hen he swung a spear,
with agile trick, and it grazed the hem of the white captain's coat. It
would have done more, had not Sir George by instinct, which is ever
alert, jerked himself free of its path. Another spear, from the same
supple hand, just missed his breast, striking the stock of his gun. This
was too near for comfort and the future well-being of the expedition.

Sir George passed his empty gun to the Englishman handiest, with the
direction 'Please re-load it.' He had tried to do that himself, but his
cramped position made it difficult to ram home the powder and ball. For
his own gun, he snatched an unshot one which the man was struggling to
release from its cover. In the hurry, piece and cover got entangled, but,
with a wrench, Sir George tore the two apart. His plan of campaign was
settled; he advanced to the rock where the light-coloured native had
head-quarters. In bold initiative, there remained the only hope for Sir
George and his following, against imminent massacre. Would it be a moral
victory, won by a simple advance on the rock, or would it be necessary to
strike? He had hesitated, as yet, to shoot straight; and he trusted still
to avoid that extreme measure.

Three strides in the open, and three spears had him square and fair, a
rent archery target. The first struck his watch, denting it, the second
caught the fleshy part of his arm, the third tore into his thigh. The
Aborigines were skilled spear-men, and proving it by Sir George's
impalement, they shouted triumph. The shook of the weapons drove him to
his knees, but what stung him was the crow of the blacks.

'That,' he said, 'produced in me a heated anger, and I was in the fight
as I had not been till then. Stung by their mockery, I pulled myself
together and was on my feet again in a trice. A spear was still sticking
in my thigh, and blood flowed freely from the wound. I dragged out the
spear, covered the wound with my haversack, so that neither enemy nor
friend might be aware of it, and once more advanced.'

The chief grew alarmed at this steady investment of himself, and showed
it by brandishing a club, as if to convey, 'Just you come nearer and this
will drum on your head.'

Sir George's faculties were so keenly edged that he noted, in this
bravado, a common link of mankind, high and low, civilised and barbarian.
As long as the chieftain had been sure of his skin, he flung spears and
sang valiantly; but when alarm entered him, those deadly