Jack Haydon's Quest

CHAPTER X.

"This is the sahib's son," said Buck, pointing to Jack, and the Burman bent very politely.

"I am very glad to know you, Me Dain," said Jack. "My father has spoken very well of you."

"The Sahib was always kind to the poorest and worst of his servants," replied the Burman. "I, Me Dain, was always glad to be of use to so kind a master."

"Come aside with me, Me Dain," said Buck, and the whole party moved out of earshot of the inquisitive Chetti, hanging about to hear what passed between the sahibs and his neighbour.

In two minutes Me Dain agreed to go with them. They had no difficulty whatever in enlisting him. Despite his monied leisure and his new house, Me Dain was already bored by the quiet life of his native village, where nothing happened save that a river-steamer selling goods called once a week. He was already longing for the trail and the camp fire, and closed without delay on the good offer Jack made him to act as guide to the region where Mr. Haydon had been surveying Lane & Baumann's concession.

"When we start?" asked Me Dain.

"To-morrow morning," said Jack, and the Burman grinned.

"Then we be very busy at once," he replied, and their preparations for the march were commenced forthwith.

"Can't we manage without coolies?" said Jack, and Buck nodded.

"Best plan," said Jim Dent. "Just the four of us, and a couple of ponies to carry the traps." And so it was decided.

The dawn of the next day saw them afoot and leaving the rest-house. Their baggage was strapped on a couple of Burmese ponies, strong, shapely little beasts, not more than twelve hands high, hardy as wild boars, nimble as cats.

Me Dain marched ahead with the ponies, and the three comrades walked behind. The Burman followed a country road which soon took them through tall palm groves out of sight of the river, and then began to climb upwards. They made a march of four hours, when a halt was called on a lofty ridge, where they sat down in a little clearing to eat and rest.

"That's the country we've got to push through," said Jim Dent, and pointed ahead.

Jack gazed eagerly on the magnificent scene which filled the vast outlook before him. Peak upon peak, spur upon spur, rose a vast array of wild mountains running to the north-west, till a range of great summits closed in the horizon.

"See that big mountain shining red over there, the one with twin peaks?" continued Jim.

"Yes," said Jack, "I see it plainly."

"That's near upon seventy miles from here," returned Jim, "and lies in the ruby country. That's the finest ground in the whole world for the ruby hunter," and he swung his hand in the direction of the vast sweep of wild hill country into which they were about to plunge.

For three days their march was quite uneventful. By day Me Dain led them along secret ways, sometimes mule tracks, sometimes hidden country roads, sometimes through trackless jungle where he steered a course as straight as a ship at sea. Then, towards evening on the third day, he rejoiced them by describing a village where he intended to spend the night, and at the thought of fresh warm milk, eggs, chickens, fruit, and such like provisions to be obtained there, the four travellers made swinging headway.

Presently Me Dain pointed forward and said, "Here we are," and they saw the slender spire of a pagoda dart above the low trees ahead. A few steps again carried them from the forest path they were following to a narrow track deeply printed with the hoof-marks of cattle.

"Here's the village highway," said Buck, and the Burman looked back and grinned and nodded.

The prospect of a night in a village with an exchange of gossip, a thing so dear to the Burman heart, put speed into his heels. He trotted forward, and the baggage ponies broke into a trot also. Jack, eager to see every new sight on the march through this strange and wonderful land, ran after him, and the two others came leisurely behind. Me Dain vanished round a bend in the path, and, almost as he did so, gave a wild cry.

Jack bounded forward and gave a gasp of astonishment at the extraordinary sight before him. Four little men, clothed in blue, had leapt upon Me Dain from the bushes which lined the way. The powerful Burman was fighting desperately, and the ponies had run on ahead. But the four assailants were too much for him. They beset him on every side, clutching him, grappling with him like four wolves pulling down a deer. But even as Jack came into sight, the strangers had mastered Me Dain, and in a second he was dragged to the ground. With incredible speed and quickness they flung loops of rope around ankles and wrists, ran them taut, and made the Burman a prisoner. Then two of them dropped on Me Dain's legs and arms, and the third seized his hair and dragged his head forward. The fourth leapt a pace back as nimbly as a panther, and swung up a short, broad, heavy sword.

