“Fair enough,” Billy put in. “Now let’s get somewhere.”
As he spoke they were crossing a long bridge made of heavy stones which spanned a deep chasm. At the beginning of their journey across the Taunan country they had encircled many cities and had been forced to avoid many groups of men and women but now they were going through a country that was greatly broken by splits in the earth—all of which were bridged with strong, substantial masonry that exhibited great masonic skill on the part of the pigmies. This section of the country was not as populous as the fertile and alluvial fields of natural vegetation and luscious fruit, and the further they advanced toward what Moawha termed the borderland, the rougher the country became.
In response to Billy’s suggestion they increased their speed, relaxed their vigilance, and were halfway across the structure talking in loud voices when they heard a shout behind them. Curiously they whirled around. The light was so strong that they had little difficulty in making out the forms of a hundred or more pigmies rushing on the bridge behind them.
“Say, Julian,” Billy announced whimsically, “I haven’t any business on this bridge—none whatever.”
He started on a run for the end of the bridge and the others joined him. They did not go far. In front of them bobbed up another small army of pigmies, and from the side of the structure another horde of enemies sprang into life out of the shadows that had obscured them.
“An ambush as sure as life,” Epworth exclaimed.
“And we cannot jump off of the bridge without jumping into a chasm that goes down probably for forty miles,” Joan added. “What shall we do?”
“Fight!” Billy responded, making a dive at the nearest line of pigmies. “Give them all we have.”
Epworth swung his strong arms into action and sent four of the pigmies head over heels. Joan drew her automatic and whacked one in the face; four pigmies caught Moawha, and she screamed. Billy answered the cry for help by knocking the four pigmies down.
It annoyed them to think that up to this time they had eluded the inhabitants and had grown so careless as to permit discovery and an ambush.
With an angry snarl Epworth clenched his teeth and drove straight into the spears, dropped to a stooped position, caught two pigmy soldiers by their legs, whirled them around his head, and clubbed them back. Then the pigmies closed in on them like a bed of ants, caught them by their legs, arms, and waists and began to pull them down.