through the ribs of the stockade, like a Titan blowing through the
teeth of a giant comb.

Inspector Dicken, with Captain Stephens at his side, was standing at
the edge of the stockade. Not a sound came from the plateau, and not
a glimmer of light appeared in the darkness. Then the great, wide,
black night suddenly opened its jaws and launched forth an avalanche
of blinding, white light. The two men bounded in their places; then
came a roll of mighty thunder, as if it were moving on tremendous
wheels and destroying all the heavens.

No enemy yet!

But the besieged had hardly breathed their breath of relief, before
there arose upon the dark air, a din of sound so diabolical that you
might believe the gates of hell had suddenly been thrown open. From
every point around the fort went up a chorus of murderous yells, and
then came the irregular flash and crack from rifles.

The Inspector ran hastily back among his men:

"Don't waste your ammunition," he said, "in the dark. Part of their
plan is to burn the fort. Wait till they fire the torches, and then
blaze at them in their own light."

Every man clenched his rifle, and the eyes of the brave band
glimmered in the dark.

Crack! crack! crack! went the rifles of the savages, and now and
again a sound, half like a snarl, and half like a sigh, went trailing