he latter with a blow from the butt
of his pistol. The rest of the English and Germans were engaged in a
hand-to-hand encounter. Plesser and Hindle standing aside from the
melee and urging their comrades to surrender and join with the English
against the tyranny of von Schoenvorts. Heinz and Klatz, possibly
influenced by their exhortation, were putting up but a half-hearted
resistance; but Dietz, a huge, bearded, bull-necked Prussian, yelling
like a maniac, sought to exterminate the Englische schweinhunde with
his bayonet, fearing to fire his piece lest he kill some of his
comrades.

It was Olson who engaged him, and though unused to the long German
rifle and bayonet, he met the bull-rush of the Hun with the cold, cruel
precision and science of English bayonet-fighting. There was no
feinting, no retiring and no parrying that was not also an attack.
Bayonet-fighting today is not a pretty thing to see--it is not an
artistic fencing-match in which men give and take--it is slaughter
inevitable and quickly over.

Dietz lunged once madly at Olson's throat. A short point, with just a
twist of the bayonet to the left sent the sharp blade over the
Englishman's left shoulder. Instantly he stepped close in, dropped his
rifle through his hands and grasped it with both hands close below the
muzzle and with a short, sharp jab sent his blade up beneath Dietz's
chin to the brain. So quickly was the thing done and so quick the
withdrawal that Olson had wheeled to take on another adversary before
the German's corpse had toppled to the ground.

But there were no more adversaries to take on. Heinz and Klatz had
thrown down their rifles and with hands above their heads were crying
"Kamerad! Kamerad!" at the tops of their voices. Von Schoenvorts
still lay where he had fallen. Plesser and Hindle were explaining to
Bradley that they were glad of the outcome of the fight, as they could
no longer endure the brutality of the U-boat commander.

The remainder of the men were looking at the girl who now advanced
slowly, her bow ready, when Bradley turned toward her and held out his
hand.

"Co-Tan," he said, "unstring your bow--these are my friends, and
yours." And to the Englishmen: "This is Co-Tan. You who saw her save
me from Schwartz know a part of what I owe her."

The rough men gathered about the girl, and when she spoke to them in
broken English, with a smile upon her lips enhancing the charm of her
irresistible accent, e