But here the Dwarf surprised us again. With the litheness of a cat he picked the fallen man in his arms. He stood straight up holding him face towards the foe. He advanced step by step until he came to the edge of our defenses. Then he raised the man like a bundle in his arms. By this the lower part of his body was exposed. I trembled for a moment for I was certain that it was a vulnerable spot for an arrow.
His Countenance Was Black With Anger
My guess was right. An arrow came speeding at him. Its aim was as true as ever an aim was. The Dwarf’s eye was keen. In a twinkling he lowered the man so that his legs dragged on the ground. The arrow found its mark. It struck the fellow clean in the chest. So great was the force of it that the Dwarf staggered back a step to keep his footing. Then he let out a screech—a horrible sound that came from his throat and echoed in and out among the trees. With a heave as powerful as three strong men he raised the body of the dead man over his head and cast it far out over the wall. It turned and rolled. The arrow twisted under its side and it came to a stop at the foot of a tree.
“Come and get him!” the Dwarf cried. “You’re a fine lot who kill your own men!”
We were answered. As many arrows as a bird had feathers came shooting towards us. On the heels of them the men in the woods ran from their shelter, stringing fresh arrows as they came. The Dwarf began to bounce about like a toad. His hands moved twice as fast as ours. Before I had my bow to my shoulder he had brought a man down. The more excited he grew, the deeper his voice resounded in his throat and the more unearthly his screeches became. There was a savage instinct in him that led me to think he was hardly human.
The first of our assailants got as far as the wall. The Dwarf struck him over the heart and sent him tumbling back. A second followed. Charles made short work of him. Then there came three of them together. They had a daring recklessness in their eyes that told us they had made their calculations and would risk all to rout us from our wall. In their bravado they called to their companions in the rear to have no fear, that this assault would be the last, that they were going to make an end of us.
The Dwarf called to us to hold steady. He sent the foremost of them kicking to the ground. I took the second, while Charles, whose aim was true, dropped the third not a dozen feet from where we crouched. But that was not the end. The others had been roused to a feeling of desperation by our stubbornness. They kept on running. They shot their arrows one after the other so that it was a risk for any of us to show his head above the line of rocks.
The Dwarf gave another screech. Without a word to us he swung himself into the branches of the nearest tree and disappeared from sight. We were left alone, Charles and I, to make what we could of the attack. The first two were easy enough. The third limped away, wounded in the leg. The fourth (it was I who tried the shot) was only grazed along the wrist.
Then we were in for it. Three of our enemies got as far as the wall. The two foremost jumped over and made for us. The third fell as limp as a rag where he had been shot by the Dwarf in the back. I thought we were done for. To avoid a struggle hand to hand I ran with my body lowered to the far corner of our defenses. Charles moved more slowly in the opposite direction. Our separation had this advantage, the men could not pounce upon us two at a time and so singly overcome us.