Part 33 (2/2)
”You can go now, Mr. Phineas,” came in a quiet voice from close beside him, and, looking down, he saw Sadie, her cheeks pale perhaps, but her eyes and her lips steady. ”Go,” she said. ”I will watch behind you, and will call if there is need.”
Phineas gripped her hand promptly, and ran forward. By then his own little party had joined Jim's, and were aiding them with their rifles.
Indeed the rattle of the weapons was deafening, while anyone could see that the enemy were suffering. But the natives hardly seemed to know what fear was, while Jaime and his fellow robbers showed splendid pluck.
Nothing stopped them. They leaped over the bodies of their fallen comrades, and came racing forward, their eyes blazing, their weapons brandished over their heads. In an incredibly short s.p.a.ce of time they were within ten yards of the spot where the defenders lay.
”Time for revolvers,” shouted Jim. ”Up on your feet--revolvers and clubbed rifles!”
The scene which followed was almost too rapid for description, for the leaders of the attacking party threw themselves on Jim and his men with a ferocity and a quickness which were appalling. Revolvers snapped on every hand, while two of the policemen clubbed their rifles and dealt swinging blows. It was left to the huge Tom to relieve the situation.
Rifle in hand, he sprang over the intervening boulders and launched himself upon the attackers with a howl of rage. His huge mouth was opened wide, displaying a set of formidable teeth, while his muscular arms swept the rifle round in huge circles, laying the enemy low for all the world as if it were a scythe. Then he pursued his old and favourite tactics. He hurled the weapon at one of the white men, and, leaping forward, gripped Jaime round the waist. The rascal was whirling in the air in a second, and within the s.p.a.ce of three had been thrown into the centre of his supporters.
”Bravo, Tom, bravo!” shouted Jim, rus.h.i.+ng to join him, with Ching and Sam close at hand.
The enemy were more terrified by Tom's presence and appearance than by all the bullets. They turned as Jim came forward and fled for their lives, dragging Jaime with them. A minute later the defenders were behind their boulders once more, breathing heavily, while the fusillade of musket b.a.l.l.s had again opened from the fringe of the jungle. Still the enemy were not beaten. As the dawn came they showed at the edge of the forest, and with shouts of triumph announced that they had received reinforcements. Indeed, within a few minutes Jim saw that at least a hundred men were crouching just within the shadow. Then there came another shock, which set his heart palpitating.
”More of the varmint,” suddenly announced Tomkins, swinging round and pointing to a spot behind the party, where, up till now, they had seen no enemy. ”Gee, if there ain't two hundred against us!”
He dashed across the hollow, threw himself on his face, and levelled his rifle. But he never pulled the trigger: Jim stopped him peremptorily. A single figure suddenly pushed to the front of this second mob of natives, and advanced a few paces bearing a white flag. He waved it and shouted. Then, followed by his men, he came running towards Jim and his fellows.
CHAPTER XIX
Jim Meets with a Surprise
It was an exciting and an anxious moment for Jim and his comrades as they saw the strangers bounding towards them, and for one brief instant our hero hesitated, wondering whether he ought to respect the white flag which the leader of this new band bore. He had already arrested Tomkins's intention of firing on them, and now peremptorily restrained the others.
”Stop!” he shouted. ”Not a shot. I believe they are friends. Why, as I live, if that isn't a white man at their head!”
But the light just now was not so good as it had been. The moon was waning, and the dawn half broken. In consequence, though the party anxiously watching the strangers from the rocky eminence could make out their numbers, and each individual member of the band, they could distinguish nothing more than that. Phineas drew in a deep breath. He had learned to trust Jim's judgment, but on this occasion he feared greatly that he was making a gigantic error.
”Gee!” he cried in anxious tones. ”Supposing they are enemies like the rest. They will cut us to pieces. Get ready to shoot, you men.”
”By de poker, but if dey not friends, den Tom talk to them same as he talk wid de oders,” growled the negro. ”But me tink Ma.s.sa Jim right; Ma.s.sa Jim neber make mistake.”
It was like the huge fellow to support his young master, of whom he had an absurdly high opinion; but Sam and Ching were just as emphatic.
”Not need fear rumpus any longer,” said the former, dropping the b.u.t.t of his weapon to the ground. ”Ma.s.sa Jim know what him talking about. No flies on him anyway.”
”He, he, he! Velly nice for dis party,” lisped the Chinaman. ”A minute ago me tink soon hab ebelyting ober. Soon be chopped to little pieces, same as Ching chop de meat for de stew. But now ebelyting jolly. Yo see precious soon. Ching knowee well dat dat a white man. Him seen him before; him know de movement of him legs. Him and Ching great friends some time ago.”
Could it be true? Even Jim, as he anxiously watched the approaching band, and with no little doubt as to their friendly intentions, could not fail to observe that the leader, who in the dim light had the appearance of being a white man, certainly walked in a manner with which he was familiar. The swift fling of the legs reminded him of someone; but whom? Where had he known that someone? That was the question. Less than a minute later he was staggering backwards as if someone had struck him a heavy blow. As for the strangers, there was now no doubt that a white man led them. A tall, thin young man, with somewhat cadaverous cast of countenance, halted within ten paces of the party, still waving his white banner, and gave vent to a cry of astonishment, a cry which Jim echoed. Then Sadie, half-hidden behind the men of her party, pushed her way resolutely through them, ran forward, and gazed at the man. In an instant she had thrown herself upon him.
”Jim!” she screamed; ”it's George, George come back to life! George alive, when we thought he was dead in the jungle.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”IT'S GEORGE, GEORGE COME BACK TO LIFE!”]
The meeting staggered our hero. He could hardly believe that it could be his brother, he whom they had lost in the jungle now so long ago. Even the strong grip which George gave him failed to convince.
”How's it happened?” demanded Jim. ”We settled that you were dead, that the fever had killed you, and that you had fallen in some hollow in the jungle. Who are all these men here? How is it that you have turned up right away at the very instant when help is wanted? My head is all of a whirl: I guess I'm getting silly.”
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