第 21 页

"If they had won a victory they would be shouting with triumph," said Arthur; "but they are yelling now as though they were angry."

Roden dashed to the loop-hole, and returned almost instantly breathless and frightened.

"The space in front of the fort is black with negroes," be panted. "They are screeching like wild cats, and I believe they are coming up."

An instant of alarmed silence followed these words and then a scuffling, rattling noise close by ended in the sudden appearance of Tombo's head and shoulders in the mouth of the cleft. It required an evidently painful effort for him to climb the last couple of steps. Then he fell forward on hands and knees, rose slowly to his feet, and staggered toward the anxious little group.

They stopped feeding the oil vessels, and shrank back in horror of his appearance.

The negro was breathing heavily, and with a rasp ing sound. His face was hideous with clotted blood from a knife-slash across his forehead, and his lion-skin tunic hung in tatters. Here and there on his abdomen and lower limbs were bleeding cuts, and in one hand he grasped a broken spear.

"You are badly hurt, my poor fellow," exclaimed Fanshawe. "What news do you bring? Quick!"

"Much bad," Tombo answered hoarsely. "Cannibals come plenty — fight hard —kill many people. Den king's men go mad because white king no come help — no put evil spell on cannibals. They say white king no more be good — they stop fight — good Karibegs be friends with cannibal Karibegs ——"

"Jove! that's terrible," exclaimed Bunbury.

"They've all fraternized together. The game is up, comrades. We're bound to be cooked and eaten."

"Him speak true," added Tombo, nodding at Bunbury. "Karibegs come quick up fort — no more believe miracle — they say white king means go off in airship."

Fanshawe uttered a deep groan, and wrung his hands in agony.

"So they have discovered our purpose," he cried. "It is terrible — terrible. But we won't give up yet. We must defend the deft. We must hold out long enough to inflate the balloon."

He ran into the tower, and brought out two long, heavy spears. He kept one himself, and gave the other to Tombo.

"You are armed," he said to his companions. "Your weapons are worth a score of spears."

"And we know how to use them, father," was Roden's grim reply.

He and Arthur pulled out their revolvers, and hastily loaded every chamber .

It was a thrilling and fearful moment. The howl ing of the Karibegs indicated that they had begun the ascent of the cleft. They were inflamed with rage and bloodshed, and their long-dormant appetites for human flesh were once more whetted.

"Be ready!" cried Fanshawe. "They will be here in two or three minutes. And no mercy need be expected if they once gain a foothold on top of the fort."

"There are plenty of loose blocks of masonry here," said Arthur. "We might roll them down the steps."

"That is worth trying," cried his father. "Yonder is one that must weigh a hundred pounds. Let us start it at once, and ——"

"Hold on!" interrupted Bunbury. "It is madness to fight against such odds. We will try the balloon, comrades. There is a faint hope of its rising to a level with the mountain tops. If not, we can't be worse off."

He had scarcely laid hold of the ropes to haul the balloon down when half a score of the cannibals swarmed out of the cleft uttering exultant cries.

They must have noiselessly preceded the main body, for the shouting indicated that the first were yet some distance down.

It was a trying blow to come just as Bunbury's words had given his companions fresh hope, but the little band grappled nobly and speedily with the emergency.

With Fanshawe and Tombo in the lead, they dashed forward and attacked the foe.

Every man of the Karibegs belonged to the royal body-guard, and even hatred could not overcome their superstitious fear of the white king.

They halted and wavered when they saw his great bulk charging upon them, and before they could rally one of their number had been run through the heart by Fanshawe's spear.

Tombo transfixed another, and then Bunbury and Roden each brought down a man. Arthur fired too high and missed.

The sharp reports of the revolver terrified the remaining six cannibals, and they fell back to the edge of the cleft.

Here Fanshawe and Tombo engaged in a hand-to- hand struggle, and quickly compelled three of the wretches to leap down upon the path.

The other three fought like demons, parrying every blow with wonderful skill.

For the time being Bunbury and the boys were helpless; they dared not fire for fear of hitting their friends.

It was a critical moment, and worse was to come. When the little handful of defenders saw a line of black heads mounting into view at the top of the cleft, and heard the ferocious yells of those who were pressing up from behind, they abandoned hope.