It had all taken place so quickly that Jack had barely jerked his Mauser pistol from his holster when all was ready for the decapitation of their guide. But as the gleaming blade flashed above the head of the little man in blue, Jack laid the muzzle true for his ribs and pulled the trigger. The heavy bullet tore its way through the headsman's body, and with a wild cry he pitched forward on the captive's prostrate form. His three companions vanished into the jungle beside them as Jack ran forward. He did not dare to fire at them, for he might have struck Me Dain. Not one of them rose, but darted away along the ground like four-footed creatures, and just as nimbly. Jack whipped out his knife and slashed the bonds across; the Burman at once leapt to his feet. As he did so, the other two ran up, pistol in hand.

"An attack!" cried Buck. "What's this game? Why, it's a Kachin. You dropped him, Jack?"

"Yes," said Jack, "he was going to lop Me Dain's head off with this sword."

Jim picked the blade up and looked at it carefully.

"A Kachin dah (native sword)," he said. "Did you see any more of them about, Jack?"

"Yes, there were four; three of them have cut into the jungle."

"Come on, sahibs," cried Me Dain, who was very little disturbed by his queer experience, "this dangerous place to stop. Perhaps they come back with jingals (native guns)."

"What do you make of it, Me Dain?" said Buck.

"Dacoits, sahib, dacoits; let us hurry. That man is dead," pointing to his would-be executioner, "but plenty more in the forest." He seized the dah as a weapon for himself, and all four hurried after the ponies, who had come to a stand fifty yards farther along the narrow way.

"Queer business, dacoits so near a village," muttered Jim. "Let's see what the headman has got to say about it."

CHAPTER XI.

"See how it was," said Jim. "This village was raided at daybreak this morning. Not a body has been torn by a wild animal, and the beasts would have been busy enough to-night. Then some of 'em were left lurking about, and they spied Me Dain coming, didn't see us behind, and thought he was coming to the village alone. Of course they slipped out of the bushes and nabbed him, thinking to whiff off his head and turn the ponies' packs out at their own leisure. But Jack upset their little plan, and Me Dain's head stops in the right spot."

"Many thanks, phaya (my lord), many thanks," said Me Dain, bending low before Jack. "Your servant thanks you for his life."

Crack! There was a dull roar as of someone firing a very heavy duck-gun from the forest, and a ball whistled by their heads.

"A jingal!" cried Buck. "We've got to hustle round and find shelter. The dacoits are on us."

"The pagoda, sahibs," cried Me Dain. "It is the only place of stone in the village. Let us hasten there."

He gathered up the leading-reins of the ponies—which had been easily caught—and hurried towards the spire. The others ran swiftly after him, their steps hastened by the roar of a second shot and the whistle of a second heavy ball.

In a couple of minutes they had reached the pagoda and leaped on the platform between the columns which supported the bulb-like roof crowned by its tapering spire. In the centre of the platform was a shrine. Jack glanced quickly round.

"This won't do," he said, "not enough cover here, supposing the dacoits attack us. What's that place?"

He pointed to a new, strongly-built house of stone a short distance from the pagoda.

Me Dain looked at it in surprise. "It has been built since I was here last," he cried.

"Looks just the thing for us," said Jack. "Come on," and the whole party hurried across to the building, whose door stood half open.

"It is a small monastery," cried Me Dain, as they approached, "some rich man has been winning merit since I was last this way. Stay a moment, sahibs; I will enter and see that all is safe." He flung the leading-reins to Buck and darted forward. In a few moments he reappeared, and cried out, "There is no one here but a wounded villager, sahibs. Come on, we shall be safe from the dacoits' guns in this new, strong house."

The party entered through a door formed of strong teak slabs, and Me Dain closed it behind them. They now found themselves in a large, wide apartment, formed of the whole ground floor of the building, from which wooden stairs led to upper rooms.

