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A few shots were fired into the camp on the night of the arrival at Mingaora, but the villagers, fearing lest they should suffer, turned out and drove the "snipers" away. On the 21st a reconnaissance as far as the Kotke Pass afforded much valuable information as to the nature of the country.
After one or more unsuccessful shots, the bull usually started for the nearest thicket, or the river; then our ropes came into use. The work was very slow; for though we operated in pairs, the first week we did not average a hide a day to the man; after killing, there was the animal to skin, the hide to be dragged from a saddle pommel into a hide yard and pegged out to dry.
Spouts of fire shot out into the gloom in terrific succession, as if fiery serpents were darting their heads in different directions; for the marksman aimed, quickly to the right, to the left and to the front, never pausing until he had discharged half a score of shots. The panic for a minute or two was indescribable.
Early in the evening shots were heard on the outer picket line, and a little later two men came to the commanding officers tent bringing with them a native. "He was trying to come through our lines and get into the camp, sir," they reported. "Two men fired at him, but missed him." "Think he's a spy?" the commander asked of another officer who was with him.
Then he saw the sentries dart away in pursuit of Jack, while Muller whipped out a revolver and fired three shots into the air. "That's an alarm," Bob said to himself. "I'd better back off before this place is alive with soldiers." Turning, he ran through the trees. Big Bob was not the one to desert a friend, but he saw no chance to help Jack now.
If, on the other hand, the animal should be large and dangerous, there cannot be a greater mistake than the hollow Express projectile. I have frequently heard persons of great experience dilate with satisfaction upon the good shots made with their little '450 hollow Express exactly behind the shoulder of a tiger or some other animal.
Silence, after the shots and yells, seemed weird, and the groping giant, trying to follow Pike, resembled a huge phantom. With one wrench he tore off a leg of the overturned table and brandished that. He swayed now, and there was a whistle where before there had been a roar. Pike fell over the body of Blicky and got up again.
A large number of men were at once set to work, breaking down the bridges and throwing up a breastwork along the bank, where the river made a sharp bend, crossing the valley from the foot of the hills on one side to that of those on the other. While this work was being done cannon shots were heard, then a distant rattle of musketry.
Usually he was able to take good care of himself; could it be possible that some inmate of the dilapidated shack had stolen upon him, bent upon robbery? In that case, how account for the shots? "Let's shout," said Bluff again. "A bright thought, and surely it can do no harm. Let me call singly, Bluff." Thereupon Frank lifted up his voice and shouted: "Jerry! Jerry! Where are you?"
The old one, roused to anger by the injury done to his offspring, snarled ferociously at his enemies and, drawing himself to his full height, made a furious dash for Gazen. Our rifles cracked again and again; the monster started as he felt the shots, and halted, glaring from one to another of us like a man irresolute.
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