began to ascend it with decreased speed. The baying of the dogs was
growing much louder. They were coming fast. Near the summit he saw a
heap of rock, probably an Aztec tumulus, six or seven feet high. Ned
smiled with satisfaction. Pressed by danger his mind was quick. He was
where he would make his defense, and he did not think it would need to
be a long one.

He settled himself well upon the top of the tumulus and drew his
machete. The dogs, six in number, coursed among the cypresses, and the
leader, foam upon his mouth, leaped straight at Ned. The boy
involuntarily drew up his feet a little, but he was not shaken from the
crouching position that was best suited to a blow. As the hound was in
mid-air he swung the machete with all his might and struck straight at
the ugly head. The heavy blade crashed through the skull and the dog
fell dead without a sound. Another which leaped also, but not so far,
received a deep cut across the shoulder. It fell back and retreated with
the others among the cypresses, where the unwounded dogs watched with
red eyes the formidable figure on the rocks.

But Ned did not remain on the tumulus more than a few minutes longer.
When he sprang down the dogs growled, but he shook the machete until it
glittered in the moonlight. With howls of terror they fled, while he
resumed his journey in the other direction.

Near morning he came into country which seemed to him very wild. The
soil was hard and dry, but there was a dense growth of giant cactus,
with patches here and there of thorny bushes. Guarding well against the
spikes and thorns he crept into one of the thickets and lay down. He
must rest and sleep and already the touch of rose in the east was
heralding the dawn. Sleep by day and flight by night. He was satisfied