He pointed his rifle directly at Fred, and the next second fired it, but not intentionally.  Coutlass sprang from behind him, having crawled out through a shadow, and hit him so hard with a stone on the back of the skull that he loosed off the rifle and pitched head-foremost down among us.  The Greek promptly jumped on top of him with a yell like a maniac’s, failing to land with both heels on his backbone by nothing but luck.  As it was, he lost balance and sat down so hard on Schillingschen’s head that there was no need of the energy with which we all followed suit, piling all over him to pin him down like hounds that have rolled their quarry over.

The German was stunned—­knocked into utter oblivion—­breathing like a sleeping drunkard, and bleeding freely from the nose.  Coutlass jumped off him and began to execute a war dance up and down, yelling like a madman until Fred threatened him with the rifle and Will gagged him from behind.

“Do you want his armed men down on us, you ass?”

“Gassharamminy!” he laughed.  “I forgot about them!  Let us go and eat their supper!” He spoke as a man who had full right now to be considered a member in good standing.  We all noticed it, and exchanged glances; but that was no time for argument about men’s rights.

Brown was already over the rim of the hollow and making in the direction of the tents.  We called him back and compelled him to stay on guard over the prisoners, to his awful disgust, for he suspected there was whisky among Schillingschen’s “chop-boxes.”  But so did we!  We left all our boys with him except Kazimoto, threatening them with hitherto unheard of penalties if they dared as much as show a lock of hair above the rim of the hollow while we were gone.

Then the rest of us, with Fred leading and Kazimoto last of all, crept out and sought the lowest level along which to reach the camp.  Will had taken Schillingschen’s rifle and went next after Fred. Coutlass followed so close on my heels that more than once he trod on them, and once so nearly tripped me that Fred called a halt behind some bushes and cursed me for clumsiness.

But it turned out to be easy hunting.  The ten boys had tied the donkeys up to a rope in line and sat crooning while their supper cooked at a long bright fire.  We came up to Schillingschen’s tent from behind, crept around the side of it, and in a moment had three more good weapons, I taking the big-bore elephant gun that had dealt with us so savagely on the lake, Coutlass seizing another Mauser, and Kazimoto adopting the shot-gun.

The rest was child’s play.  We marched out of the tent all abreast and called on the ten boys to surrender, making them put up their hands until Coutlass had found their five rifles and ammunition.  They were too astonished even to ask questions.  Accustomed to Schillingschen’s despotic orders, they obeyed ours silently, showing no symptoms of trying to bolt, having nowhere to bolt to; but we took precautions.