As there was nothing else to be done Alan took Jeekie’s advice and in time fell fast asleep, nor did he wake again till the faint light which for the want of a better name they called dawn, was filtering down to them through the canopy of boughs.

“Been to look,” said Jeekie as he handed him his coffee.  “Hit that dwarf man, see his blood, but think others carry him away.  Jeekie very good shot, stone, spear, arrow, or gun, all same to him.  Now get off as quick as we can before porters smell a rat.  You eat chop, Major, I pack.”

Presently they started on their trudge through those endless trees, with Fear for a companion.  Even the porters, who had been told nothing, seemed more afraid than usual, though whether this was because they “smell rat,” as Jeekie called it, or owing to the progressive breakdown of their nervous systems, Alan did not know.  About midday they stopped to eat because the men were too tired to walk further without rest.  For an hour or more they had been looking for a comparatively open place, but as it chanced could find none, so were obliged to halt in dense forest.  Just as they had finished their meal and were preparing to proceed, that which they had feared, happened, since from somewhere behind the tree boles came a volley of reed arrows.  One struck a porter in the neck, one fixed itself in Alan’s helmet without touching him, and no less than three hit Jeekie on the back and stuck there, providentially enough in the substance of the cork mattress that he still carried on his shoulders, which the feeble shafts had not the strength to pierce.

Everybody sprang up and with a curious fascination instead of attempting to do anything, watched the porter who had been hit in the neck somewhere in the region of the jugular vein.  The poor man rose to his feet with great deliberation, reminding Alan in some grotesque way of a speaker who has suddenly been called on to address a meeting and seeks to gain time for the gathering of his thoughts.  Then he turned towards that vast audience of the trees, stretched out his hand with a declamatory gesture, said something in a composed voice, and fell upon his face stone dead!  The swift poison had reached his heart and done its work.

His three companions looked at him for a moment and the next with a yell of terror, rushed off into the forest, hurling down their loads as they ran.  What became of them Alan never learned, for he saw them no more, and the dwarf people keep their secrets.  At the time indeed he scarcely noticed their departure, for he was otherwise engaged.

One of their hideous little assailants, made bold by success, ventured to run across an open space between two trees, showing himself for a moment.  Alan had a gun in his hand, and mad with rage at what had happened, he raised it and swung on him as he would upon a rabbit.  He was a quick and practised shot and his skill did not fail him now, for just as the dwarf was vanishing behind a tree, the bullet caught him and next instant he was seen rolling over and over upon its further side.