ber which grew in profusion near by. Half the men
labored while the other half stood guard, alternating each hour with an
hour off at noon. Olson directed this work. Bradley, von Schoenvorts
and I, with Miss La Rue's help, staked out the various buildings and
the outer wall. When the day was done, we had quite an array of logs
nicely notched and ready for our building operations on the morrow, and
we were all tired, for after the buildings had been staked out we all
fell in and helped with the logging--all but von Schoenvorts. He,
being a Prussian and a gentleman, couldn't stoop to such menial labor
in the presence of his men, and I didn't see fit to ask it of him, as
the work was purely voluntary upon our part. He spent the afternoon
shaping a swagger-stick from the branch of jarrah and talking with Miss
La Rue, who had sufficiently unbent toward him to notice his existence.

We saw nothing of the wild men of the previous day, and only once were
we menaced by any of the strange denizens of Caprona, when some
frightful nightmare of the sky swooped down upon us, only to be driven
off by a fusillade of bullets. The thing appeared to be some variety
of pterodactyl, and what with its enormous size and ferocious aspect
was most awe-inspiring. There was another incident, too, which to me
at least was far more unpleasant than the sudden onslaught of the
prehistoric reptile. Two of the men, both Germans, were stripping a
felled tree of its branches. Von Schoenvorts had completed his
swagger-stick, and he and I were passing close to where the two worked.

One of them threw to his rear a small branch that he had just chopped
off, and as misfortune would have it, it struck von Schoenvorts across
the face. It couldn't have hurt him, for it didn't leave a mark; but
he flew into a terrific rage, shouting: "Attention!" in a loud voice.
The sailor immediately straightened up, faced his officer, clicked his
heels together and saluted. "Pig!" roared the Baron, and struck the
fellow across the face, breaking his nose. I grabbed von Schoenvorts'
arm and jerked him away before he could strike again, if such had been
his intention, and then he raised his little stick to strike me; but
before it descended the muzzle of my pistol was against his belly and
he must have seen in my eyes that nothing would suit me better than an
excuse to pull the trigger. Like all his kind and all other bullies,
von Schoenvorts was a coward at heart,