he thrust the point of his bayonet through the
shield, and so got it entangled, he was done, for his active opponent
would step within distance, and cut him down in a moment. As if to
force him to risk this, the Arab suddenly crouched down, and covering
himself well with his shield, made a spring at him, cutting at his left
arm. Kavanagh jumped back and saved his wrist, but it was so near a
thing that the edge of the sword touched his hand, severing the little
finger, which fell on the ground, and making a deep cut in the rifle
stock. Unaware of the mutilation, Kavanagh re-posted, darting out his
weapon over the shield with his right-hand, and piercing his enemy
through the neck.

But even for such a wound as that the brave Soudanese would not be
denied, but forced his way to close quarters, and cut his enemy over the
side of the head; a blow which would have been instantly fatal had it
been delivered with his accustomed force, but the wound through the
shoulder took the strength out of it, and loss of blood and the shock of
the throat wound helped to weaken him; indeed, his sword dropped from
his hand with the effort. Kavanagh, almost blind with the blood which
deluged his face, shortened arms and sought to transfix his assailant,
who, however, managed to seize the muzzle of the rifle and close, and a
species of rough-and-tumble conflict ensued for about half a minute,
each striving to throw the other, and both as weak as babies.

Kavanagh, however, had most strength left, for though both were losing
much blood, that which ebbed from the Arab drained more important veins,
and the wound in his throat especially was terrible. His grasp relaxed,
his eyes lost the light of fanaticism and the joy of combat, and grew
filmy and expressionless, and he fell heavily at the foot of a gigantic,
blubber-lipped statue.

Kavanagh caught up his rifle and turned the bayonet downwards, but there
was no fight left in his foe, and in spite of the customs of this
barbarous war he could not thrust. So he left the Arab lying there, and
staggered to the portal, where he was forced to lean against a pillar,
so giddy and faint was he. He had enough strength and wits left,
however, to slip a cartridge into his rifle and fire it off, as a guide
to his friends where to find him; and it was as well he did so, as they
were searching for him close by, and might not have hit upon the
entrance to the cave-temple for some time, so curiously wa