river was now packed with rays, who were ready to die, rather than let a single panther across.

“Get out of our way!” roared the panthers.

“No trespassing on this river!” said the rays.

“Gangway!” called the panthers.

“Keep out!” said the rays.

“If you don’t get out of the way, we will eat every ray, and every son of a ray, and every grandson of a ray, not counting the women and children!” said the panthers.

“Perhaps,” said the rays; “but no panther, nor any son, grandson, daughter, granddaughter, sister, brother, wife, aunt or uncle of a panther will ever get across this ford!

“For one last time, get out of the way!”

“Not never!” said the rays.

And the battle began.

With enormous bounds and jumps and leaps, the panthers plunged into the river. But they landed on an almost solid floor of ray fish. The rays plunged their stingers into the panthers’ feet, and at each prick the panthers would send up the most bloodcurdling roars. Meanwhile the panthers were clawing and kicking at the rays, making frightful splashes in the water and tossing up ray fish by the barrel full. Hundreds and hundreds of rays were caught and torn by the panthers’ claws, and went floating down the Yabebirì, which was soon all tinged with ray blood. But the panthers were getting terribly stung, too; and many of them had to go back to the shore, where they lay roaring and whining, holding their swollen paws up in the air. Though many more of the rays were being trampled on, and scratched and bitten, they held their ground. Sometimes when a ray had been tossed into the air by a panther’s paw, he would return to the fight after he had fallen back into the water.

The combat had now lasted as long as half an hour. By that time the panthers were tired out and had gone back to the shore they came from, where they sat down to rest and to lick the stings on their paws.

Not one of them had been able to cross the ford, however. But the rays were in a terrible plight. Thousands of them had been killed; and those that still remained were about tired to death.

“We cannot stand a second attack like this one,” said the rays. “Hey, shiners! Go up and down the river again, and bring us reenforcements! We must have every single last ray there is in the Yabebirì!”

And again the shiners were off up and down the river, flecking the surface of the water with the wakes they left. The rays now thought they should consult the man again.

“We cannot hold out much longer!” said the rays. And some of them actually wept for the poor man who was going to be eaten by the panthers.

“Never mind, please, my dear little rays!” answered the man. “You have done enough for me! It’s a pity that any more of you should die. Now you had better let the panthers come across.”

“Not never!” cried the rays. “So long as there is a ray left alive, we shall defend the man who defended us and saved our lives from the bombers.”

“My dear friends,” said the man in reply, “I think I am bound to die anyway, I am so badly wounded. But I can promise you that when that Winchester arrives, you will see some exciting things. That much I am sure of!”

“Yes, we know! We know!” said the rays. But they could not continue the conversation: the battle was on again. The panthers had now rested, and were crouching all on the river bank, ready to take off with great leaps and bounds.

“We’ll give you one last chance!” they called to the rays. “Now be reasonable! Get out of our way!”

“Not never!” said the rays, crowding up close along the shore in front of the panthers.

In a flash, the panthers