hile others came staggering forward with arrows sunk deep in
various parts of their anatomy. The leader of the band, however,
remained unhurt, and he continued, by shouts, to urge his men forward to
the attack. It was evident that his followers derived great
encouragement from his words and actions, and that to put him _hors de
combat_ would practically be to win the battle; therefore, leaving my
now empty rifle leaning against the rock behind which I had been
crouching, I drew my cutlass and advanced to meet the fellow, determined
to personally tackle him and put him out of action without loss of time.

He was a sufficiently formidable antagonist, it must be admitted; two
inches taller than myself, broad in proportion, with an enormously
massive chest and shoulders, and great muscles that stood out like
cables under the skin of his bare arms. His features were typically
Tartar, and his small eyes blazed with ferocity as, waving his sword
above his head, he advanced with a shout of defiance to meet me.
Meanwhile Bowata and his followers poured in still another flight of
arrows, and then, flinging down their bows, they gripped their
formidable war clubs and, uttering weird yells, charged across the sand
and fell upon the Chinamen as they emerged from the water.

I quite anticipated that the fight between the leader and myself would
be a long and exceedingly tough one; but, to my amazement, it was begun
and finished in a breath. The man came charging upon me with uplifted
sword, his evident intention being to make a cut at my head that should
finish me out of hand. And indeed he very nearly accomplished his
purpose; for as I raised my cutlass to guard my head his blade descended
upon it with terrific force--and shore my weapon clean in two, and if I
had not at the same moment stepped nimbly aside I should assuredly have
been cloven to the eyes. As it was, the descending weapon missed me by
a hair-breadth, shearing a large hole in the sleeve of my shirt but not
touching the skin. Scarcely realising what I was about, but acting upon
instinct or the impulse of the moment, I suppose, before my antagonist
could again raise his weapon I violently thrust my severed blade into
his face, and as he staggered back with the force of the blow I whipped
out my revolver and shot him through the head. That ended the fight;
for as the man fell dead at my feet a shout of mingled horror and
consternation arose from those Chinese who