ed themselves upon Dick. One of them
he shot clean through the heart as the brute sprang upon him, and
although there can be no doubt that the creature instantly died, the
momentum of his spring was sufficient to dash the lad to the ground and
send his pistol flying. And before he could regain his feet or draw his
remaining pistol, the last survivor was upon him, with a ponderous club
upraised to dash out the youngster's brains. Like lightning the blow
fell; but instinctively and without premeditation Dick just managed to
dodge it; and such was the force of the blow that the club snapped short
off in the brute's great hairy hand. And now the knowledge of boxing
that the young sailor had aforetime somewhat painfully acquired, came to
his aid, for as his ferocious antagonist crouched over him, his great
tusks bared and dripping foam, while the little eyes burnt red with
deadly hate, Dick threw his whole strength into a right-hander, which
caught the beast fair and square on the point of the chin with a crash
that sent the head violently back and caused the vertebrae of the neck
to crack, following up the blow with a punch in the wind that fairly
knocked the beast out of time for the moment. That moment proved
sufficient to save Cavendish's life, for it afforded him time to whip
the remaining pistol from his belt and discharge it full in the brute's
face as it gathered itself together for what would in all probability
have proved a fatal leap, so far as Dick was concerned.

CHAPTER NINE.

THE SCULPTURED ROCKS.

"Bravo! Dick, old chap," exclaimed Earle, turning to his friend, with
one hand outstretched in offered help while the other grasped a smoking
pistol--"well fought! Are you hurt at all?"

"N-o, I think not," replied Dick, a little doubtfully, as with the help
of the other's proffered hand he scrambled to his feet. "That fellow,
there"--pointing to the body of the ape that had hurled him to the
ground--"pretty nearly knocked the wind out of me, while the other did
his level best to dash my brains out, and I've barked my knuckles rather
badly against his chin; but otherwise I think I'm all right, thanks.
And you?"

"I?" returned Earle. "Oh, I'm as right as rain. Say, Dick, that was
something like a scrap at the last. What? Guess if it hadn't been for
old King Cole, we'd have been in rather a tight place. Look at the
beggar. Ugh! he is not pleasant to look at when he's real riled, is he?
He has b