“No, no, my boy,” panted his father, as he dashed up with presented rifle. “We must have no bloodshed.”
“But we must drive them back,” cried the doctor sternly, as he made the locks of his rifle click.
While these words were being spoken, the blacks, who had been startled by the appearance of the new-comers and drawn back for the moment, began to advance again, but only to receive another check caused by the clicking of first one and then the other rifle; but as nothing followed this they again, all moving as if by the same influence, took another step forward as if to get a little closer before hurling their spears.
At that moment the shrill piercing note of Mark’s whistle rang out, as he blew with all his might a loud and ear-ringing call, the appointed signal that he knew would bring help from all by whom it was heard.
This checked the blacks again, and one or two made an uneasy movement as if to retreat; but this was stopped by a fierce yell from their leader, the black who had received Mark’s blow, and all began again to advance with dancing movements which at another time would have excited mirth, but which Mark read rightly as being the savages’ self-exciting gestures prior to a rush.
“Guns,” whispered the boy to his cousin. “I’ll stay.”
Dean hesitated for a moment, and then dashed off to fetch the weapons from the rough rack where they hung ready for use, leaving Mark with his eyes running from black to black with the intent of seizing an opportunity to snatch a spear if he could see a chance.
“I’m afraid we must fire,” said Sir James, in a low hoarse voice which was almost drowned by the fierce yellings of their enemy. “I’ll fire first—over their heads. You follow.”
As Sir James spoke he raised his rifle, and drew trigger, there was a sharp pat from the top of the wall above the heads of the blacks, and the report raised a peal of echoes from the surrounding ruins. So startling were the sounds that the blacks stopped short.
“Now!” cried Sir James, and the doctor fired in the direction of the highest pile, which sent back a roar, and the report seemed to have loosened one of the great needles of rock which had stood up for ages on the top of a loose ridge, and now came down, bringing with it quite an avalanche of stones, with such a thunderous crash that the blacks turned and fled, yelling with horror, while Mak and Pig, who were coming from where they had been sleeping in the sunshine, dropped upon their knees, the Pig following this up by creeping among the bushes that were left standing, and hiding his little head, ostrich-like, in the darkest part.