At the foot of the stairs was huddled a fine-looking old man, whose rich silken kilt and jacket of delicate muslin showed that he was a person of consequence. He had received a severe cut from a dah on the left shoulder, and while Me Dain skilfully bound up the wound, he talked with the old man and learned the story of the affair.

It proved to be the outcome of a blood-feud, one of those savage vendettas so common among the hill-tribes of Burmah. A band of Kachin dacoits had raided near the village some six months before, and three of the dacoits had been cut off and killed by the villagers. Now, in revenge, a strong troop of the savage mountain banditti had fallen upon the village, burning, slaying, plundering without mercy. The old man had fled for refuge to the monastery, his own monastery, for he had built it to house a party of Burmese monks.

"I am Kyaung-Taga Pah, 'Builder of a Monastery Pah,'" he declared proudly, and Me Dain bowed before him in much respect.

It is the great ambition of a wealthy Burman to show his piety by building a pagoda or a monastery, and when he has done so, he is always saluted by his fellows as "Builder of a Monastery," or "Builder of a Pagoda," titles held in very high regard. This was the meaning of Me Dain's phrase about some rich man winning merit, for it is considered that such good works meet with the deep approval of the gods.

When "The Builder of a Monastery," Pah, had finished his story, Buck inquired where the monks were, for, as a rule, such holy men are safe even in blood-feuds. The old Burman replied that they were absent at present. There was a great festival at a large village three days' journey away, and the monks had gone to attend it.

Jim had stayed at the door, keeping watch and ward.

"We're in for a little blood-feud, too," he remarked. "They're dottin' about pretty lively at the edge of the jungle."

Jack ran across to him and saw a large number of little figures in blue flitting through the trees; now and again he caught a flash of steel as some naked dah glittered in the rays of the sinking sun. Buck had come too, and was looking over his comrade's shoulders.

"Say, we shall have to flip our guns a bit before we drive those blood-thirsty little ferrets away," he remarked.

"Yes, they'll do their level best to cut our throats," agreed Jim. "They're like a nest of hornets. Touch one and you've touched the lot."

"Hullo, they're bringing something forward," cried Jack. "It looks like a clumsy gun on a stand."

"That's a jingal," said Jim. "They're laying it for the door. We'll get out of the way. It's a clumsy weapon and a clumsy ball, but if it hits you, you get all you want an' a little bit over. I remember in '85"—for Jim had once been a British redcoat and had fought in the Burmese war—"we were carrying a stockade with a rush, and a chum o' mine got a jingal-ball and went down. He must have been a dead man when he dropped, for we found afterwards that the ball had fairly ripped the inside out of the poor chap."

He closed the door as he finished speaking, and a heavy bar was placed in position across the stout planks. From one of the small, slit-like windows they watched the movements of the dacoits. The jingal, a big muzzle-loader on a stand of iron forks, was touched off and a heavy shot crashed into the door.

"Whew!" whistled Jim. "That's a heavier shot than I thought. That bit of iron weighed nearer half a pound than anything."

"It's cut into the door pretty badly," cried Jack, who had run forward to look, and found a long streak of white in the plank which had been struck. "We shall have to stop that or the door will be down."

"Sure thing," said Buck, "an' those little tigers away to the left o' the jingal are massing for a rush as soon as the gunners have worked the door loose."

"You're right, Buck," said Jack, who had returned to his window. "Look here," he went on, "there are three windows facing that patch of jungle where the dacoits are clustered. We'll take a window apiece. I'll give the word, and we'll empty our magazines into them as fast as we can pull the trigger."

"Good plan," cried Buck. "It will show 'em we're well armed and an awkward lot to tackle, even if we don't scare 'em off."

"There ain't much scare about them, worse luck," said Jim, "but we'll pepper 'em a bit an' see what happens anyhow."

Each of them had unslung his Mannlicher and held it in hand since the moment of the first alarm, and now they opened the magazine and saw that all was in perfect order. Then they threw the deadly little rifles into the embrasures formed by the window slits, and all was ready for the word.

