FOR a moment the familiar sound, heard in the trackless wilds of the underworld, set each man’s heart throbbing with a mad yearning for home.
Home! Would they ever again look upon the glorious blue of the vault of heaven? Ever more behold the glowing splendour of the sun? Would they again set eyes upon the white cliffs of the Homeland, whose shores they had left so full of hope and enthusiasm?
Like the death-knell of their hopes rang the thrilling cry of their enemies as they moved once more to the attack.
But their two previous receptions had taught the wolf-men a lesson. No mad charge did they make this time. Evidently they had conceived a wholesome dread of firearms. Stealthily the creatures crept forward, seeming to wonder why the fire-weapons of these mighty white strangers were silent.
When they discovered that the rifles were not only silent, but useless, the end would not be long in coming.
The glare from the fire gulf lit up the hideous features of the savages with startling effect, giving them an even more diabolical expression, if that were possible. Nearer they came, gaining courage with every yard they advanced, their bloodshot eyes rolling horribly. Then suddenly, in a veritable living avalanche, they hurled themselves upon the gallant quartette.
The rifle butts rose and fell with sickening monotony, and at each stroke a wolf-man crashed to earth. The knives flashed like lightning through the crimson glare as Wilson and the scientist flung themselves pell-mell into the combat.
The engineer, plunging his weapon into the breast of a savage, tore the spear from his grasp, and fell to with this new tool with tremendous energy. Back and forth the struggling group swayed, one moment perilously close to the brink of the fire gulf, the next many yards away.
But the fight was too hot to last.
Slowly the four were beaten backward; then Wilson went down with a jagged wound in his thigh, and Mervyn, stumbling over his prostrate body, was struck senseless by a blow from the flat of a spear.