"I'm afraid we must fire," said Sir James, in a low hoarse voice which was almost drowned by the fierce yellings of their enemy. "I'll fire first--over their heads. You follow." As Sir James spoke he raised his rifle, and drew trigger, there was a sharp pat from the top of the wall above the heads of the blacks, and the report raised a peal of echoes from the surrounding ruins. So startling were the sounds that the blacks stopped short. "Now!" cried Sir James, and the doctor fired in the direction of the highest pile, which sent back a roar, and the report seemed to have loosened one of the great needles of rock which had stood up for ages on the top of a loose ridge, and now came down, bringing with it quite an avalanche of stones, with such a thunderous crash that the blacks turned and fled, yelling with horror, while Mak and Pig, who were coming from where they had been sleeping in the sunshine, dropped upon their knees, the Pig following this up by creeping among the bushes that were left standing, and hiding his little head, ostrich-like, in the darkest part. "Bravo! Hooray!" cried Mark, snatching a rifle from his cousin as Dean rushed up with a piece over each shoulder. "Give them another, father!" "No, my boy; only a waste of powder. We will save this shot for their next visit, for I suppose we shall have another rush when they have got over their alarm." "Here, you two, come out," cried Mark, trotting up to where Mak and Pig had taken refuge amongst the stones and bushes. "Get up, Mak; you have got nothing to mind. You, Dean, lay hold of Pig's leg." Mak rose from his knees and began to grin, but made a rather poor display of mirth as he tried to explain that he knew the two "baas" did not mean to shoot him, but he thought all the stones were coming down; and then he joined merrily in Mark's laughter as they both looked on at the encounter Dean was having with the pigmy, who was still half buried amongst the bushes. Dean had given a haul at one leg which he grasped just above the ankle, but had to drop it directly, for it saluted him with a tremendous series of kicks. He fared no better when he managed to grasp the other, and then as he was driven back, every advance was greeted with a display of kicks, which enraged him at first, till he awoke to the fact that he was helping to create a perfect exhibition. Then, and then only, he joined in the hearty laugh. This effected that which violence had failed to bring about: the little pair of black legs that were sticking out from beneath the bushes ceased to kick as soon as the attack was given up, were drawn a little farther in, and then by slow degrees Pig turned himself so that he could look out at his assailant, found that the attack came from a friend and that there was nothing to fear, and soon after he was laughing merrily with the rest.