Suddenly above the moaning of the wind a blood-curdling yell, issuing simultaneously from a hundred throats, burst upon the ears of the astonished party, and a shower of spears thrown with tremendous force came hurtling through the air. Three men fell, badly wounded, while two more received slight flesh-wounds. Taken completely by surprise the survivors strove to draw their revolvers, but ere their benumbed hands--rendered additionally clumsy by reason of their thick woollen gloves--could perform their task, the savages were upon them. Having all his work cut out to defend himself, Jack Stockton could pay no heed to his companions; it was a case of each man for himself. Contriving to obtain a grip at his revolver Jack fired, but the small-calibred nickel bullet, with its high initial velocity, passed through the shoulder of his nearest opponent so cleanly that the muscular savage was unaware that he was hit. Even at that critical moment Stockton wondered whether the weapon had missed fire, till he remembered that it had "kicked," and quick as lightning the thought flashed through his mind that Captain Brookes's methods of exterminating war could not be favourably applied when opposed to savages. The next instant Jack was grappling with the brawny Patagonian; and though the Englishman was powerfully built and "hard as nails," his strength was like that of a child compared with that of his antagonist. He felt himself being forced backwards till it seemed as if his spine was on the point of snapping, jagged spear-heads were poised ready to be driven home, and ponderous clubs were whirled above his head. Then a merciful unconsciousness came upon him and he remembered no more. Meanwhile Slade, fighting right manfully, had succeeded in flooring three of his antagonists by well-directed blows of his fist; for, in spite of his gloves, the lieutenant's knuckles struck home with sledge-hammer force and precision. For a time it seemed as if he would be able to keep his foes at bay, till a wily savage, stealing up from behind, dealt him a crashing blow with a club. Slade possessed a thick skull in more senses than one, and on this occasion it served its purpose. Under the blow, that would have killed most men, Slade fell senseless in the snow. When Stockton regained consciousness he found himself lying under the shelter of an overhanging rock, with Slade and one of the seamen lying close to him. Were it not for the actual contact all three would have been dead through exposure to the intense cold. At first he could hardly open his eyes, for the blood that had oozed from a gash in his forehead had congealed and had thus prevented a copious loss of the vital fluid.