At the sight of the great Snake he gave a cry of rapture. Tearing it from me, he held it at arm’s length, his face lit with a passionate joy. He kissed it, he raised it to the sky; nay, he was on his knees before it. Once more he was the savage transported in the presence of his fetich. He turned to me with burning eyes. “Down on your knees,” he cried, “and reverence the _Ndhlondhlo_. Down, you impious dog, and seek pardon for your sacrilege.” “I won’t,” I said. “I won’t bow to any heathen idol.” He pointed his pistol at me. “In a second I shoot where your head is now. Down, you fool, or perish.” “You promised me my life,” I said stubbornly, though Heaven knows why I chose to act thus. He dropped the pistol and flung himself on me. I was helpless as a baby in his hands. He forced me to the ground and rolled my face in the sand; then he pulled me to my feet and tossed me backward, till I almost staggered into the pool. I saved myself, and staggered instead into the shallow at the foot of it, close under the ledge of the precipice. That morning, when Machudi’s men were cooking breakfast, I had figured out a route up the cliff. This route was now my hope of escape. Laputa had dropped his pistol, and the collar had plunged him in an ecstasy of worship. Now, if ever, was my time. I must get on the shelf which ran sideways up the cliff, and then scramble for dear life. I pretended to be dazed and terrified. “You promised me my life,” I whimpered. “Your life,” he cried. “Yes, you shall have your life; and before long you will pray for death.” “But I saved the Collar,” I pleaded. “Henriques would have stolen it. I brought it safe here, and now you have got it.” Meantime I was pulling myself up on the shelf, and loosening with one hand a boulder which overhung the pool. “You have been repaid,” he said savagely. “You will not die.” “But my life is no use without liberty,” I said, working at the boulder till it lay loose in its niche. He did not answer, being intent on examining the Collar to see if it had suffered any harm. “I hope it isn’t scratched,” I said. “Henriques trod on it when I hit him.” Laputa peered at the gems like a mother at a child who has had a fall. I saw my chance and took it. With a great heave I pulled the boulder down into the pool. It made a prodigious splash, sending a shower of spray over Laputa and the Collar. In cover of it I raced up the shelf, straining for the shelter of the juniper tree. A shot rang out and struck the rock above me. A second later I had reached the tree and was scrambling up the crack beyond it. Laputa did not fire again. He may have distrusted his shooting, or seen a better way of it. He dashed through the stream and ran up the shelf like a klipspringer after me. I felt rather than saw what was happening, and with my heart in my mouth I gathered my dregs of energy for the last struggle.