They seemed to comprehend him instantly. They uttered a low growl and crouched close to the edge of the pit. Their red-rimmed eyes were fixed on the boyish form lying at the bottom.
The creatures were vicious to a degree; in fact, Manuello used them in fighting, the scene of the brutal sport being the pit in which Nat now lay.
“Humph!” said Captain Lawless, as he regarded the two dogs, “those fellows are better than human guards. If that boy ever escapes from them, he’ll be——”
“Look out!” yelled Durkee suddenly.
An astonishing thing had happened. Nat’s limp form had suddenly galvanized into aggressive, fighting life.
He sprang erect like a flash, and in one bound was out of the pit. Another instant, and his fist was crashing into Lawless’s face. The man, taken utterly off his guard, reeled backward, waving his arms wildly.
He fell into the pit with a crash and lay still.
Before Durkee could recover from his amazement, he, too, had joined him. There remained only the two Spanish-Americans for Nat to face. But they had had more time to prepare themselves. Both brandished wicked-looking knives as the boy came at them.
Moreover, the dogs had now awakened to the situation. With frantic yaps and snarls, they sprang at Nat.
The lamp which had lighted their progress to these lower regions stood on the ground. Nat saw in it a weapon of necessity. Snatching it up, he swung it round his head and then sent it crashing at the brutes as they leaped for his throat.