passed it. Ten swords clashed against the giant’s blade at once. With a quick move, he swept them all aside, and with a quick thrust disposed of another of the enemy.
With a rapid spring forward he avoided the weapons that would have been buried in his back by his foes in the rear, and sweeping his sword around his head with such rapidity that he seemed a circle of fire, for a moment he cleared a space around him.
But in that instant the German officer brought his revolver to bear and fired.