As they trudged on an opening in the forest appeared ahead of them
shortly after noon. It was almost treeless and covered with a thick
growth of tall grass higher than a man's head.
"That certainly looks good," remarked Orman. "We ought to make a little
time for a few minutes."
The leading truck forged into the open, flattening the grass beneath
its great tires.
"Hop aboard the trucks!" Orman shouted to the advance guard and the axe
men. "Those beggars won't bother us here; there are no trees to hide
them."
Out into the open moved the long column of cars. A sense of relief from
the oppressive closeness of the forest animated the entire company.
And then, as the rearmost truck bumped into the clearing, a shower
of arrows whirred from the tall grasses all along the line. Savage
war cries filled the air; and for the first time the Bansutos showed
themselves, as their spearmen rushed forward with screams of hate and
blood lust.
A driver near the head of the column toppled from his seat with an
arrow through his heart. His truck veered to the left and went
careening off into the midst of the savages.
Rifles cracked, men shouted and cursed, the wounded screamed. The
column stopped, that every man might use his rifle. Naomi Madison
slipped to the floor of the car. Rhonda drew her revolver and fired
into the faces of the onrushing blacks. A dozen men hurried to the
defense of the car that carried the two girls.
Some one shouted, "Look out! They're on the other side too." Rifles
were turned in the direction of the new threat. The fire was continuous
and deadly. The Bansutos, almost upon them, wavered and fell back. A
fusillade of shots followed them as they disappeared into the dense
grass, followed and found many of them.
It was soon over; perhaps the whole affair had not lasted two minutes.
But it had wrought havoc with the company. A dozen men were dead
or dying, a truck was wrecked, the morale of the little force was
shattered.
Orman turned the command of the advance guard over to West and hurried
back down the line to check up on casualties. O'Grady was running
forward to meet him.
"We'd better get out of here, Tom," he cried; "those devils may fire
the grass."
Orman paled. He had not thought of that. "Load the dead and wounded
onto the nearest cars, and get going!" he ordered. "We'll have to check
up later."
The relief that the party had felt when they entered the grassy
clearing was only equalled by that which they experienced when they
left it to pull into the dense, soggy forest where the menace of fire,
at least, was reduced to a minimum.
Then O'Grady went along the line with his roster of the company
checking the living and the dead. The bodies of Noice, Baine, seven
other Americans and three Arabs were on the trucks.
"Obroski!" shouted O'Grady. "Obroski! Has any one seen Obroski?"
"Bless my soul!" exclaimed Gordon Z. Marcus. "I saw him. I remember
now. When those devils came up on our left, he jumped out of the other
side of the car and ran off into that tall grass."
Orman started back toward the rear of the column. "Where you goin',
Tom?" demanded West.
"To look for Obroski."
"You can't go alone. I'll go with you."
Half a dozen others accompanied them, but though they searched for the
better part of an hour they found no sign of Obroski either dead or
alive.
Silent, sad, and gloomy, the company found a poor camping site late in
the afternoon. When they spoke, they spoke in subdued tones, and there
was no joking or laughing. Glumly they sat at table when supper was
announced, and few appeared to notice and none commented upon the fact
that the famous Naomi Madison waited on them.