Gun_test
Gun_test
[Illustration: THE SECOND GUN TEST]
[Illustration: THE SECOND GUN TEST]
"Assistance you must have," agreed Sir Jehan, and straightway he ordered some of the archers to man the guns. The fellows obeyed quickly, yet in evident anticipation of going to their doom; but after a few shots, finding that they were still unharmed, they warmed to their work, and soon showed great promise.
Still there was a lot to be done. The right amount of powder required to give the best results had to be determined, and sights to each gun fitted according to its peculiarities, some firing with less trajectory than others.
At length the warlike preparations were justified, when shortly after daybreak one morning the outposts on the eastern side of the Croixilian territory rode in with the intelligence that a vast horde of Arabs was approaching.
INSTANTLY the city was in a state of orderly commotion. Men rushed hither and thither, each with a set purpose—the knights to don their armour, the commoners to arm themselves and run to their appointed stations on the walls, while the serfs issued through the gates to gather in the corn, which was now fit for the sickle. The latter, although having barely three hours to perform their task, worked so rapidly that when the advance guard of the Moslems appeared in the valley most of the corn had been gathered in. The rest was set on fire, and the serfs retired behind the walls. The five drawbridges were raised and the ponderous gates shut and securely barred, while behind the battlements the citizen army of Croixilia waited in orderly silence the advance of their hereditary foes.
On came the Moslem vanguard—mounted men, armed with long guns and spears, resplendent in the barbaric finery of the East. Cymbals and drums crashed in defiance, while under the waving green banners of Islam the fanatical warriors shouted death to the silent soldiers on the walls. Some of the Arabs, in pure bravado, galloped up to the edge of the moat and daringly discharged their weapons at their foes, till a well-directed shower of arrows struck down several and left the rest to ride back with loose rein, still shouting defiance at the Christian warriors.
Meanwhile their vanguard dismounted at slightly more than an arrow's flight from the walls, and awaited the rest of the Mohammedan host.
To the two lads the spectacle was fascinating, in spite of the possible peril that might ensue. It seemed as if there was no end to the number of the fierce besiegers. Bedouins mounted on horses or on camels, half-naked Baggaras armed with spears and circular hide shields, levies from the wilds of Kordofan and the hilly deserts of the Ahaggar, and negroes from the unconquered deserts of the Western Sudan—men representing all the tribes and nations of northern Africa had forgathered to crush the little, isolated State over which the hated cross of the Christians still floated proudly in the breeze.
Meanwhile Reeves had not been idle. Although several cannons had been placed on the walls on all sides, their positions carefully screened from outside observation, he had kept ten pieces in reserve, mounted on travelling carriages. These he had brought round to the probable point of attack, but strict orders had been given that no shot was to be fired until the Englishman himself gave the signal by discharging a cannon with his own hands.
True to their traditions to close with the enemy, the Arabs did not wait until their long baggage trains had arrived, but, forming in compact masses, began the attack.
Supported by the fire of nearly two thousand muskets, the spearmen advanced with the greatest intrepidity. Many of them bore roughly-constructed ladders, trunks of palm trees, and bundles of straw, for the purpose of bridging the moat and scaling the lofty walls—to conquer or die.
As the bullets whizzed overhead, or flattened themselves harmlessly against the stonework, the Croixilians lay behind the shelter of their battlements—the archers with their bows strung and their arrows lying close to hand, the crossbowmen with their powerful weapons bent almost to breaking-point, and the knights ready, with sword, axe, or mace, to sweep the invaders from off the parapet. Heaps of stone, bundles of flaming straw, great balks of spike-studded timber, and bowls of melted 'lead and hot pitch were in readiness to be hurled upon the heads of the reckless attackers.
Reeves felt that he could leave the defence of the walls solely to the knights and archers, while he gave orders for the artillery to be trained upon the still unsuspecting supports, who, firing from beyond bowshot, imagined that they could gall the defenders with impunity.
On and on came the storming-party, till the place seemed black with human beings. Still no shaft sped from the battlements. In an unswerving belief in their own power, the Baggaras, thinking that their foes were already demoralized, rushed with loud cries towards the walls. Already they were bridging the moat, and the fire of the covering force was compelled to cease, lest the bullets should do more harm to their friends than to their foes.
