The First Installment of a New Serial
That Contains an Unusual Thrill
Coils of Darkness
By SYBLA RAMUS
CHAPTER ONE
A SURPRISE ATTACK
"FOR my sake, Edith darling! Mildred, child!—remember you are a soldier's wife and daughter! You must face this bravely. You'll see we'll send the brown devils flying. There!—I must be off. Give me another kiss—and a smile, too! That's right!—"
Colonel Rathbone drew his wife and daughter into a crushing embrace as he kissed them with that solemn intensity a man feels when he bids his dearest ones a farewell that may be the last.
The Colonel's command were tumbling out of their quarters, some still stupid with sleep, scrambling into their clothes and rushing to saddle their horses in answer to the call to action.
The natives were out and moving swiftly upon them. The alarm had just come in, brought by a naked, bleeding runner. Half killed, he had come through secret paths of the jungle, running the terrible tiger and cobra gauntlet over a short cut which brought him to the British garrison a little in advance of the native horde. He gasped out his tale before falling senseless at the sentry's feet.
The Colonel leaped to action with a cold fear behind his alert, calm grip on the situation. He knew well the fearsome tribe they were going to meet, four time the number of his command. yet his concise orders seemed to ring out almost jovially, inspiring every man with confidence and longing to be in the thick of it.
"We'll teach the bally devils a lesson this time!" he shouted.
Colonel Rathbone had snatched but an instant to take leave of his wife and daughter. Just aroused from sleep, pale and trembling, they clung desperately to him for a moment. He could not deceive them, however brave his front. They, too, knew the enemy and they felt the undercurrent of his dread as he tore himself away.
"Harold, my husband!"—"Papa, Papa!" they sobbed, as they ran out on the veranda.
He cleared the short flight of steps at two bounds, mounted his horse, and galloped away across the parade ground to the head of his little column of men. Scarcely waiting his word of command, they spurred after him to the road, white in the Indian moonlight, and swept out of sight like a storm cloud, the thundering hoofs sounding long after the shadowy forms had vanished.
