A FEW VOLCANIC DOG-BISCUIT
from the jungle, and a myriad of lights appeared on the border of the wood.
"‘Don't shoot until they approach,' commanded Tib, at once detecting the ruse, which was to get us to empty our guns and allow some of them to dash up to the bungalow.
"We could see the lights rush back and forth, weaving in and out, but we held back our lead. Then, from opposite directions, four of them started for us, with several more in the rear to take their places if they should fall.
"They were certainly fanatics, all right. And yet this time, by some very clever shooting, we stopped them more easily than we did on the first occasion, and the brush was not set afire.
"‘I guess we can check 'em unless they all come in a bunch,' decided Tib, wiping the smoke and powder from his face.
"‘It's all up,' hoarsely growled Danby. 'We have only a round of cartridges apiece.'
"You'll admit, sir, that was discouraging, and even old Tib struck his head in despair and sat down to think. Next, to my great surprise, he jumped up and began to whistle a gem from a comic opera he once floated. I concluded his mind was affected.
"While Danby and I were watching the innumerable lights dodging back and forth in the forest, he
277
