at a short distance, a female figure cautiously emerging from between the bushes and stealthily creep beneath the vehicle, to the wheels of which the Collector had been bound.  This was the wife of the head clerk, the pretty three-quarter caste, whose presence of mind, courage and forethought had so largely contributed to their deliverance.  Rapidly but surely, with the hunting knife given her by Captain Crosby, she cut the cords that bound her husband and his companions, who, when they found they were released, rushed forward and possessed themselves of the weapons of the fallen mutineers, and immediately commenced an attack on their flank and rear, in hopes of rendering some assistance to their brave defenders.

Moving quickly, but in such a way as not to attract notice, Mrs. de Mello, released the Collector’s wife and the other ladies from their unpleasant and exposed position, and one by one removed them for safety within the cover of the jungle in case of any chance shot or blow injuring them.  A brief time served to restore the ladies to something like tranquility, and enable them to arrange their attire to the best advantage under the circumstances, and evincing in the highest manner their thanks and gratitude to her who had, with such peril to herself, relieved them from a fate, to them, worse than death itself.

The unexpected release of the prisoners, and the attack made on their flank and rear by them, totally confounded the mutineers, and rendered all escape on their part impossible or nearly so, while Arthur and his friends, seeing the addition to their number, and being about equally matched—­numerically speaking—­changed their tactics from the defensive to the offensive, and attacked their opponents in right good earnest, and with such skill and determination did they use their weapons that they very shortly brought the contest to a close.  Eleven of the mutinous rascals lay stone dead upon the blood-stained sod, and five others so fatally wounded that it would be impossible for them to survive another hour, three more were slightly injured, but sufficiently so to render them for the present hors de combat, while the one remaining wretch who had escaped scathless had sullenly thrown down his arms and stood looking on in moody silence.  Every one of the brave little party that had come thus opportunely to the rescue, had been more or less injured by the Tulwas and pistol shots of the black Sowas, but in no case did their wounds render them unfit for active service; rest for a few days, together with some sticking plaster, was all that they needed to enable them to take the field again.  Of the mutineers, the five mortally wounded were left to keep guard over the eleven dead, the remaining four were bound and lashed to one of the garries belonging to the Collector.  The oaths and imprecations of these wretched beings at the failure of their project and the position they now found themselves in, were something fearful to listen to.