eful
foliage, they were bound to the brown rock, which soon would glow with
radiated energy and give off scorching gusts like unto the opening of a
furnace-door.

This he had foreseen all along. The tarpaulin would yield them some
degree of uneasy protection, and they both were in perfect physical
condition. But--if Iris were wounded! If the extra strain brought fever
in its wake! That way he saw nothing but blank despair, to be ended,
for her, by delirium and merciful death, for him by a Berserk rush
among the Dyaks, and one last mad fight against overwhelming numbers.

Then the girl's voice reached him, self-reliant, almost cheerful--

"You will be glad to hear that the cut has stopped bleeding. It is only
a scratch."

So a kindly Providence had spared them yet a little while. The cloud
passed from his mind, the gathering mist from his eyes. In that instant
he thought he detected a slight rustling among the trees where the
cliff shelved up from the house. Standing as he was on the edge of the
rock, this was a point he could not guard against.

When her welcome assurance recalled his scattered senses, he stepped
back to speak to her, and in the same instant a couple of bullets
crashed against the rock overhead. Iris had unwittingly saved him from
a serious, perhaps fatal, wound.

He sprang to the extreme right of the ledge and boldly looked into the
trees beneath. Two Dyaks were there, belated wanderers cut off from the
main body. They dived headlong into the undergrowth for safety, but one
of them was too late. The Lee-Metford reached him, and its
reverberating concussion, tossed back and forth by the echoing rocks,
drowned his parting scream.

In the plenitude of restored vigor the sailor waited for no counter
demonstration. He turned and crouchingly approached the southern end of
his parapet. Through his screen of grass he could discern the long
black hair and yellow face of a man who lay on the sand and twisted his
head around the base of the further cliff. The distance, oft measured,
was ninety yards, the target practically a six-inch bull's-eye. Jenks
took careful aim, fired, and a whiff of sand flew up.

Perhaps he had used too fine a sight and ploughed a furrow beneath the
Dyak's ear. He only heard a faint yell, but the enterprising head
vanished and there were no more volunteers for that particular service.

He was still peering at the place when a cry of unmitigated anguish
came from Iris--

"Oh,