THE COMPLETE PROFESSOR CHALLENGER SERIES. Arthur Conan Doyle

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      “Shoot into the thick of them! Shoot! sonny, shoot!” cried my companion.

      There are strange red depths in the soul of the most commonplace man. I am tenderhearted by nature, and have found my eyes moist many a time over the scream of a wounded hare. Yet the blood lust was on me now. I found myself on my feet emptying one magazine, then the other, clicking open the breech to re-load, snapping it to again, while cheering and yelling with pure ferocity and joy of slaughter as I did so. With our four guns the two of us made a horrible havoc. Both the guards who held Summerlee were down, and he was staggering about like a drunken man in his amazement, unable to realize that he was a free man. The dense mob of ape-men ran about in bewilderment, marveling whence this storm of death was coming or what it might mean. They waved, gesticulated, screamed, and tripped up over those who had fallen. Then, with a sudden impulse, they all rushed in a howling crowd to the trees for shelter, leaving the ground behind them spotted with their stricken comrades. The prisoners were left for the moment standing alone in the middle of the clearing.

      Challenger’s quick brain had grasped the situation. He seized the bewildered Summerlee by the arm, and they both ran towards us. Two of their guards bounded after them and fell to two bullets from Lord John. We ran forward into the open to meet our friends, and pressed a loaded rifle into the hands of each. But Summerlee was at the end of his strength. He could hardly totter. Already the ape-men were recovering from their panic. They were coming through the brushwood and threatening to cut us off. Challenger and I ran Summerlee along, one at each of his elbows, while Lord John covered our retreat, firing again and again as savage heads snarled at us out of the bushes. For a mile or more the chattering brutes were at our very heels. Then the pursuit slackened, for they learned our power and would no longer face that unerring rifle. When we had at last reached the camp, we looked back and found ourselves alone.

      So it seemed to us; and yet we were mistaken. We had hardly closed the thornbush door of our zareba, clasped each other’s hands, and thrown ourselves panting upon the ground beside our spring, when we heard a patter of feet and then a gentle, plaintive crying from outside our entrance. Lord Roxton rushed forward, rifle in hand, and threw it open. There, prostrate upon their faces, lay the little red figures of the four surviving Indians, trembling with fear of us and yet imploring our protection. With an expressive sweep of his hands one of them pointed to the woods around them, and indicated that they were full of danger. Then, darting forward, he threw his arms round Lord John’s legs, and rested his face upon them.

      “By George!” cried our peer, pulling at his moustache in great perplexity, “I say — what the deuce are we to do with these people? Get up, little chappie, and take your face off my boots.”

      Summerlee was sitting up and stuffing some tobacco into his old briar.

      “We’ve got to see them safe,” said he. “You’ve pulled us all out of the jaws of death. My word! it was a good bit of work!”

      “Admirable!” cried Challenger. “Admirable! Not only we as individuals, but European science collectively, owe you a deep debt of gratitude for what you have done. I do not hesitate to say that the disappearance of Professor Summerlee and myself would have left an appreciable gap in modern zoological history. Our young friend here and you have done most excellently well.”

      He beamed at us with the old paternal smile, but European science would have been somewhat amazed could they have seen their chosen child, the hope of the future, with his tangled, unkempt head, his bare chest, and his tattered clothes. He had one of the meat-tins between his knees, and sat with a large piece of cold Australian mutton between his fingers. The Indian looked up at him, and then, with a little yelp, cringed to the ground and clung to Lord John’s leg.

      “Don’t you be scared, my bonnie boy,” said Lord John, patting the matted head in front of him. “He can’t stick your appearance, Challenger; and, by George! I don’t wonder. All right, little chap, he’s only a human, just the same as the rest of us.”

      “Really, sir!” cried the Professor.

      “Well, it’s lucky for you, Challenger, that you ARE a little out of the ordinary. If you hadn’t been so like the king ——”

      “Upon my word, Lord John, you allow yourself great latitude.”

      “Well, it’s a fact.”

      “I beg, sir, that you will change the subject. Your remarks are irrelevant and unintelligible. The question before us is what are we to do with these Indians? The obvious thing is to escort them home, if we knew where their home was.”

      “There is no difficulty about that,” said I. “They live in the caves on the other side of the central lake.”

      “Our young friend here knows where they live. I gather that it is some distance.”

      “A good twenty miles,” said I.

      Summerlee gave a groan.

      “I, for one, could never get there. Surely I hear those brutes still howling upon our track.”

      As he spoke, from the dark recesses of the woods we heard far away the jabbering cry of the ape-men. The Indians once more set up a feeble wail of fear.

      “We must move, and move quick!” said Lord John. “You help Summerlee, young fellah. These Indians will carry stores. Now, then, come along before they can see us.”

      In less than half-an-hour we had reached our brushwood retreat and concealed ourselves. All day we heard the excited calling of the ape-men in the direction of our old camp, but none of them came our way, and the tired fugitives, red and white, had a long, deep sleep. I was dozing myself in the evening when someone plucked my sleeve, and I found Challenger kneeling beside me.

      “You keep a diary of these events, and you expect eventually to publish it, Mr. Malone,” said he, with solemnity.

      “I am only here as a Press reporter,” I answered.

      “Exactly. You may have heard some rather fatuous remarks of Lord John Roxton’s which seemed to imply that there was some — some resemblance ——”

      “Yes, I heard them.”

      “I need not say that any publicity given to such an idea — any levity in your narrative of what occurred — would be exceedingly offensive to me.”

      “I will keep well within the truth.”

      “Lord John’s observations are frequently exceedingly fanciful, and he is capable of attributing the most absurd reasons to the respect which is always shown by the most undeveloped races to dignity and character. You follow my meaning?”

      “Entirely.”

      “I leave the matter to your discretion.” Then, after a long pause, he added: “The king of the ape-men was really a creature of great distinction — a most remarkably handsome and intelligent personality. Did it not strike you?”

      “A most remarkable creature,” said I.

      And the Professor, much eased in his mind, settled down to his slumber once more.

      Chapter XIV.

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