Grenville waited for him, deliberately. Just as the fellow lunged actively forward, Sidney thrust the hideous effigy of a human being into the arms and against the face of his wildly stabbing assailant and nimbly leaped towards the trail.
A sound of horror broke from the Dyak's lips as he rolled on the earth with the skeleton rattling down upon him. But a brief time only was he prostrate there with his terror. Uttering screams as shrill as a woman's and darting swiftly to meet his crew of men, who suddenly swarmed from the thicket, he headed a wild, fanatic pursuit where Grenville was speeding for the terrace.
CHAPTER XXXIII
THE GIRL BEHIND THE GUN
Alone on the hill, and already strung to the highest tension of dread by Grenville's long absence, after what he had said of a prompt return, Elaine had been struck with alarm to the core of her being, as the various sounds came clearly up from the jungle about the disintegrated wreck.
It was fears for Sidney, not for herself, that had finally possessed her fluttering heart as the muffled shot and subsequent cries floated uncertainly from down there in the darkness. She knew that Grenville had no gun, and was, therefore, certain it was he who must have suffered a wound.
With a blazing torch she had run to the edge of the terrace, to light Sidney home, if, by any bare chance, he had escaped. She was there, transfixed by apprehension, when at length, with cries like a pack of wolves, the Dyaks came racing towards the clearing.
Meantime Grenville had gained a considerable lead of the devils on his heels, and, on passing the spring, had caught a glimpse of Elaine with her brand of fire. He paused for a second to shout essential directions, lest she might have forgotten in her plight.
"Don't fire, Elaine, till you see them on the trail!"