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Like a bolt he bore down upon me, but, fortunately for me, I did not lose my

head. I guessed that no bullet would kill him instantly. I doubted that I could

pierce his skull. There was hope, though, in finding his heart through his

exposed chest, or, better yet, of breaking his shoulder or foreleg, and bringing

him up long enough to pump more bullets into him and finish him.

I covered his left shoulder and pulled the trigger as he was almost upon me. It

stopped him. With a terrific howl of pain and rage, the brute rolled over and over

upon the ground almost to my feet. As he came I pumped two more bullets into

him, and as he struggled to rise, clawing viciously at me, I put a bullet in his

spine.

That finished him, and I am free to admit that I was mighty glad of it. There was a

great tree close behind me, and, stepping within its shade, I leaned against it,

wiping the perspiration from my face, for the day was hot, and the exertion and

excitement left me exhausted.

I stood there, resting, for a moment, preparatory to turning and retracing my

steps to the launch, when, without warning, something whizzed through space

straight toward me. There was a dull thud of impact as it struck the tree, and as

I dodged to one side and turned to look at the thing I saw a heavy spear imbedded

in the wood not three inches from where my head had been.

The thing had come from a little to one side of me, and, without waiting to

investigate at the instant, I leaped behind the tree, and, circling it, peered around

the other side to get a sight of my would-be murderer.

This time I was pitted against men--the spear told me that all too plainly--but so

long as they didn't take me unawares or from behind I had little fear of them.

Cautiously I edged about the far side of the trees until I could obtain a view of the

spot from which the spear must have come, and when I did I saw the head of a

man just emerging from behind a bush.

The fellow was quite similar in type to those I had seen upon the Isle of Wight.

He was hairy and unkempt, and as he finally stepped into view I saw that he was

garbed in the same primitive fashion.

He stood for a moment gazing about in search of me, and then he advanced. As

he did so a number of others, precisely like him, stepped from the concealing

verdure of nearby bushes and followed in his wake. Keeping the trees between

them and me, I ran back a short distance until I found a clump of underbrush

that would effectually conceal me, for I wished to discover the strength of the

party and its armament before attempting to parley with it.

The Lost Continent