It was a fortunate thing for our hero, but not so for the natives. Flinging their arms aside they sprang forward to bear him to the ground. But if they had orders not to harm him, he had no scruples in killing them. The fear of captivity and of its consequences was before him. He struck out blindly with his sword, and when that was jerked from his hand he opened fire with his revolver, his shots punctuating the shouts of his opponents. But it was a one-sided engagement, and the darkness was against his chances. Already he had almost been borne to the ground by a huge native, who had leaped on his shoulders. But a sudden turn, the shortening of his pistol arm, and a quick and effective shot, had relieved him of the burden. Then two of the enemy had snatched at his legs, while a third aimed for his back, and missed it by the merest chance. He was about to spring again, while others were there now prepared to take his place should he not succeed. Dick was helpless. He had fired his last cartridge, and though he used the butt of the revolver and his fist, he was already outmatched. The end came quickly. The native behind him caught his rifle in both hands, and then put out all his strength. Dick lost his balance, and dragged by the sling was soon in a heap on the ground.
“Captured! We have him! Tie his legs and carry him off before the other dogs can come!”
There was such a hubbub that the words were hardly heard; but the Ashantis knew what was required of them. They slipped a noose over his hands and shoulders, and were drawing it tight when there was a rush of feet in their direction.
“Dere! Dey here. Come long! Fire!”
Dick could not believe his ears. He was already being dragged away, when Johnnie’s voice broke upon his ear. Then a number of dark figures burst in upon his captors, and a fierce conflict began.
“Here I am. This way!” he shouted, as he struggled with the enemy. “Here! Over here!”
The gallant fellows from the stockade raced after him, Johnnie being at their head. In his hands he held a rifle, and without doubt it was his frantic wielding of this weapon which saved the situation. With a crash the stock fell upon the head of the native who had hold of our hero, causing him to fall. Another movement and the same fate overtook another. There was a scream of alarm, a few heavy blows struck by the knives of the men, and Dick was free, unharmed, and in their midst, boiling over with gladness and exultation. They picked him up as if he had been a child, and bore him in triumph to the stockade.
“Bang de door,” said Johnnie, taking upon himself the command of the station. “Now, yo men, jest put de massa down—so. Not throw him down, silly!”
Utterly oblivious of the fact that the Ashanti gold-miners could not understand, he gave his commands in a tone of comical haughtiness which at another time would have caused Dick to roar with laughter. This was, indeed, a new side to Johnnie’s character. But our hero was to learn more.
“Now man de walls, and shoot dem debils down,” shouted Johnnie, taking his rifle and running to an aperture. “Dat so. You quite understand. Den me see to massa.”