He got a hand over Cliff’s mouth.
Then Tom came running, there was the shot. Huayca tried to fling Cliff away, to escape and hide; but Cliff, too, had determination. He clung to his assailant!
Then, at the shot, there rose from the pass the angry, ominous roar of many voices.
The Andes growled over their prey!
Everybody was awake on the higher level. They all came running, Tom first. He caught Huayca in a tackle that helped to upset both struggling adversaries; but, striking sideways, he sent them to the turf with Cliff uppermost. Nicky piled on, then, and there was no chance of Huayca rising right away, squirm though he might.
Bill, when he came pelting, wasted no time: he saw the gleam of bright steel, for Huayca’s knife came from Spain. Bill saw that it was no time for niceness. He kicked Huayca’s wrist and with his screech of a wounded leopard Huayca’s wrist became limp; Bill snatched the weapon from the ground.
Mr. Whitley was there by that time. It took very little longer to trice up Huayca, a snarling, defeated Indian.
They peered over the ledge cautiously, but there was nothing to see: the pass was like a deep well, jet black, impenetrable. They dragged Huayca back to the hut, tried to force from him the secret of the pass, but he would not speak. Bill hinted at some methods a little more forceful but both Mr. Gray and Mr. Whitley demurred. Dawn would soon be upon them: they were all wide awake, and, dividing into two groups, one with Bill’s rifle, the other with two revolvers, each led by the older men, they watched at the cleft and near the ledge.
Beneath them those on the ledge could hear mutterings and growls, as of angered animals.
“It sounds as though there were lions down there,” said Nicky.