roaring in unison with Tim's.

Knowlton and Rand looked at each other. The lieutenant fumbled his
pistol from its holster, got it firmly in his left hand, slid down the
embankment, and staggered out. Rand coolly walked over to Tim's
discarded gun, picked it up, and followed.

Over at the other doorway the bushmen threw aside their useless guns and
drew their machetes. Jose, grinning like a death's-head, whirled the
bush knife aloft and mockingly dared the Red Bones still fronting him to
come and take it from him. Pedro and Lourenco indulged in no such
bravado, but leaped like jaguars at their foes. Whereupon Jose,
muttering a curse on them for getting the jump on him, dashed forward
with furious abandon.

Their pistols emptied, the Americans also drew machetes--all except
Rand, who had no weapon but the bulletless rifle--and waited. Few
unwounded Red Bones now were left; but among those few Schwandorf still
lived.

"Schwandorf!" bellowed McKay. "You yellow cur--you _Schweinhund_! Come
and fight!"

"Yeah!" taunted Tim. "The women and kids are inside. Come and git 'em!"

Schwandorf came. He came not because he wanted to, however, for his
guns, too, were empty. He came because the Red Bones, sensing the
challenge and loathing the Blackbeard who had shielded himself so long
among them, threw him out bodily. They had no time to stand and watch
what might happen to him, but they took time to cast him out where he
must stand on his own legs. Then, snarling, they resumed their now
hopeless battle against their encompassing executioners.

For a moment the German stood glowering at McKay. Then, with a dramatic
gesture, he threw aside his useless revolvers and advanced empty handed.

"Man to man?" he growled.

"Man to man!" echoed McKay, passing his pistol to Tim and sheathing his
machete. Fists clenched, he sprang forward.

Schwandorf halted. His hands remained empty--until the captain was
within eight feet of him. Then he leaped back, his machete jumped into
his fist, and its point stabbed for his antagonist's abdomen.

An instantaneous side-step and twist of the body saved the captain from
evisceration. The blade ripped through breeches and shirt and scraped
the skin. As Schwandorf yanked it back for another thrust McKay struck
it away with one hand and, without drawing his own steel, jumped again
at his assailant. An instant later the two blackbeards were clenched in
a death grapple.

Schwandorf found his long