"Don't be too sure of it. These old shiros sometimes contain secret passages leading from the interior. They could fool us nicely if they should stumble across a tunnel running under the moat."
"Confound it! we can't remain here like two birds upon a limb," exclaimed Nattie, impatiently. "We'll have to make a dash for it. Come on; I'll lead."
He gathered himself together to dart across the fifteen feet of bridge, but before he could start a loud hail came from the forest to the north of the castle.
Looking in that direction, they saw Sumo advancing with a whole host of natives. There were at least forty in the party, and each appeared to be armed with some sort of weapon. There were ancient guns, long spears, swords, reaping hooks and a number of plain clubs.
With this martial array at his heels the giant porter approached the scene, bearing himself like a general at the head of a legion. As he walked, he flourished the sword given him by Mori, and kept up a running fire of orders to his impromptu command. At another time it would have been comical in the extreme, but under the circumstances, both Nattie and Mori hailed his appearance with joy.
Alas for their hopes!
"Courage, masters!" shouted Sumo. "Wait where you are. We will drive the scoundrels from their stronghold. March faster, my braves; get ready to charge."
But at that interesting moment the little army arrived opposite the entrance. "Bang, bang!" went Patrick's revolvers, and in the twinkling of an eye the whole forty natives took to their heels, bestrewing the road with a choice collection of farming implements, ancient swords and clubs.
Sumo had discretion enough to drop behind a stump, from which place of safety he watched the flight of his forces with feelings too harrowing to mention.