Presently, all moving together, and uttering a hissing, whistling sound,
they began slowly to approach us, keeping in line, each shaggy leg lifted
at the same moment, like so many soldiers on parade, while the heads
continued to swing, and the glowing eyes to cut linked circles in the
air. But for Edmund we should certainly have been lost. Standing a little
to the fore, he spoke to us over his shoulder, in a low voice:

"Take out your pistols, but don't shoot unless they make a rush. Then
kill as many as you can. I'll knock over the leader in the center, and I
think that will be enough."

We could as easily have stirred our arms if we had been marble statues,
but he promptly raised his pistol, and the explosion followed on the
instant. The report was like an earthquake. It shocked us into our senses
and almost out of them again. The weight of the air and the confinement
of the cavern magnified and concentrated the sound so that it was awful
beyond belief. The fellow in the center was hurled back as if shot from a
catapult, and the others fell at flat as he, and lay there groveling,
their big eyes filming and swaying, but no longer in unison.

The charm was broken, and as we saw our fearful enemies prostrate, our
courage returned at a bound.

"I thought as much," said Edmund coolly. "But I'm sorry now that I aimed
at that fellow; the sound alone would have sufficed. It was not necessary
to take life. However, we should probably have had to come to it
eventually, and now we have them thoroughly cowed. Our safety consists in
keeping them terrified."