had gone two paces
more a shout went up in a hundred terror-stricken voices:

"The voice of Tumana! It is the voice of Tumana!"[1]

Sax kept on. Suddenly the tension broke. Like dead leaves before a
gale, the natives scattered and fled. Stobart, Sax, Arrkroo, and the
corpse of Wuntoo were left alone.

Arrkroo feared the bull-roarer, which spoke with the dreaded voice of
Tumana, as much as anyone. Yet he stood his ground with uplifted club.
The helpless white man was within easy reach. Arrkroo would not miss
his vengeance this third time. He would strike his enemy dead even
though it was his last act, for no one can do such a thing when Tumana
is speaking without terrible consequences. The sound of the
bull-roarer went on. Arrkroo swayed back to gain force for a smashing
blow. Then he uttered a wild shout of triumph and jerked his black
painted body forward. The club swung----

A shot rang out. The club dropped from the murdering warragul's
nerveless hand. It missed Stobart's head by a fraction of an inch.
Sax picked it up and rushed forward. But death had already come.
Arrkroo's tall figure tottered for a moment, then crumpled up and fell
to the ground. Mick immediately dashed across the open space, followed
by Yarloo and the three other boys. Coiloo was nowhere to be seen.

Two slashes of a sharp knife cut the hair rope which bound the captive
white man and he was free. There was no time for thanks or
congratulations. Sax had stopped swinging the luringa; the voice of
Tumana had ceased. Already the natives were reassembling, and it was
only a matter of moments before they would swarm down on the rescue
party, outnumbering it by fifteen to one. A flight of spears fell from
the rocks above, doing no harm, but warning the white men of their
terrible danger.

They dashed down the valley towards the clump of timber where the
saddle-horses had been tied. At one place the track narrowed as it
passed between two great masses of rock. Mick was in the rear with the
rifle. As he passed this spot, a spear came out from behind one of the
boulders. He was not expecting an ambush, and the spear struck his
shoulder, entering the top of the lungs and breaking off. He dropped
the rifle. As it left his hand he must have pulled the trigger, for
there was a report. Sax was running just in front of Mick. He heard
the report, looked round, and saw the stockman stagger. He dashed
back. His act saved Mick'