The Incas approached closer at our
rear; I felt one of them grasp me from behind, and in an excess
of fury I shook him off and dashed him backward against the
rocks. We were able to make little headway, or none; by taking to
the exit we appeared to have set our own death-trap.
Harry went on with Desiree, and I stayed behind in the attempt to
check the attack. They came at me from both sides. I was faint
and bleeding, and barely able to wield my spear--my last one. I
gave way by inches, retreating backward step by step, fighting
with the very end of my strength.
Suddenly Harry's voice came, shouting that they had reached the
end of the passage. I turned then and sprang desperately from
rock to rock after them, with the Incas crowding close after me.
I stumbled and nearly fell, but recovered my footing and
staggered on. And suddenly the mass of rocks ended abruptly, and
I fell forward onto flat, level ground by the side of Desiree and
Harry.
"Your spear!" I gasped. "Quick--they are upon us!"
But they grasped my arms and dragged me away from the passage to
one side. I was half fainting from exhaustion and loss of blood,
and scarcely knew what they did.
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