The knowledge that their friends were at hand incited the three cannibals on top of the fort to still more desperate valor.

By a quick upward thrust one of the ruffians broke Fanshawe's guard, and knocked the weapon out of his hand.

He was about to transfix the defenseless white king, when Tombo, who had seen all, rushed between the two, and the faithful negro received the deadly blow in his breast.

Fanshawe uttered a cry of agony as he saw Tombo stagger. The latter quickly recovered himself, and tore the spear from the gaping wound.

Then, with his last strength, he sprang at the Karibeg assassin, and clutched him by the throat. They staggered for an instant on the brink, and then they reeled down into the cleft, locked fast together.

This tragedy was followed by another, so swift and terrible, that it seemed as though Providence had chosen to avenge poor Tombo's death.

Above the yelling of the cannibals, a dull, sliding noise was heard. It grew rapidly, like the roar of an avalanche, and finally ended in one awful crash, ac companied by heartrending cries of agony.

A brief and thrilling silence succeeded. The two Karibegs remaining on the fort were overcome with terror.

They dropped their spears, and crouched tremblingly on the flagging, evidently believing that what they had just heard was a manifestation of the white king's supernatural powers.

Fanshawe and his companions knew better. When they saw that the swarm of black heads which had been in sight but a moment before had now vanished, a glimmer of the truth dawned upon them.

Timidly they crept to the side of the cleft and looked down. One glance told them all — showed them how miraculously they had been saved.

The pathway of steps had utterly vanished. The earth and masonry, weakened and decayed by the lapse of centuries, had given way under the tread of the climbing cannibals, and gone grinding down in a swift and mighty avalanche.

The victims that lay buried under it were probably to be numbered by the score, and among them was Tombo. It was a fitting tomb for the brave and unselfish Zanzibari, who had given his life to save his beloved master.

The effect of the catastrophe upon the surviving can nibals was one of pure rage.

* * *

Chapter XXXII

After the first shock was over, and they realized what had happened, they screeched and yelled so loudly as to drown the cries and groans of the mangled and yet living victims, who were only partly buried in the débris.

It was a blood-curdling volume of sound, but it no longer had power to terrify the little party upon the fort, as they looked down the cleft at the sea of savage faces, gleaming in the torchlight.

"Thank God!" cried Lucius Fanshawe, lifting his hands toward the sky. "He has saved us in time of need."

"Ay, it was a Providential accident," said Bunbury. "It can't be accounted for otherwise. And the slide has destroyed all means of communication. Yonder, where the last step came up, is now a sheer drop of fifty feet down to where the pile of ruins begins."

"It is unscalable," said Arthur. "The walls are smooth and straight."

"I'm sorry for the poor wretches who were killed," exclaimed Roden. "Many must have perished."

"Served them right," muttered his father. "It was a just penalty. They have murdered Tombo — the dear, good fellow who has served me all these years; and now he is dead — dead. He purposely intercepted that spear."

With a bitter groan Lucius Fanshawe sat down upon a block of stone, and covered his face with his hands.

His companions sympathized with him. They, too, were deeply moved by the vivid recollection of Tombo's tragic death.

"We should be thankful that his sacrifice was not in vain," said Bunbury. "We are as safe as though we were miles away from that bloodthirsty rabble below. They can't reach us without wings, for the fort is a sheer wall on all sides."

"That's true," replied Roden; "and the cleft is impassable. We can go quietly on with the gas-making now."

"And cut the balloon loose in an hour, or two, at the most," added Bunbury. "Howl, you bloody cannibals, howl till your throats split. You can't do any more!"

He leaned forward, and shook his clinched fist at the yelling mob far below.

Little did Bunbury and his companions dream of the fearful blow that fate had in store for them — which was even now about to fall, and change their fond hopes to the bitterest dregs of despair.

They had failed to reckon with an element that was close by — an element that they had forgotten, in fact.

During the past couple of minutes — for no greater time had elapsed since the fall of the avalanche — the two cannibals had been crouching, in a sort of frightened stupor, on the brink of the cleft.