"Fire!" cried Jack, and the swift trill of rifle-cracks rang out on the soft evening silence. As swiftly as they could press finger on trigger, the three comrades emptied their magazines completely into the fringe of forest three hundred yards away. This storm of tiny, whirling slips of lead struck among the dacoits at point blank range, and, by the screams and yells of the banditti, did much execution. The watchers distinctly saw three or four fall, but these were swiftly dragged among the trees by their comrades, and for a moment not a single dacoit was to be seen. Then, just inside the shelter of the trees, five figures were observed very busy placing a new jingal in position. At a glance the besieged saw that the gun was much larger than the first, and would throw a heavier ball.

"We shall have to pick off those fellows at work with the new gun," said Jack. "Perhaps that will terrify them into flight."

"I hope so," said Jim, but there was not much hope in his voice. "The worst of these little chaps is that they never know when they're beaten. They'll give their lives to get yours, as cheerfully as possible."

"And they don't set any high value on their lives, either," chimed in Buck. "Whoever's runnin' the show over there, he'll spend his men's blood like water for the chance o' catchin' us and puttin' us to death as slowly as he can make the time spin out."

"Slowly? Killing us slowly, Buck?" said Jack. "What do you mean?"

"Torture," replied Buck, and the one dreadful word was answer enough.

Crack! It was Jim's Mannlicher which spoke, but the bullet missed its aim. The dacoits at work about the big jingal had artfully placed the weapon so that its mouth pointed from between two close-growing teak saplings, and the trees formed a safe cover for the gunners.

"I thought I could pick one of 'em off that time," remarked Jim, "but I believe I only hit a tree after all."

At this instant a figure was seen for a moment behind the long gun. A dacoit stepped into view, crouched down, and carefully trained the piece. There was a second crack, and the freebooter dropped under the jingal and never moved. Jack had fired and sent a Mannlicher bullet through the dacoit's brain.

"I say, you can shoot a bit," cried Jim Dent admiringly, and Buck chuckled.

"I guess he can, Jim. He put on a very pretty string o' bull's-eyes at Bisley, shootin' in the competition for public schools. The Professor grinned all over his face when he read how Jack headed the list with a highest possible."

Buck's speech was cut short by a loud roar from the jingal. The fallen dacoit had trained it perfectly before he dropped, and a comrade now touched off the piece. At the next moment a terrific crash rang through the building. The heavy missile had lighted full on the point where the door was secured by the stout bar, had smashed its way through door and bar and hurled the door open. As the portal flew back, there was a tremendous yell from the edge of the jungle. Then a cloud of blue figures burst into sight. With gleaming dahs flourished on high, or long-barrelled muskets thrown forward ready to fire, the blood-thirsty little men of the mountains rushed upon their prey.

CHAPTER XII.

The withering storm of bullets poured from the three magazines had no more effect in checking the dacoit rush than if the bullets had been drops of rain. The men actually struck dropped, of course, but their comrades were not in the least terrified by their fall. The short, broad, powerful figures rushed on as undauntedly as ever, their dark, wild faces full of the savage light of battle, their rough, deep voices uniting in a terrible yell of rage and of fierce lust for vengeance. A shower of bullets from their muzzle loaders pattered on the door or whistled in through the windows.

Buck gave a grunt of pain as a bullet cut him across a shoulder; Jim and Jack were untouched. The Kachins did not stay to reload, and in another moment their dark faces and blue forms were massed in the doorway, and the door rang under the tremendous blows delivered upon it by their dahs, weapons so broad and heavy as to be sword and axe in one. The windows, luckily, were too narrow for them to swarm through, and when Jim and Buck could no longer rake the flying crowd, they ran to the door to help their young leader. This was the moment when the Mauser pistol proved itself an invaluable weapon. Quicker and handier in the narrow space than a rifle, it poured its stream of heavy bullets into the assailants in an almost unbroken stream, as the defenders slipped clip after clip, each containing ten cartridges, into the magazine.

Fanatically brave as were the desperate Kachins, this was a punishment too severe for mortal flesh and blood to endure. Of a sudden they broke and fled, leaving a heap of dead and wounded about the door, and a trail of fallen men to mark the track they had followed.

