Jubal was rushing upon me now with the only
remaining weapon that he carried--a murderous-looking knife. He was
too close for a careful bowshot, but I let drive at him as he came,
without taking aim. My arrow pierced the fleshy part of his thigh,
inflicting a painful but not disabling wound. And then he was upon me.
My agility saved me for the instant. I ducked beneath his raised arm,
and when he wheeled to come at me again he found a sword's point in his
face. And a moment later he felt an inch or two of it in the muscles
of his knife arm, so that thereafter he went more warily.
It was a duel of strategy now--the great, hairy man maneuvering to get
inside my guard where he could bring those giant thews to play, while
my wits were directed to the task of keeping him at arm's length.
Thrice he rushed me, and thrice I caught his knife blow upon my shield.
Each time my sword found his body--once penetrating to his lung. He
was covered with blood by this time, and the internal hemorrhage
induced paroxysms of coughing that brought the red stream through the
hideous mouth and nose, covering his face and breast with bloody froth.
He was a most unlovely spectacle, but he was far from dead.
As the duel continued I began to gain confidence, for, to be perfectly
candid, I had not expected to survive the first rush of that monstrous
engine of ungoverned rage and hatred. And I think that Jubal, from
utter contempt of me, began to change to a feeling of respect, and then
in his primitive mind there evidently loomed the thought that perhaps
at last he had met his master, and was facing his end.
At any rate it is only upon this hypothesis that I can account for his
next act, which was in the nature of a last resort--a sort of forlorn
hope, which could only have been born of the belief that if he did not
kill me quickly I should kill him. It happened on the occasion of his
fourth charge, when, instead of striking at me with his knife, he
dropped that weapon, and seizing my sword blade in both his hands
wrenched the weapon from my grasp as easily as from a babe.
Flinging it far to one side he stood motionless for just an instant
glaring into my face with such a horrid leer of malignant triumph as to
almost unnerve me--then
It was the commander of a Chinese man-of-war who received a copy of the edict of 1972 from the hand of my illustrious ancestor, Admiral Turck, on one hundred seventy-five, two hundred and six years ago, and from the yellowed pages of the admiral's diary I learned that the fate of the Philippines was even then presaged by these Chinese naval officers.Page 12
The sea shimmered in the sunlight.Page 20
Two hundred years of peace had not sapped the red blood from his courageous line.Page 30
him, and as he struggled to rise, clawing viciously at me, I put a bullet in his spine.Page 37
"He is.Page 41
I did not speak at first for fear of frightening the little one away.Page 43
Hands were lowered to us, and we were dragged to the surface.Page 44
I strove to tear myself loose from my bonds, but succeeded only in tightening them about my arms.Page 47
"You dare?" she asked.Page 48
I took Victory's hand in mine.Page 50
A quick glance showed me that this was the only door to the small apartment in which we had found sanctuary, and, with a sigh of relief, I leaned for a moment against the panels of the stout barrier that separated us from the ramping demons without.Page 54
I could not account for it.Page 56
Victory, animated by a bravery no less ferocious than that of the dumb beast assailing us, swam straight for me.Page 58
Crawling to my knees, I looked in the direction she indicated, to see a buck standing upon a little knoll some two hundred yards from us.Page 63
to explore the Rhine as far up as the launch would take us.Page 66
He will be forced to halt for fuel and for food, and the launch must follow the windings of the river; we can take short cuts while they are traversing the detour.Page 71
There was great jubilation in the encampment after the arrival of the newcomers, old friendships were renewed and new ones made.Page 72
His name was Abu Belik.Page 75
It was a scene of wondrous and barbaric splendor, for the men and beasts from the south were gaily caparisoned in rich colors, in marked contrast to the gray uniformed forces of the frontier, with which I had been familiar.Page 80
Take her to my apartments," and he motioned to an officer at his side.