Prev | Current Page 256 | Next

Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"

The first got my spear full in the face--a blow rather
than a thrust, for I had once or twice had difficulty in
retrieving it when I had buried it deep.
As he fell I struck at the one behind. He grasped the spear with
his hand, but I jerked it free and brought it down on his head,
crushing him to the ground. It was mere butchery; they hadn't a
chance in the world to get at me. Another fell, and the rest
retreated. The crevice was again clear, save for the bodies of
the three who had fallen.
I turned to where Harry and Desiree were seated on the further
edge of the ledge. Her body rested against his; her head lay on
his shoulder.
As I looked at them, smiling, her eyes suddenly opened wide and
she sprang to her feet and started toward me.
"Paul! You are hurt! Harry, a bandage--quick; your shirt--
anything!"
I looked down at the gash on my leg, which was bleeding somewhat
freely.
"It's nothing," I declared; "a mere tear in the skin. But your
ankle! I thought it was sprained?"
She had reached my side and bent over to examine my wound; but I
raised her in my arms and held her before me.
"That," I said, "is nothing.


Pages:
244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268