"Are you hurt, Buck?" cried Jack, drawing a long breath. Fiercely as they had been pressed, he had not forgotten Risley's grunt of pain.

"Snicked my shoulder, that's all," replied Buck.

Jim looked at the wound and nodded.

"A snick it is, Buck," he agreed, "and a lucky thing for you. A bit lower, and it would have smashed the bone."

"We'll wash the wound and tie it up," said Jack.

"Later on, later on," murmured Buck. "We've got no time to spare at present. What's the little move next with these boys in blue."

"Do you think they will attack us again?" cried Jack.

"Sure thing," said Buck, "they're a tough crew, I can tell you. We've got a lot more to do before we chill 'em cold."

"That's true," said Dent. "After they smell blood there's no more holdin' them than you can hold a tiger."

"We've punished them terribly already," said Jack.

It was his first battle, and in true English fashion he had fought his hardest for his own life and the lives of his comrades. Now he looked with a troubled eye on the fallen, and sighed.

Jim Dent nodded at him with a friendly smile. "I know just how you feel, Jack," he said. "But the thing is pure necessity. If you hadn't shot that chap back in the path there, he'd have had Me Dain's head off as sure as sin, and after you shot him, the rest followed as straight as a string."

"True, Jim," said Jack, "the whole thing lies at their door."

"Say, Jack," murmured Buck, "you'd better get your Bisley bull's-eye trick on that jingal again. They're goin' to try another shot or two."

Jack ran to the window, and as he did so, the jingal roared, and crash came the heavy shot into the door. It struck a weak place, burst through, and rolled across the floor. In another moment Buck had picked it up and brought it forward.

"Say, boys," murmured Risley, "no wonder this jingal makes the poor old door crack. Look here!" He displayed a ball of iron, nearly the size of a cricket ball.

"By George! What a smasher!" said Dent. "The door's bound to go if they can get two or three of those straight on it."

Jack glanced at the heavy shot, then turned to the window to watch for the gunners in order to check them in working their destructive piece.

"I can't see them," he said. "There's no sign of them at all."

Jim and Buck joined him at once.

"There's the bunch of trees they were at work among," said Dent. "They must have drawn the jingal farther back into the jungle."

"Yes, but if they can shoot at us we ought to be able to see them," said Jack.

"Sure thing," murmured Buck. "Where's the little old cannon gone to?"

In another moment all three gave a cry of surprise. The mystery was made clear before their eyes. A sudden puff of smoke burst from a tangle of vines and creepers twenty yards to the left of the jingals former position, and a second ball crashed into the door, shook every plank in it, and ripped a great piece out where it struck. The dacoits had swiftly cut down and lashed a number of saplings across a couple of trees to form a cover for their gun. Over the slight barricade they had thrown a great tangle of creeping plants, and the whole concealed and protected them in a wonderful fashion.

"They know how to play their own game," said Jack, as he searched the spot with a few bullets. "They're hidden all right."

"Sure thing," said Buck. "They're up to all the tricks of the jungle. I don't see how we're going to stop 'em gettin' the door down now. It's pure luck firin' into that tangle."

Within the next half hour Buck's fears were verified. Shot after shot was launched from the heavy jingal, and at the short range the gunners found the door an easy mark, and pounded it again and again until it was utterly shattered, and the opening into their stronghold was left defenceless. Nor could the besieged make the gap good with any other barrier. Between the firing of the heavy balls a steady fusillade of musketry was poured into the doorway, and no one dared to show himself there.

The three comrades stood each at a narrow window, each with his weapons charged, and his mind sternly resolved to make the banditti pay a heavy price for his life.

"They'll come again soon," muttered Jim Dent. "We must pump lead into 'em like mad as they cross the open, then hold the doorway as long as we can."

"Yes," agreed Jack. "We must not let them get in if there's any way of keeping them out. Once they surround us, their dahs will finish the struggle in a few strokes."

"Say, I fancy I see a bunch of 'em just beyond the jingal," said Buck. He fired, but there was no sign that his bullet had taken effect. "They're gone again," he continued in a tone of disappointment.

