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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"

Soon the raft was beached
and pulled well away from the water, and the fish--I was amazed
at its size--followed.
They drew forth the spears and laid them on the ground, as they
had done formerly; and, laying hold on the immense fish, still
floundering ponderously about, began to drag it toward the mouth
of the passage.
"Now," whispered Harry, and as he stood close at my side I could
feel his body draw together for the spring.
I laid a hand on his arm.
"Not yet. Others may be waiting for them in the passage. Wait
till they return."
In a few minutes they reappeared in the light of the flaming
urns. I waited till they had advanced half-way to the water's
edge, some thirty feet away. Then I whispered to Harry: "You for
the left, me for the right," and released my hold on his arm, and
the next instant we were bounding furiously across the ledge.
Taken by surprise, the Incas offered no resistance whatever. The
momentum of our assault carried them to the ground; their heads
struck the hard granite with fearful force and they lay stunned.
Harry, kneeling over them, looked up at me with a question in his
eyes.
"The lake," said I, for it was no time for squeamishness.


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