r or under the
carts.

His unaided strength would have been unequal to the task of moving the
hackeri, heavily laden as it was, resting on soft soil, and interlocked
with the next. But as soon as his followers saw the aim of his movements,
and especially when they found that the defenders could not touch him
without exposing themselves, he gained as many eager helpers as could
bring their lathis to bear upon the two carts.

Meanwhile the defense at this spot was weak, for the men of the Good
Intent had swarmed up to the adjoining carts and were threatening at any
moment to force a way over the barricade. They were more formidable
enemies than the Bengalis.

Slowly the two hackeris began to move, till the wheels of one hung over
the edge of the nullah. One more united heave, and it rolled over,
dragging the other cart with it and splitting itself into a hundred
fragments on the rocky bottom. Through the gap thus formed in the
barricade sprang Diggle, with half a dozen men of the Good Intent and a
score of Bengalis.

Desmond gathered his little band into a knot in the center of the
inclosure. Then the brazen sun looked down upon a Homeric struggle.
Bulger, brawny warrior of the iron hook, swung his musket like a flail,
every now and again shooting forth his more sinister weapon with terrible
effect. Desmond, slim and athletic, dashed in upon the enemy with his
half pike as they recoiled before Bulger's whirling musket. The rest, now
a bare dozen, Bengalis though they were, presented still an undaunted
front to the swarm that surged into the narrow space. The hot air grew
hotter with the fight.

To avoid being surrounded, the little band instinctively backed towards
the edge of the nullah. Diggle exulted as they were pressed remorselessly
to the rear. Not a man dreamed of surrender; the temper of the assailants
was indeed so savage that nothing but the annihilation of their victims
would now satisfy them. Yet Diggle once again bethought himself that
Desmond might be worth to him more alive than dead, and in the midst of
the clamor Desmond heard him repeat his offer of reward to the man who
should capture him.

Diggle himself resolved to make the attempt. Venturing too near, he
received an ugly gash from Desmond's pike, promising a permanent mark
from brow to chin. This was too much for him. Beside himself with fury,
he yelled a command to his men to sweep the pigs over the brink, and, one
side of his face livi