Page:The further side of silence (IA furthersideofsil00clifiala).pdf/96

 chest. He was now powerless, for the barbed tip could not be withdrawn, and the sharp point of the shorter blade prevented him from running up the spear, and getting to close quarters with his kris, as has frequently been done in the Peninsula by one mortally stricken.

The women screamed shrilly, and Mînah sought to run to her husband's aid, but those around her held her fast in spite of her tears and struggles. The weeders from all parts of the field had assembled, and stood watching the unequal fight, the men standing aloof, murmuring sullenly, but not daring to interfere, the women huddled together in terrified groups, wailing piteously—and above the tumult the coarse laugh of the Chief rang out.

"Verily a fish at the tip of a fish spear! Watch how he writhes and wriggles! Have a care not to kill him until we have had our sport with him!"

But Dâman, who had not uttered a sound, was still fighting gamely. He soon found that it was impossible for him to wrench the barbed spear from his breast, and seeing this, he threw his kris violently in the face of the man who had stabbed him. The snaky blade flew straight as a dart, and the tip ripped open the cheek and eyelid of Dâman's assailant. Blinded by the blood, the latter dropped the end of the spear, and Dâman now strove manfully, in spite of the agony it occasioned him, to wrench the blade free. This was an unexpected turn for affairs to take, and the Chief's laughter stopped abruptly.

"Kill him! Kill him!" he screamed to his men;