Adventure, August 1917 — page 146: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

144 like a pendulum. It was no easy task for Loudon or Serena to hit the leaping, dodg- ing targets while they hurled rocks and clumps of brush. As they pushed on, the slopes became steeper and forced them to descend to the center of the gulch. Bristol blundered by them, running heav- ily, blood streaming from his forehead. The man just behind him tripped and, with a yell, a warrior jumped for him, bringing down his club with a sickening thud. Loudon fired and the bullet struck fairly the top of the savage’s bowed head, ranging through brain to spine and sending the man headlong on his victim. His two allies were close up and Loudon pulled trigger again. ‘There was no response. He had fired his last cartridge. He heard a sort of sob from the girl. . “I’ve fired my last,’’ she said. “So have I. Run, for sake The first warrior was upon him. He clutched his rifle by the barrel and swung it. The native parried it with a blow from his club that broke the gunstock off short and left Loudon’s arms tingling with momentary paralysis. The warrior’s club lofted again and Lou- don stooped swiftly, diving in at the other’s knees and bringing him down heavily, springing free and grabbing the club of the man he had just shot. It was of heavy Ironwood, beaked with a deeply imbedded shell, so beautifully balanced that it seemed to weigh no more than a cane. The savage had rolled swiftly over and was up again but Loudon’s blow descended on his shoulder-blade, the cone of the shell tearing through the flesh and shattering the bone. As he pitched forward, Loudon brought up his mace backhanded and smashed home just above the ear. His soul had jumped back centuries, the spirit of his wild, sea-roving ancestor was strong within him and he exulted in the fury of the fight. His teeth were clenched and his lips drawn back while he caught himself shouting incoherent syllables as the next warrior lunged at him with a stab- bing spear. He side-stepped it as he would a blow in the boxing ring and whirled his new-found weapon down upon the man’s forearm. The spear fell but the savage slid in and Loudon felt his arms about his ribs, lithe and unbreakable as strips of tempered steel. He tore at them but the man’s body 199 Adventure was oiled and his fingers slipped on the taut muscles while his ribs cracked and he could feel his feet lifting from the ground. Over the other’s shoulder his dimming eyes saw three more warriors only a few yards away and beyond them a hazy body of men tumbling over the rim of the crater. He could taste blood in his throat, his brain reeled—he was a child in the arms of the islander. Suddenly the warrior gave a great gasp and the grip of his arms relaxed, still ring- ing Loudon as the other wilted first to his haunches and then to the ground. Loudon, dizzy with the pressure on his lungs, stepped back, forcing his will to clear. his choked arteries. His sight came back and strength returned with gulps of fresh air. Serena stood beside him, a javelin in her hand, the blade red with the blood of the native who lay writing feebly with a gash in his side below the ribs. A spear sung between them and thudded into the dirt. Loudon’s shadow, lengthened before the rising sun, almost reached the hurtling body of the nearest warrior. Two more were at his heeis. Loudon had lost his club, he could not defend them both. In his swift look for the weapon he saw a fragment of lava loose upon the soil. It was roughly spherical and about the size of a baseball. He picked it up and snapped it from him. It struck the islander squarely between the eyes just as a spear left his hand, and the man crashed down likea log. His fellow tripped over him and the third half fell at the human hurdle while Loudon turned and grasped the girl’s hand, shouting to her to run. They fled down the gulch spurred by shouts behind them. The sergeant had reached the main force which was fighting far down the ravine. Midway Mrs. Gower awaited them, clutching the automatic which she handed back to Loudon as, scat-. tering her dignity to the winds, she picked up her skirts and sprinted. So far, the day was Rotorua’s. As the three came close they could see his men leaping on the edge of the precipice, strik- ing blows at despairing foes who reeled on the verge and then fell headlong. Once in a while two went down interlocked in a death grapple, whirling into the gulf. Some thirty of the king’s men remained the vic- tors. The rest of their force, and practically all of Toruki’s opposing section, were either CoOMmiclsoo C© 5}