Anitoo made a desperate lunge with his pike at the man beside him. But the latter was too quick for him. Dodging the blow, Raoul managed to wrest the pike from his grasp. There was a tigerish struggle between the two men, shouts of fury and triumph from those looking on. Then, overpowered by the number of his assailants, and mortally wounded, Anitoo fell to the ground. He had been so certain of the defeat of his antagonists that this sudden turn in his fortunes filled him, even at the approach of death, with the gloomiest forebodings.
“Ah! my poor queen—lost!” he gasped with his last breath.
Raoul snatched the torch from the dead man’s tunic and waved it above his head.
“You will be free men now,” he cried, “not miserable bats in a cave!”
Those of his hearers who understood his words, spoken in Spanish, repeated them to the others in their own language. There was wild cheering, in which the two followers of Anitoo joined—amazed at their leader’s fate—and then a rush for the great gateway. But this impulsive movement of his men did not agree with Raoul’s hastily conceived plan of conquest. Delighted by his easily won victory, coming to him in the very hour of defeat, he had no mind to leave Anitoo’s hostile troops in his rear—especially as he heard them approaching from the outer cave, and could even catch the first glimmer of their torches.
“Stop!” he commanded. “We need these men. Better to have them friends than enemies. They will come with us. Some of you warn them—tell them what has happened.”
His followers, halted in their eager flight, looked at Raoul in amazement. Then, hurriedly repeating to each other what he had said, they suddenly broke into another cheer, while two of their number, in obedience to Raoul’s orders, ran towards the approaching troops.
At first the two rebels were met with a flourish of pikes and angry cries that boded ill for their safety. When they succeeded in making themselves heard, however, explaining what had happened and pointing to the dead body of Anitoo in confirmation of Raoul’s victory, the cavemen checked their hostile demonstrations, looking from one to the other of the men before them, and then to the little group surrounding Raoul, in astonishment. They had the most exaggerated trust in Anitoo’s wisdom and prowess; that he could be vanquished by any one impressed them mightily. The death of their leader was, indeed, a potent argument in favor of the man who had killed him. What did this victorious stranger intend to do now? they asked each other. Then the foremost of them put the question to the two rebels, who answered with contagious enthusiasm:
“He will free us! The wealth of the Condor will be ours! We will have the world—not a cave—to live in!”