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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"


Then I found the taut, straining fingers about his throat, and
lunged forward with the knife--and the fingers relaxed.
Again we were fighting together side by side.
As their bodies fell in front of us we were pressed harder, for
those behind climbed up on the corpses of their fellows and
literally descended on our heads from the air. We could not have
held out much longer; our breath was coming in quick, painful
gasps; Harry stumbled on one of the prostrate brutes and fell; I
tried to lift him and was unequal to the task.
It appeared to be the end.
Suddenly there rang throughout the cavern a sound as of a
gigantic, deep-toned bell. The walls sent it back and forth with
deafening echoes; it was as though the mountain had descended
with one tremendous crash into its own bowels.
As though by magic, the assault ceased.
The effect was indescribable. We could see nothing; we merely
became suddenly aware that there were no longer hands clutching
at our throats or hairy bodies crushing us to the ground. It was
as though the horde of unseen devils had melted into thin air.
There were movements on the ground, for many of them had been
wounded; a man cannot always reach the spot in the dark.


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