The fugitives, flung violently to the earth by the shock, were scarcely conscious of what followed. The ground rocked furiously beneath them, creating a violent nausea, which left them sick for hours; immense masses of rock, torn from the face of the cliffs by the frightful force of the explosion, crashed heavily into the gorge, and above all the terrible uproar rang the shrill screaming of the dying animals. But the din ceased at length, and then the three comrades staggered to their feet. Badly shaken they were, but otherwise they had received no hurt, and they gave thanks as only men can who have escaped from the very jaws of death. The vengeance of the high priest of the wolf-men had failed! “I guess we scored that time,” Silas said; “but I’m sorry for the tuskers. It was real cute of the niggers to stampede the brutes.” “Thanks to you and the puff-balls,” put in Seymour, “the trick didn’t work.” Mervyn had not yet recovered from his stupefaction at the marvellous explosive agent which was hidden away in the quaint fungi; but when he did at last find voice he could scarcely find words to express his wonder. “It passes all belief,” he cried, “that such curious growths should have so deadly a power! They are natural bombs!” The scene of the explosion entirely bore out this statement. The gorge was completely blocked by an enormous mass of _debris,_ still quivering flesh and rock splinters being mingled in sickening confusion. Of all the herd of monster quadrupeds not one had escaped annihilation. Turning, the three friends strode forward on their way, Mervyn dilating as they went on the subject of the explosive fungi. “I guess them niggers’ll be considerable riled,” Haverly asserted with a chuckle, breaking in on the scientist’s discourse. “It ’ud be almighty elevating to see the old priest’s face when he knows we’ve pulled through an’ that his trick’s gone bust.” “The fellow possesses terrible power,” Mervyn returned. “He almost succeeded in hypnotising me, though I struggled against him with all the force of my will. I tremble now to think of what might have happened had he effected his purpose.” “Great Scott!” Seymour ejaculated. “Though I only saw him from a distance, it struck me that he had remarkably weird eyes, but I never imagined that the fellow was a hypnotist. We must fight shy of him for the future.” “I guess it’s goin’ to take us all our time,” drawled the Yankee. “You can gamble on it the old man’ll lose no time in gettin’ on our trail again.” “You think he’ll pursue, then?” queried the baronet. “Think!” Haverly repeated. “I guess we can put it stronger than that. It’s a dead cert. the galoot’ll be on our trail again within a couple of hours, an’ then there’ll be a circus.” “The heap of _debris_ may check pursuit for a time,” suggested Mervyn.