But a change came over the crowd below. They had understood. The
winged monster was not a friendly spirit, it was a hostile spirit.
And after the fall of the minghan loud shouts for revenge arose on
all sides. Almost immediately a fusillade resounded over the plain.

These menaces did not prevent the "Albatross" from descending boldly
to within a hundred and fifty feet of the ground. Uncle Prudent and
Phil Evans, whatever were their feelings towards Robur, could not
help joining him in such a work of humanity.

"Let us free the prisoners!" they shouted.

"That is what I am going to do!" said the engineer.

And the magazine rifles of the "Albatross" in the hands of the
colleagues, as in the hands of the crew, began to rain down the
bullets, of which not one was lost in the masses below. And the
little gun shot forth its shrapnel, which really did marvels.

The prisoners, although they did not understand how the help had come
to them, broke their bonds, while the soldiers were firing at the
aeronef. The stern screw was shot through by a bullet, and a few
holes were made in the hull. Frycollin, crouching in his cabin,
received a graze from a bullet that came through the deck-house.

"Ah! They will have them!" said Tom Turner. And, rushing to the
magazine, he returned with a dozen dynamite cartridges, which be
distributed to the men. At a sign from Robur, these cartridges were
fired at the hillock, and as they reached the ground exploded like so
many small shells.