The scuffle lasted for only part of a minute. It worked its way across the drawbridge to the outside of the walls, and Nick was bringing his assistant with him to safety.
Then, as the high priest saw his men had failed in their attempt to capture Chick, he gave the order to raise the drawbridge.
The ponderous contrivance flew up, hurling back the spearmen, but leaving Nick Carter and his men outside.
“Bull luck!” ejaculated Patsy. “That’s what it is. Couldn’t have done it better myself.”
“Don’t talk! Run!” was Nick Carter’s brief order.
They had a clear field now. It was not easy to let the drawbridge down again, because so many of the Bolongus were tangled up in the chains.
Moreover, Calaman did not know for a few minutes that his intended victims had escaped.
When he did find it out and gave the order for the bridge to be lowered, the white men and their two Indian followers were far across the valley and had taken refuge in the hills.
“I guess we’re safe enough now, Carter!” ejaculated Jefferson Arnold, with a chuckle. “My! That was a hot time we had! What I can’t understand is why some of those fellows with spears didn’t get us all toward the end of the scrap. They had every chance, it seemed to me.”
“They wanted us alive. That was all,” returned Nick. “Where’s Leslie?”