identical sentry whose signal he had answered and who, still suspicious,
had returned on his tracks. He was within three yards when Dick saw
him, and the cry had hardly left his lips when the man was upon him.

With all the ferocity of a tiger he leaped at his enemy, native sword in
hand, and as the fingers on his left hand closed on Dick's shoulder, the
murderous weapon swooped upwards in a stroke meant to transfix his body.
But again the white man had good fortune. His guardian angel seemed to
be on the watch that night, for the point caught the sling of his rifle,
and turning aside the whole blade flashed beneath his arm till the hand
which held it came with a thud against his side.

"Dog!" shouted the man, thinking he had accomplished his purpose.

Dick made no answer. He knew that if he did not hold that arm which
gripped the sword he was as good as dead, and quick as lightning he took
the only step to retain it. As the blade flew beneath his arm, and the
man's hand crashed against his side, he brought his own arm down,
jamming the native's hand there. Then he shook his hand from his
shoulder, and lifting his own blade, plunged it with all his force into
his enemy's breast.

Hardly had the man fallen at his feet, when a series of shouts rang out,
rifles blazed from the stockade, and ere he could move half a dozen
natives were upon him. For Dick had made one miscalculation. He had
forgotten that he was dealing with men who were from their youth trained
as warriors, men accustomed to the trail, to forest warfare, and to
every form of artifice. He had not recollected that these Ashanti
fighters had the acutest hearing and phenomenal sight, and he, a mere
white man, accustomed to city life, had imagined that he could creep
through them. Bitterly was he mistaken, for one had first suspected the
presence of an enemy and had then followed, while a comrade, discovering
the fact in some subtle manner, had come on his tracks, five others
following. Gradually they had gained on the chase, so that when Dick
struck their leader down the rest were almost on him. Again there was a
shout, taken up by a score of voices around the clearing, and in a
second a fierce hand-to-hand contest had commenced.

"The white man! The white man! Take him alive! Do not kill him!"

It was James Langdon's voice, coming from close at hand, for the news
that some one was astir had been sent to him and he had followed.

"I give yo