THE FIGHT
Silently the little band--the rescuers and the rescued ones--filed past
the temple. They had to cross in front of it to take the path which
led to where the airship was anchored, but they thought there would be
little danger, on account of the important ceremonies going on.
“You take the lead, Jerry,” advised Jim Nestor in a low voice. “I’ll
guard the rear. Have your guns handy. No telling what may happen, but
it looks as if we were going to make a quiet getaway.”
Alas for their hopes! They were at the temple entrance now, when there
suddenly emerged one of the medicine men. He was the same one who had
been given the lizard to destroy.
For a moment the Indian, after reaching the door, stared about him. He
was evidently searching for the reptile he had carelessly laid down.
Possibly he had been reproved for his hasty action, in throwing the
reptile away, and been sent back to finish the work. But the flying
lizard was not to be seen, and good reason, for, at that moment it was
in the professor’s green box.
The medicine man, not seeing it, stepped from the threshold of the
council house. His eyes roved over the ground, that was illuminated by
distant blazes, which were brighter, now that the rain had somewhat
ceased. Then the Indian looked up, and caught sight of the figures
moving past the temple. At first he must have taken them for some of
his fellows, but at that moment the lizard which the professor had
placed alive in his specimen box, uttered a sort of curious squeak.
There was no mistaking it, and the medicine man’s sharp ears told him
from whence the sound came. He must have suspected something, for,
though the captives, like the rescuers, were dressed in skin disguises,
the Indian sprang at them, and caught hold of one--a woman.
Instantly there was confusion. The Indian set up a yell which at once
stopped the weird chant inside the temple. Then the lone medicine man
began to drag the escaping woman toward the big building. Jerry and Ned
drew their revolvers.
“We’ve got to fight!” exclaimed the tall lad.
The Indian was dragging the woman from the restraining grasp of her
companions. Jim Nestor stepped up to him.
“That will be about all from you!” exclaimed the miner. His fist shot
out, and the Indian dropped like a log. Nor did he shout any longer.
He had been knocked unconscious. “That’s better than using a gun,”
explained Nestor. “Now scoot for it--everybody!”
They needed no urging. The pursuit would begin any moment. Already
several of the Indians were running from the temple in response to
the call from the medicine man, and the ceremonies had evidently been
brought to an abrupt end.
“Come on!” cried Jerry. “I only hope we can stand them off until we
reach the airship. Are all your friends here, Mr. Deering?”
“All that are left of us,” was the sad reply.
The captives and their rescuers hastened on. By good luck they were now
beyond the gleams cast by the nearest fires and the crowd of Indians
that poured from the temple could not at first discover the reason
for the imperative summons given by their medicine man. But they soon
learned the cause, for the prostrate one, recovering from Nestor’s
blow, excitedly told what had happened, that their prisoners were
escaping. There was a rush of feet and voices called one to the other.
Then came a gleam as of torches being torn from their places in the
temple.
“Here they come!” exclaimed Ned, grimly.
“Do the best you can,” advised Jerry.
The three women of the party were placed in the middle, with the men
grouped around them. Jerry and Ned were in the lead, while Nestor,
with Professor Snodgrass, and one of the younger men of the prisoners,
brought up the rear.
Suddenly there was a hissing sound in the air, and something seemed to
fly over the heads of the escaping ones.
“Arrows!” exclaimed Mr. Deering. “They are shooting arrows at us. Few
of the Indians have guns, but those few may use them.”
His fear proved correct a little later, when the darkness of the night
was cut by slivers of flame, and bullets sang over the heads of our
friends, and those they were trying to save.
“If they don’t shoot any better than that we have little to fear,” said
Jerry.
“Wow!” exclaimed Ned, ducking as something sang over his head. “That
was closer. I’m going to fire, Jerry!”
As he spoke he leveled his revolver at the black mass of pursuing
Indians, and fired. Jerry did the same. It was the only thing to do
to save their lives and protect the prisoners. Jim Nestor now opened
fire, and the professor, anxious to protect the flying lizard he had
so unexpectedly secured, plucked up courage to use the extra revolver,
which the miner had thrust into his hand. Jerry, Ned and Nestor each
had two, fully loaded.
The fight was now on in earnest, the Indians battling desperately,
for they wanted to keep their prisoners, punish those who had dared
interrupt the sacred rites, and they wanted to secure the flying
lizard. With howls and yells they came on, now sending a flight of
arrows and again using their guns. Fortunately none of our friends were
hurt, but occasional cries of pain from the Indians told that some had
been struck. The battle went on in the rain and darkness, the four
rescuers seeking to get the prisoners to the airship. On they rushed,
firing and being fired upon. The ceremonial lights were less frequent
now, and the fugitives were better protected by darkness.
“Aren’t we near the airship?” panted the professor, as he fired the
last shot in his revolver. None of the bullets could have found a mark,
as he aimed the weapon high in the air.
“We’re almost there,” answered Jerry. “Are they coming any nearer, Jim?”
“They’re pressing us close,” replied the miner.
Suddenly, as the little band, running for their lives, turned a huge
rock in the path toward the upper end of the valley where the airship
was, they saw coming toward them several persons. In the darkness Jerry
took them for a party of Indians that had gotten ahead of them to cut
off their escape. He was about to fire, when a voice called out:
“Are you there?”
“Yes! Yes, Chunky!” cried the tall lad. “But why did you leave the
ship?”
“To come to your rescue,” answered Bob. “We heard the firing, and
couldn’t stand it any longer!”