Chick carried his rifle, and his revolver was in his pocket. Jai Singh had his spear--a weapon which, in his capable hands, was equal to any firearm--and he kept it ready in his muscular fingers, ready to hurl it when a foe should appear. The fellow who had sent the arrow was too cunning to allow himself to be seen. When he had drawn his bowstring he was some eighty yards away, and above the party headed by the detective, and he had kept out of sight. Jai Singh and Chick had covered a good half of that distance before the foe could notch another arrow to the string. Just as the two pursuers showed themselves above a ledge of rock, an arrow flashed toward them. It was like a striking snake, and the “whang” it made sounded to Chick as if it were right in his ear. But there was another flash just as the arrow came. It was Jai Singh’s spear. He swept it sideways just in time to prevent the missile burying itself in Chick’s chest. There was a sort of snapping sound, followed by the tinkle of metal on stone. Jai Singh had cut the arrow in two with one stroke, and it was the barbed-iron head falling upon the rock that had caused the tinkling Chick had heard. The barbed arrow point had been so near to Chick that the side of it had grazed his shoulder, tearing the white linen of his coat, but not breaking the skin below. “Go ahead, Jai Singh!” sang out Chick. “We’ve _got_ to get that fellow!” The Hindu and the detective dashed up the rough slope until they came to a narrow, slanting ledge about two hundred feet above the narrow chasm in which the rest of the party were standing. They were jammed against the side, so as to be out of reach of possible arrows or spears. Jai Singh forced his way ahead of Chick and was at once almost on top of his man on a path where there was hardly room to turn around. Just as Jai Singh was about to seize the fugitive, the latter dropped to his knee, holding the point of a spear aimed at the chest of his assailant, while the butt of the weapon rested on the ground. Jai Singh could not stop himself. He had the choice either of hurling himself upon the spear or falling over the precipice. “Wait a moment!” shouted Chick. “I’ll get him!” He had his rifle poised, but he could not shoot while Jai Singh was in the way. There was little time for consideration. The latter had already decided what to do, and, as Chick rushed forward, determined to close with the enemy at any cost, Jai Singh disappeared into the abyss. Chick could not look to see what had become of him. Urged on by his own impetuosity, he was flung upon the man with the spear. How he managed to avoid the point of the weapon he never could tell. But he did it somehow. The sudden disappearance of Jai Singh over the precipice disturbed the Golden Scarab warrior, and his spear dropped almost to his side. He did not hesitate to fight, however.