There was now silence while each watched the fringe of the jungle with the utmost vigilance. Minute after minute passed, and not a sign appeared of the terrible little dacoits. The jingal was fired no more, the musketry had dropped, and the stillness remained perfectly unbroken. Anyone less experienced in jungle warfare than Jim Dent would have concluded that the fierce Kachins for once had had their fill of fighting, and had retired towards their fastnesses among the hills. But he bade his comrades stand close and be ready.

"There is some trick in the wind," he said. "What it is we shall see before long if we keep our eyes open."

Suddenly into this silence came the sound of heavy blows on the planks over their heads. These planks formed the ceiling of the lower room and the floor of the upper. The noise in this unexpected direction made them jump, and then Buck roared, "Who's aloft?"

The head of Me Dain was now shown at the head of the flight of steps leading to the next story.

"Me up here," said the Burman. "Me got a job." He held in his hand the heavy dah which had so nearly been driven through his own neck, and he now returned to his task without making any further explanation. Buck moved as if to investigate into the Burman's doings, but at this moment Jack gave a cry of surprise, and he turned hastily back to his window.

"What do you see, Jack?" said Dent quickly. "Are they coming?"

"Something's coming," cried Jack, and pointed. "Look straight opposite to us," he went on. "It seems as if a piece of the jungle were moving upon us."

CHAPTER XIII.

So they were. The cunning little men in blue had set their savage hearts on the blood of the white men, and were sparing no effort to compass the destruction of their enemies. But the terrible hail of bullets from those steady rifles was a thing they must avoid, or the attacking party would be wiped out before the shattered door was reached. So they were coming on under cover. The thing was simply enough contrived. They had cut down young palms and saplings and lashed them together with tough creepers. Thus they had formed a little palisade six feet high and fifteen feet along. Into the joints everywhere they had thrust great feathery bushes of the wild plum, completely concealing every sign of themselves. Six of the sturdy little highland caterans were strung along behind the palisade. To their muscles of iron it was the simplest thing in the world to swing the barricade forward a step at a time, and behind them crept a score of their comrades with dah and musket ready for action.

"They'll march right up to us if we can't stop them in some fashion," cried Jack, and he fired his Mannlicher into the palisade. The others followed his example, and for a few moments they searched the oncoming mass of greenery with a close fire.

"There's something behind those bushes of wild plum," said Jim Dent. "Can't you hear the bullets striking into wood? They've formed a big shield of logs, and are pushing it forward."

Now that their advance was known, the Kachins gave up their silence. The bearers began to shout to give each other the time and to make their movements regular and swift. "Ai-ai-Ai!" they shouted. On the last cry they all lifted and swung the barricade a step forward, "Ai-ai-Ai!" On they came again, "Ai-ai-Ai!" Another swing of their burden, and so they cut down the distance foot by foot, and the blood-thirsty little men who crawled after them felt the edges of their dahs and promised to dull the shine of the great blades in the blood of the English sahibs who had shot so many of their friends.

In the building, Jack and his comrades were at their wits' end to know what to do in order to check this deadly advance.

"They're standing us off easily enough," cried Jack. "At the rate they're coming, they'll be up to the door in a quarter of an hour, and then they'll swarm straight in on us. These bullets are too light to check them." Suddenly he turned on Dent, his bright eyes flashing. "Jim, Jim!" he cried, "what are we thinking of? Didn't you pack a heavy big-game rifle among the baggage?"

Jim Dent leapt as if he had been shot.

"Of course I did," he roared. "I put it in on chance of being useful if we had trouble with tigers or a rogue elephant." He darted across to the baggage ponies, who had been tethered in a far corner of the large room, and swiftly cut a case loose. He unstrapped it and drew out an eight-bore rifle, a big powerful weapon. In a corner of the case was a package of the cartridges which fitted the rifle. Jim caught up the packet and ran back to his window.

"The very thing," he breathed in the utmost excitement, "and I stood here like a dummy and never remembered it was with us till you thought of it, Jack. Unless they've got some very stiff stuff in yonder palisade, I'll send a bullet through it as if it was only paper. I've tried this gun with nickel-covered bullets such as these, and sent the bullet through eight one-inch teak planks and five inches of wet sawdust."