Slowly it dawned upon them that they were cut off from their friends — that they were isolated beyond help, on the top of the fort, in the power of four enemies.

First they peered into the dizzy chasm, and drew back shuddering. Then, after exchanging a few low-spoken words, they sprang suddenly to their feet, uttering horrible cries.

This was the first intimation to the white men of the danger they had blindly overlooked, and it found them unprepared.

It was more by chance than skill that they were enabled to meet successfully the murderous attack of the two Karibegs.

One ruffian cast his spear straight at Fanshawe's stooping figure. Furious rage must have impaired his aim, for though the distance was but ten feet, the weapon merely grazed the white king's shoulder.

Fanshawe sprang up with a startled cry, and at the same instant Bunbury lifted his revolver and took a snap- shot at the would-be assassin.

It hit the fellow, but not in a vital part. He stopped short, with a screech of agony, and spun round several times, clawing at his left shoulder, from which blood was dripping.

The second cannibal meanwhile had dashed straight at Arthur and Roden, with his spear poised in one hand.

The boys were in imminent danger, being taken quite by surprise; they had no time to even whip out their revolvers.

With the instinct of preservation uppermost in their minds they tried to get out of the way. Arthur dodged, to one side, and Roden to the other.

The Karibegs swerved after the latter, and was just about to make the fatal thrust when Roden tripped on a projecting flagstone, and sprawled on hands and knees.

It was a lucky accident. The spear hit only empty air, and the madly-rushing negro was unable to avoid Roden's body. He struck it with a violence that pitched him over head first, and landed him in a heap.

By this time Arthur had wheeled around, and Bun bury, with his smoking revolver still in his hand, had turned to see what was going on.

Their help was sorely needed, for the fallen Karibeg quickly jerked himself to his feet, and snatched his spear, which was lying close by.

Then he limped toward Roden, as murderously in clined as ever. The lad had just begun to rise, and was evidently a little dazed and dizzy.

Bunbury took a quick, keen aim, and pulled the trigger. But only a dull snap followed; the cartridge had missed fire.

Then Arthur shot, but his trembling hand caused him to miss.

He uttered a cry of horror, which was echoed by Fanshawe and Bunbury. They expected to see Roden killed before their eyes.

And just that would have happened but for a most unforeseen and unexpected circumstance.

Nero, whose presence had been overlooked during the fight and its excitement, suddenly came to the conclu sion that help was urgently needed.

With an angry roar the lion shot through eight feet of space, and landed squarely upon the Karibeg just as the latter was about to drive his spear into Roden's back.

Man and beast went down together, and for an in stant there was a lively scuffle, accompanied by heart rending screams and ferocious snarls.

Then the lion seized the still struggling and yelling negro by the neck, and bounded with him across the fort to the deep shadow of the parapet.

The pitiful cries were heard for a few seconds longer. Then there was a fearful roar, and one agonizing scream — and all became still.

The spectators of the little tragedy were stirred to sympathy for the victim, but it had all transpired so quickly that they had no chance to help him.

Now it mattered little that another episode claimed their attention — since the unfortunate fellow had only too plainly received a finishing stroke from Nero.

This other episode was to prove the last and final part of Fate's crushing blow, and it came about in, this wise:

The surviving Karibeg, whose shoulder was broken by Bunbury's pistol ball, had fallen down in a quiver of agony.

Now, after witnessing the fate of his comrade, he staggered to his feet, and reeled toward his spear, which lay several yards off. His brutal face was distorted with rage and hate.

Bunbury saw the movement, and by a swift dash, he grabbed the weapon just as the negro was in the act of stooping for it.

Thereupon the baffled wretch gave a ferocious yell, dodged to one side, and sped like a deer toward the tower, evidently bent on seeking refuge in the interior chambers and passages of the fort.

Bunbury did not think of this. He scented danger to the balloon, and plunged instantly after the fugitive, followed closely by Fanshawe and the boys.

Then happened a terrible thing. The Karibeg, run ning blindly, did not observe the vessels of burning palm oil until he was right on top of them.

He jumped across two, and landed on the edge of the third, tipping it over, and falling down flat in the midst of the fiercely blazing fluid, which was spreading its fiery trail in all directions.