over that gulf that might indeed have been the portal of Tartarus. Fifty
feet as flies the bird. It is in the air--it is half-way over--and yet
the maniac has seen it not. But the maniac is turning with his victim in
his arms. The streak of drab has passed forty feet--ten feet further if
it is to reach the other brink--ten thousand if it fails to reach it;
and it has already sunk ten feet in space--with ten feet more of
horizontal distance to cover, it is already on a level with the edge of
the abyss which it must safely reach, or--The maniac has turned; and the
streak of drab has reached the brink--but, ah! below the surface. The
form is that of Peters--the only man who could be in such a situation
yet live on. One of those invincible arms is thrown upon the surface
above the chasm, and those long fingers fasten upon the immovable lava.
And now the madman sees the danger that menaces his design--but too
late, for Peters the unconquerable stands erect between him and the
chasm. Then Ahpilus quickly sets on the ground his living burden; and
Peters, the human bird of passage, risks again his life.

"But, for a man like Peters, such a contest was scarcely a risk. Had
Ahpilus been less savage in his baffled rage, Peters would have spared
the madman; but it was not to be. There was scarcely a man in all
Hili-li that could physically cope with Ahpilus; but he was no match for
Peters. For a few moments the sailor protected himself without any act
of aggression; but it soon became apparent that he would be obliged to
destroy his adversary, or himself be destroyed. Ahpilus had pushed
Peters, or Peters had carelessly allowed himself to shift his own
position, to within dangerously close proximity to the chasm, and at the
moment when Peters noticed this circumstance, he also saw that he was
between Ahpilus and the abyss: and Ahpilus, in all his furious madness,
also observed his advantage. Peters had in his possession a very long
and keen knife, but, as he afterward said in talking over this incident,