"That ought to be good enough," cried Buck. "Pipe the lead into 'em, Jim, and me and Jack will watch for any you drive out of cover if your bullet goes through."

"If," snorted Jim, as he threw open the breech and slipped in the big cartridge, "I'll show you."

He threw the elephant gun forward and fired at the centre of the palisade. There was an instant scream. The immensely powerful weapon had driven the bullet straight through the centre of a palm log, through the body of the dacoit behind, and wounded one of the party following up.

Jim whipped open the breech, and the empty shell flew out, for the rifle was an ejector. His practised hands had another cartridge in and the breech closed in an instant. He fired again and then again, aiming each time at a different spot in the palisade. There was a roar of anger from the hidden Kachins, a roar answered by an exultant shout from the besieged.

"Pipe it into 'em, Jim," roared Buck. "You're gettin' home every shot. Hark at 'em squealin'."

The barricade had now come to a standstill, and it trembled all over every time that it was struck by the heavy bullet travelling at terrific speed at so short a range.

"Fire low, Jim," cried Jack, "they have stopped and are crouching at the foot of the palisade, I know."

Jim fired low, and his shot was answered by a fresh outburst of yells of pain and rage. Suddenly the palisade began to waver, then it slowly fell over, as a stream of blue-clothed figures darted from its insufficient shelter. The dacoits did not make either for the door of the hut nor for the jungle they had left. The pagoda was the nearest cover to them, and they raced for it with all their speed, the quick-firing Mannlichers scourging them with a whistling shower of lead as they flew. When the last Kachin who could run had disappeared behind the building, the comrades checked their fire and looked at each other with joyful eyes. Jim slapped the breech of the eight-bore exultantly.

"It sent every bullet through their shield like a cannon!" he cried. "Lucky I put it in; they'd have got up to the door all right if it hadn't stopped 'em."

"They would, indeed, Jim," replied Jack, "and it would have been all over with us then."

"Sure thing," agreed Buck. "We should ha' hit the long trail in short order."

"What's the next move?" cried Jack.

"Hard to say," replied Jim. "We can do nothing but watch 'em."

Watch them they did. The three comrades kept a steady look-out, but the sun went down, and the swift dark of the tropics fell over jungle and clearing, and the dacoits had given no further sign of their presence. The approach of night filled the besieged with the greatest uneasiness. There was no moon to light the early hours of the darkness, and in the deep gloom the dacoits could creep upon them unseen and swarm over them by sheer force of numbers. But just as dusk fell, Me Dain began to drag down a number of planks and posts from aloft. This was the fruit of his hacking away with the heavy dah. He had cut loose enough timber to make a very useful barrier at the open doorway, and he and Jim made the strongest barricade they could while the others kept watch.

When night fell they kept their places, every ear strained to catch the faintest sound. They had only to watch one side of the ground floor where they stood. Three of the walls were solid and very strongly built; the fourth was pierced by the windows and the door, and here they had taken their stand from the first.

About two hours after dark, Me Dain came to the head of the stairs leading to the next floor. He had been stationed there to move from one to the other of the upper windows and keep strict watch all round.

"Come here now," said Me Dain.

"I'll go," murmured Jack, and he groped his way across the floor to the foot of the wooden steps. Up he went, and found the Burman waiting for him at the top.

"Me think some men this way," muttered Me Dain, and took Jack's shoulder to lead him through the darkness of the unlighted passage above.

"Which way?" whispered Jack eagerly, clutching his rifle. "Are they creeping on us from the back, Me Dain?"

"Me think so," replied the Burman, and led Jack to a long, narrow room at the back of the monastery, a room lighted by a large window. Coming from the blackness of the passages, Jack saw the window clearly, a grey patch in the gloom of the walls. He ran across to it and looked out. The window was high above the ground, twenty feet at least, and looked upon a tangle of low bushes which ran almost to the wall of the building.

"Men in the bushes. Me hear them," said Me Dain.

