"Hey, old scout," hailed the boy, "give them a dose of dornicks."
Schneider took the hint with a burst of approbation.
"Two heads are better than one," he facetiously declared, hauling off his greatcoat for greater freedom as a heaver.
A dozen or more of the pursuing party were working up the acute elevation when the first huge stone thundered down the incline. The boulder made as clean a sweep as a well-placed ball in a bunch of ninepins.
"A ten-strike!" whooped Schneider. "Set 'em up again in the other alley!"
The Russians back-tracked for a time, finding a better range to fire at the defenders on the mountainside, and such was the fusillade that Schneider and Henri were compelled to stay in cover to save their skins.
"They can't work that game, though, to support a scaling force," said Schneider, "for the same fire would catch the scalers. If they come any nearer we can fix them, all right. But what a mercy it is that they haven't a field gun with them."
"As it is, we can't stave them off very long," added Henri. "When it gets dark the stone-rolling game won't work."
"Let me tell you, young man, when that hour comes, all they'll find here will be an empty nest."