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Crosby, Ernest Howard, 1856-1907

"Captain Jinks, Hero"

For some time they went on in silence.
"The path begins to go up-hill here," said Cleary, who now led. "I
don't understand this. We didn't go down-hill at all."
"I think we did for a short distance," answered Sam.
They went on, still ascending.
"There doesn't seem to be any path here," said Cleary. "Do you see it?"
His companions were obliged to admit that they did not.
"We'd better call for help," said Sam, and the three men began to shout
at the top of their voices, but there was no reply. An hour must have
elapsed while they were engaged in calling, and their voices became
husky, but all in vain.
"Hist!" said Cleary at last. "I think I hear some one coming. I heard
the branches move. They have sent out for us, thank fortune! I didn't
like the idea of sleeping out here and making the acquaintance of
snakes and catching fevers."
The words, were hardly out of his mouth when three shadowy figures
sprang out of the bushes and grasped each of the three men from
behind, holding their elbows back so that they could not use their
arms, and in a moment a veritable swarm of long-haired, half-clad
Moritos were upon them, pinioning them and emptying their pockets and
belts. It was quite useless to make any resistance, the attack had been
too sudden and unexpected. Cleary cried out once, but they made him
understand that, if he did it again, they would stab him with one of
their long knives.


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