Jack nodded, and watched intently. The window was a mere hole in the wall, closed, when necessary, by a shutter. At present the shutter was fastened back, and Jack could hear every sound that was made below.

Presently his ears caught a rustling among the bushes, and he threw his rifle forward. Then he returned it to the hollow of his arm. He would wait and see what were the plans of the freebooters now ambushed below. At this moment he found Me Dain's lips at his ear.

"They make ladder and come up here," breathed the Burman.

Jack nodded. That was the idea that had already struck him. Well, it would be easy enough from above to sweep the ladder with a swift rifle fire and drive the dacoits back into their hiding-place.

Then another idea struck him, and he turned it over and over. To drive them back. Yes, that was all right. But it would still leave him and his comrades prisoners with the Kachins in hiding about the monastery and thirsting for their blood. Would it be possible to win a chance of escape out of this? It seemed to him there was a chance, just a bare chance, and he resolved to seize it. He drew Me Dain back into the shadows, and whispered softly, "How many doors lead into this room?"

"One," answered the Burman, who had thoroughly explored the monastery before the dusk fell.

"Can you fasten it?"

"Yes, very easy. Big lock, strong lock, and key in it."

"All right," said Jack. "Now you keep watch on, the men below. I'll be back soon."

CHAPTER XIV.

Jack left his Mannlicher with Buck and slipped away up the stairs once more. He regained the window where Me Dain was watching, and found that the Burman had nothing to relate save that much rustling had been heard. Within five minutes again Jack saw the very thing he had been awaiting. A dark, thin shape rose from the bushes and began slowly to creep up the wall. It was a ladder which the dacoits were raising to the window below which they stood, a ladder formed of a couple of bamboo stems with rungs of creepers.

Now came the time for action, and Jack drew the Burman back into the passage and locked the door himself; luckily the big key turned quietly and easily. Down to the lower floor hurried Jack and crossed to his friends.

"They have raised the ladder just as I expected," he said. "Now I'm off."

"Good luck, Jack, good luck," breathed Jim and Buck earnestly, as Jack dropped on hands and knees at the door and glided out at a hole which they had prepared for him by moving a portion of the barricade. When he found himself in the open, Jack paused for a moment and listened with all his ears. But he could not catch the slightest sound of either voice or movement on this side, and he glided on like a snake, keeping his body very low and pressing closely against the dark wall.

He gained the corner of the building just beyond the door, and cautiously put his head round. Again he listened and looked. All was quiet, and once more he slipped on. Near the next angle was a patch of low-growing bushes. He worked his way into these with the utmost care, and raised his head slowly until he could peer through the upper shoots. He now commanded the rear of the building, and his heart gave a great thump of excitement and satisfaction as he saw the sight which he had been hoping for. He saw the swaying line of the ladder clear against the sky, and mounting it, rung by rung, a line of climbing figures. The dacoits were swarming nimbly up to the quiet room, from which they expected to fall like thunderbolts upon their unsuspecting enemies below.

Jack now began to work his way towards the foot of the ladder. He went very slowly and with the utmost care. At last he paused. The bushes which had helped the banditti to approach the back of the monastery unobserved had helped him too, and he was now within ten yards of the foot of the ladder. He raised himself to one knee and looked intently over the ground. The last of the climbing dacoits was vanishing through the window, high above his head, and one stood motionless below. He, clearly, had been left on guard to keep the foot of the ladder. Now Jack heard plainly a shuffling and creaking and straining above. The Kachins were trying to force the door which he had locked against them.

"Lucky it's a strong door," thought Jack. "It'll keep them busy for a few minutes. How shall I dispose of this fellow?"

Suddenly the crash and uproar of heavy blows rang out from the room above. The dacoits had given up trying to force the door quietly, and were beating it down. This noise gave Jack a chance of a thousand to carry out his plan. He had slung his rifle over his shoulder. He now unslung it quickly, clubbed it, and bounded forward. The dacoit at the foot of the ladder was staring upwards, intent on the doings of his comrades, when Jack landed without a sound scarce a yard behind him.