When the conversation ceased, he hoped the loud-voiced savage would descend.  But no!  The scout looked into the valley, at the well, the house, the cave.  Still he did not see the ledge.  At that unlucky moment three birds, driven from the trees on the crest by the passage of the Dyaks, flew down the face of the cliff and began a circling quest for some safe perch on which to alight.

Jenks swore with an emphasis not the less earnest because it was mute, and took steady aim at the Dyak’s left breast.  The birds fluttered about in ever smaller circles.  Then one of them dropped easily on to the lip of the rock.  Instantly his bright eyes encountered those of the man, and he darted off with a scream that brought his mates after him.

The Dyak evidently noted the behavior of the birds—­his only lore was the reading of such signs—­and gazed intently at the ledge.  Jenks he could not distinguish behind the screen of grass.  He might perhaps see some portion of the tarpaulin covering the stores, but at the distance it must resemble a weather-beaten segment of the cliff.  Yet something puzzled him.  After a steady scrutiny he turned and yelled to others on the beach.

The crucial moment had arrived.  Jenks pressed the trigger, and the Dyak hurtled through the air, falling headlong out of sight.

The sound of this, the first shot of real warfare, awoke Rainbow Island into tremendous activity.  The winged life of the place filled the air with raucous cries, whilst shouting Dyaks scurried in all directions.  Several came into the valley.  Those nearest the fallen man picked him up and carried him to the well.  He was quite dead, and, although amidst his other injuries they soon found the bullet wound, they evidently did not know whence the shot came, for those to whom he shouted had no inkling of his motive, and the slight haze from the rifle was instantly swept away by the breeze.

Iris could hear the turmoil beneath, and she tremulously asked—­

“Are they going to attack us?”

“Not yet,” was the reassuring answer.  “I killed the fellow who saw us before he could tell the others.”

It was a bold risk, and he had taken it, though, now the Dyaks knew for certain their prey had not escaped, there was no prospect of their speedy departure.  Nevertheless the position was not utterly hopeless.  None of the enemy could tell how or by whom their companion had been shot.  Many among the excited horde jabbering beneath actually looked at the cliff over and over again, yet failed to note the potentialities of the ledge, with its few tufts of grass growing where seeds had apparently been blown by the wind or dropped by passing birds.

Jenks understood, of course, that the real danger would arise when they visited the scene of their comrade’s disaster.  Even then the wavering balance of chance might cast the issue in his favor.  He could only wait, with ready rifle, with the light of battle lowering in his eyes.  Of one thing at least he was certain—­before they conquered him he would levy a terrible toll.