"You'll have to make an example of him! Shall I come down?"
"Wait a bit. My electric torch has given out. Have you got a match?"
"Not one. There's a box among our stores, though. I'll get it and bring it down to you."
He went to the room where the stores were kept. Meanwhile Royce, always impatient, passed through the opening in the wall and began to creep slowly along the tunnel.
Challis, having found a box of matches, was returning to the well when he was amazed to see a black, fuzzy head appear over the coping. For a moment he imagined that it belonged to one of Royce's own men whom he had routed out of the tunnel, but at a second glance he realised his mistake. The man's black cheeks bore Rabeh's telltale scars. It was Goruba.
GORUBA CLIMBS THE WELL
With a shout, Challis dashed forward. Goruba's shoulders were now above the coping. In his right hand he bore a knife, and his eyes gleamed with rage. Challis was unarmed. His only chance was to deal with the negro before he had fully emerged from the well.
Shooting out his right arm, he brought his fist with sledge-hammer force upon Goruba's brow, between the eyes, just as the man was about to launch himself over the coping. The negro staggered back, lost his balance, and fell head over heels into the well. There was a thud, then a splash—and then Royce's voice from the opening: