ey had
others, too--long lances of slender wood with tips of flint. Thrusting
spears! He had a sickening vision of those jagged stone heads ripping
into their bodies while these beasts stood off in safety. It was thus
that they killed their prey. And Diane--he could not even spare
her--could not give her the kind oblivion of a mercy-shot!

The other two were lying beside him now at the edge of the sloping
cliff. The bank of shining gray was not steep; the enemy would climb
it with ease. Hopeless! They had won through for this!... Harkness
groaned silently in an agony of spirit at thought of the girl.

"Oh, for one detonite shell to land among them!" he said between
clenched teeth--then was breathless with a thought that exploded
within his mind.

* * * * *

His fingers were clumsy with haste as he fumbled at the head of the
spear. The sharp-edged stone was bound to its shaft with sinew, wound
round and round. The enemy were out in the open; he spared an
instant's look to see them advancing. A clattering of falling spears
sounded beyond, but the weapons were overcast, thanks to the
protection of the rocky edge.

"A shell!" Harkness spoke with sharp intensity. "Give me a cartridge
from your belt, quick!"

Chet handed him one. Harkness took one look, then pulled a cartridge
from his own belt.

"That explains it," he was muttering as he worked, "--the big
explosion when I smashed the rocks. You've got ammunition for your
pistol, but you put rifle cartridges in my belt--and service
ammunition at that. No wonder they raised the devil with those rocks!"

His fingers were working swiftly now to bind the slender cartridge to
the spear. A chipped out hollow in the flint made a seat. He gave
silent thanks for Chet Bullard's mistake. Chet had slipped; he had
filled Harkness' belt with ammunition that would have been useless for
the pistol--but it was just what he needed here.

So intent was he on his task that he hardly heard the yelling chorus
from below. It swelled to a din; but his work was finished, and he
looked up.

One figure in advance of the rest had been urging them on, and they
came in a wild rush now. Walt Harkness scrambled to his feet. Tall and
sinewy, his broad shoulders, scantily covered by the rags of blouse
that remained, were turned sideways as he raised the spear. The
yelling from below swelled louder and more shrill.

This strange one from another tribe--he was unar