In their hands each man of the ambushing party held a reed blowpipe, ten or twelve feet long, and rudely but curiously carved.
Presently the foremost Sâkai stood erect, his elbows spread-eagled and level with his ears, his fect heel to heel, his body leaning slightly forward from the hips. His hands were locked together at the mouthpiece of his blowpipe, the long reed being held firmly by the thumbs and forefingers, which were coiled above it, while the weight rested upon the lower interlaced fingers of both hands. His mouth, nestling closely against the wooden mouth- piece, was puckered and his cheeks drawn in, like those of a man who seeks to spit out a shred of tobacco which the loose end of a cigarette has left between his lips. His keen, wild eyes glared unflinchingly along the length of his blowpipe, little hard wrinkles forming at their corners.
"Pit!" said the blowpipe.
The wad of dry pith, which had been used to ex- clude the air around the head of the dart, fell into the water a dozen yards away, and the dart itself flew forward with incredible speed, straight to the mark at which it was aimed.
A slight shock on his right side, just above the hip apprised Kûlop that something had struck him, and looking down he saw the dart still quivering in his waist. But, as luck would have it, Kûlop carried under his coat a gaudy bag, ornamented with beads, and stuffed with the ingredients of the betel quid, and in this the dart had embedded itself. The merest
