Dave surveyed the prospect in great curiosity. The roof resembled an arsenal. There were hundreds and hundreds of all kinds of spears, pikes, and darts.
Some were made up in bundles, some were leaning against the rising parapet as if slanted to catch the sunlight. In the center of the roof was a little raised platform. This held a lot of spears and darts, the heads resting in a big flat bowl full of some dark-colored liquid.
"There they are," announced Dave, glancing down at the spot where they had last seen his recent captors.
Daley, too, viewed the quartette. Two of them had fully recovered from their injuries. One was squatted on the ground, holding his head between his knees and rocking to and fro and moaning.
The fourth lay flat on the ground, still insensible, but the two able natives were rubbing him to restore him to consciousness.
"We're safe enough here," remarked Daley, with some satisfaction. "They can't possibly get in--they won't try."
"No, we seem to have a whole armory at our disposal," said Dave. "Stoodles taught me to use the dart pretty well."
"We could hold those fellows at bay for a long time."
"Just so," nodded Dave, "provided we are not starved out. You know it is folly to think of staying here if we can possibly get away. They would soon bring an army to surround us, and then all chances of escape would be gone."
"I knocked them out once," said Daley. "We'll try it again if you say so. It would be equal chances if those two cowards, Jones and Lewis, hadn't shown the white feather, after promising to join me and help me. The minute I pointed out the natives here to them, they cut stick for dear life."