he baggage ponies, who had been tethered in a far corner of the
large room, and swiftly cut a case loose. He unstrapped it and drew
out an eight-bore rifle, a big powerful weapon. In a corner of the
case was a package of the cartridges which fitted the rifle. Jim
caught up the packet and ran back to his window.

"The very thing," he breathed in the utmost excitement, "and I stood
here like a dummy and never remembered it was with us till you thought
of it, Jack. Unless they've got some very stiff stuff in yonder
palisade, I'll send a bullet through it as if it was only paper. I've
tried this gun with nickel-covered bullets such as these, and sent the
bullet through eight one-inch teak planks and five inches of wet
sawdust."

"That ought to be good enough," cried Buck. "Pipe the lead into 'em,
Jim, and me and Jack will watch for any you drive out of cover if your
bullet goes through."

"If," snorted Jim, as he threw open the breech and slipped in the big
cartridge, "I'll show you."

He threw the elephant gun forward and fired at the centre of the
palisade. There was an instant scream. The immensely powerful weapon
had driven the bullet straight through the centre of a palm log,
through the body of the dacoit behind, and wounded one of the party
following up.

Jim whipped open the breech, and the empty shell flew out, for the
rifle was an ejector. His practised hands had another cartridge in and
the breech closed in an instant. He fired again and then again, aiming
each time at a different spot in the palisade. There was a roar of
anger from the hidden Kachins, a roar answered by an exultant shout
from the besieged.

"Pipe it into 'em, Jim," roared Buck. "You're gettin' home every shot.
Hark at 'em squealin'."

The barricade had now come to a standstill, and it trembled all over
every time that it was struck by the heavy bullet travelling at
terrific speed at so short a range.

"Fire low, Jim," cried Jack, "they have stopped and are crouching at
the foot of the palisade, I know."

Jim fired low, and his shot was answered by a fresh outburst of yells
of pain and rage. Suddenly the palisade began to waver, then it slowly
fell over, as a stream of blue-clothed figures darted from its
insufficient shelter. The dacoits did not make either for the door of
the hut nor for the jungle they had left. The pagoda was the nearest
cover to them, and they raced for it with all their speed, the
quick-firing Mannlichers scour