our pursuers were held like rushing waters behind a sudden
fallen tree.

"Timed to a second!" cried Ventnor. "Hold 'em for a
while. Fuses and dynamite. Blew out the whole side, right
on 'em, by the Lord!"

On we fled. Chiu-Ming was now well in advance; Ruth
and Dick less than half a mile from the opening of the
green tunnel. I saw Drake stop, raise his rifle, empty it
before him, and, holding Ruth by the hand, race back toward
us.

Even as he turned, the vine-screened entrance through
which we had come, through which we had thought lay
safety, streamed other armored men. We were outflanked.

"To the fissure!" shouted Ventnor. Drake heard, for he
changed his course to the crevice at whose mouth Ruth
had said the--Little Things--had lain.

After him streaked Chiu-Ming, urging on the pony.
Shouting out of the tunnel, down over the lip of the bowl,
leaped the soldiers. We dropped upon our knees, sent shot
after shot into them. They fell back, hesitated. We sprang
up, sped on.

All too short was the check, but once more we held
them--and again.