Further down, a second figure showed briefly, scrambling up the
right-hand side of the trough. Garth fired--a fraction of a second too
late. He could scarcely credit such nimble agility in a figure so gross.
It was Grylls. Thus two of them were accounted for. Searching for the
third, he saw the black crown of a hat projecting above a stone on the
other side of the ravine. This was an easy shot; he aimed and fired with
a savage satisfaction. The hat disappeared; but again he knew, somehow,
that his bullet had not found its mark.
At the same moment Grylls won a rock a yard higher up. He was not coming
up the bottom of the ravine, but aiming obliquely up the side for the
trees high above. Garth, grimly covering his shelter, saw him bob his
head around; a bare, cropped, tousled head, like a hiding schoolboy's.
Quick as he was with the trigger, Grylls was quicker. The bullet
flattened itself harmlessly beyond.
As he shot there was a scramble across the ravine; and he saw the other
figure had mounted. The hat, Mabyn's hat, again showed; and he took
another shot at it. This time the bullet knocked it spinning off the
rifle barrel which upheld it; and in a flash Garth understood how neatly
they were fooling him. Each in turn drew his fire, while the other made
an advance. He resolved to shoot no more.
Meanwhile the first one he had glimpsed, which must be Mary, had not
moved from the middle of the ravine. Some of the stones were moved, and
he guessed she had made a permanent shelter there. There was a shot from
below, and the bullet spattered itself on the heavy base of rock.
Holding his hand, Garth awaited a second shot. He saw a tiny white puff
at last, and marked the aperture whence it issued. The bullet hurtled
whiningly overhead. Steadying his gun on the edge of the rock, he took
careful aim--but the other spoke first. It was a marvellous shot--or a
chance one. The bullet splintered the edge of the stone protecting
Garth's head, and sang off. A jagged sliver of stone ploughed across the
back of his extended hand. He exclaimed as in casual surprise, and his
gun exploded harmlessly in the air. He looked at his hand stupidly as at
an alien member; then suddenly he understood; and whipping out his
handkerchief, bound up the wound, knotting the linen with teeth and
fingers.
Up to this moment Garth had been playing a dispassionate game; but he
returned to his loophole conscious of a great surge of cold rage against
those below. He yearned to get even; but he could wait for it. Mabyn
exposed his hat tantalizingly; Grylls shot out a foot, or bobbed up his
head--but Garth saved his bullets. He would not even try to pierce the
sharpshooters' defenses again. An occasional shot came from there; but
never such another as the last.
Finally Grylls changed his tactics. From behind his rock he taunted
Garth vilely. The walls of the ravine reverberated horridly with the
sound of the sudden human voice.
But Garth still bided his time; merely adding the insult of the words to
Natalie's ears, to the score of his rage.
Natalie in the meantime, thankful to have something to do, had been
piling stones as heavy as she could lift, on the rock behind him. She
had torn the sling from her arm; and was using the weaker member to
steady the other.
Garth, fearful that Grylls might succeed in flanking them at last,
ordered her to climb up behind him; and without turning his head, told
her how to make a little parapet along the top of the rock on the
exposed side.
Garth finally got his chance. A little stone rolled down from Mabyn's
hiding-place; and he instantly trained his gun on the spot. Mabyn,
miscalculating, or losing his head, suddenly scurried for the next rock.
Garth had marked it. Mabyn gained it, but before he could pull his legs
after him the rifle spoke. There was a scream of pain; and Mabyn's
body, sliding from behind the rock, rolled and dropped heavily from
stone to stone. A leg caught in a fissure and stayed him; he hung head
downward, writhing in hideous, theatrical postures of agony, and
screaming like a woman. Garth, thinking of Natalie, longed to send a
shot to still the noise; but his hand was held by his promise to Rina.
It was all over in a minute after that. Grylls, careless of the other's
fate, scrambled up from stone to stone. Garth peppered his course with
bullets; but the rocks were scattered so thickly, Grylls needed to
expose himself for scarcely a second at a time. He gained the trees at
last.
An instant of terrible suspense succeeded. Garth made Natalie lie close
under the little wall she had been building. He crouched over her,
himself fully exposed, searching the hillside with strained eyes.
Suddenly he saw the bloated face not thirty yards away. Grylls had
partly stepped from behind a tree and was deliberately taking aim. Garth
sprang to his knees. The two guns spoke at once. Grylls pitched
headfirst down the steep slope into view; and rolled down the bare rocks
into the tiny stream.
"I've got him!" shouted Garth triumphantly.
Even as he spoke he toppled over sideways. Natalie clutched at him
wildly; but his coat was pulled out of her grasp. He slid off the rock
and dropped on the stones behind. In an instant she was at his side. He
was already struggling to rise--his teeth pressed into his lip until the
blood oozed between.
"Only my left shoulder," he muttered. "I can still shoot. There's Mary,
yet. Help me up."
Somehow, with her aid, he managed to pull himself back on the rock, one
arm dangling useless. Through his loophole, he saw Mary toiling openly
up the ravine. He showed himself. At the sight of him the old woman
paused and held out her hands as if inviting him to shoot. She had left
her gun. When he made no offer to fire, she quietly continued her climb.
Garth watched her grimly.
Reaching Grylls's body, she unwound a woollen scarf from about her
waist; and passing it under his shoulders, partly hoisted his great bulk
on her back with an incredible effort; and started down again. Grylls
was quite dead; his heels thudded limply from stone to stone.
Long before she reached the bottom, Garth lost interest in her progress.
He had fainted.
Natalie, working to restore him, distracted, hopeless, crazed, suddenly
heard a distant shout; and looking up distinguished a little cavalcade
winding down the face of the great gorge. There was a red coat among
them.
"Garth! We're saved! We're _saved_!" she cried to his unhearing ears.