"Stronger than the god," he muttered, "stronger than the god," and
bounded forward.

Following the path that ran beside the canal, they plunged into a
tunnel, holding each other as before. In a few minutes they were through
it and in a place full of cedar trees outside the wall of the Gold
House, under which evidently the tunnel passed, for there it rose behind
them. Beneath these cedar trees they flitted like ghosts, now in the
moonlight and now in the shadow.

The great fall to the back of the town was on their left, and in front
of them lay one of the arms of the river, at this spot a raging
torrent not much more than a hundred feet in width, spanned by a narrow
suspension bridge which seemed to be supported by two fibre ropes. On
the hither side of this bridge stood a guard hut, and to their dismay
out of this hut ran three men armed with spears, evidently to cut them
off. One of these men sped across the bridge and took his stand at the
further end, while the other two posted themselves in their path at the
entrance to it.

The Mungana slacked his speed and said one word--"Finished!" and Jeekie
also hesitated, then turned and pointed behind them.

Alan looked back and flitting in and out between the cedar trees, saw
the white robes of the priests of Bonsa. Then despair seized them all,
and they rushed at the bridge. Jeekie reached it first and dodging
beneath the spears of the two guards, plunged his knife into the breast
of one of them, and butted the other with his great head, so that he
fell over the side of the bridge on to the rocks below.

"Cut, Major, cut!" he said to Alan, who pushed past him. "All right
now."

They were on the narrow swaying bridge--it was but a single plank--Alan
first, then the Mungana, then Jeekie. When they were half way across
Alan looked before him and saw a sight he could never forget.

The third guard at the further side was sawing through one of the fibre
ropes with his spear. There they were on the middle of the bridge with
the torrent raving fifty feet beneath them, and the man had nearly
severed the rope! To get over before it parted was impossible; behind
were the priests; beneath the roaring river. All three of them stopped
as though paralyzed, for all three had seen. Something struck against
Alan's leg, it was his pistol that still remained fastened to his wrist
by its leather thong. He cocked and lifted it, took aim and fired.
The shot missed, which was not wonder