Calmly Reeves applied the linstock to his gun, the Croixilian gunners did likewise to theirs, and the roar of defiant voices was drowned by the thunder of the ordnance.
Before the smoke had drifted away, the artillerymen sprang to their pieces with sponge and rammer, as if brought up to it from infancy, loading with bags of grape shot so as to direct their fire upon the stormers.
Reeves gave a hasty glance to see the result of the first volley. The shells, magnificently aimed and timed, had burst well over the dense masses of the main Arab army.
Totally unexpected, the sudden storm of shot wrought havoc upon the astonished foe, and in a disorderly rabble they fled, leaving hundreds of their comrades lying dead or wounded on the field. Nor did they halt until they had placed a good two miles between them and the walls, taking shelter in a deep and wide khor or valley on the eastern side of the plain.
But the fierce Baggaras, although they heard the crash of the artillery, were made of sterner stuff. In spite of volleys of arrows they succeeded in raising their ladders, some perishing miserably by fire in the ditch, while those whose heads appeared above the battlements were struck down by cold steel. Still they persevered, the shouts of "Allah" rising above the din of the combatants, until a second volley of artillery, coming from a dozen well-depressed muzzles, tore lanes through their crowded and disorderly ranks. That was more than the most fanatical Arab could stand, and in a few moments the panic-stricken survivors were fleeing to rejoin their already scattered main body.
"They'll clear out after this," exclaimed Hugh; "they had more than they bargained for."
"I quite agree with the latter part of your words, Rags," said Reeves, who was black from head to foot with burnt powder; "but I don't think they'll leave us in peace so tamely. They've learnt a lesson, and will no doubt profit by it."
The correspondent was right. Before night other large bodies of Arabs appeared, and, keeping at a respectful distance, began to form camps on all sides of the city.
"If they mean to starve us out they will have to wait a long time," said Sir Jehan, as he passed along the walls.
"For how long will the provisions last?" asked the correspondent.
"At least a twelvemonth, I hope, not taking into account the grain we can grow within the city."
"And water?"
"Enough to spare, unless——" Sir Jehan paused, then in a lower tone he continued: "Unless they discover the underground aqueduct from the hills."
Reeves gave a low whistle.
"I hope they won't," he replied bluntly.
"I'd give anything to have my binoculars here," he exclaimed, after Sir Jehan had passed on. "Those fellows are up to some mischief," and he pointed to the Arab encampment.
"What do you think they are up to?" asked Gerald.
"Something I've never known the true Arabs do before. They are actually entrenching themselves I believe."
"Well, what does that mean?"
"That they've someone with them who has been trained in a European army. Usually the Arabs are content to make a zariba of thorns, when they go to the trouble of making defensive works at all; but I would bet my bottom dollar that they are digging like fury over there."
Just before sundown a fierce musketry fire was opened upon the city on all sides, and by the relative positions of the puffs of smoke the correspondent knew that the enemy were firing in extended order. Nearer and nearer they came, and, although the fire slackened somewhat, it continued throughout the night, so that the defenders had but little chance of rest. Occasionally they would return the compliment with a round from one of the guns; but since the damage done upon the scattered line of riflemen would hardly justify the expenditure of powder, Reeves ordered the other gunners to stand by but not to reply.
"We must watch those rascals," he remarked to his young comrades. "Sir Jehan told me that on the last occasion when they appeared before the walls they succeeded in blowing in the north gate by dumping a bag of powder against it. To make sure that the stuff would go up, one of those cheerful Baggaras calmly stood over it and lit it with a torch. It shows what desperate fellows we have to deal with."
During the assault on the preceding night the Croixilians had not come off unharmed. Seven had fallen by spears flung by the stormers, while nearly twenty had been killed or wounded by dropping shots from the Arab sharpshooters; but up to the present the tide of battle was greatly in favour of the besieged. Nevertheless, Reeves did not feel particularly comfortable. His instinct told him that something was behind the unaccountable entrenching tactics of the enemy. Perhaps, also, they might, in the course of their excavations, come across the buried aqueduct. If that were the case, it would mean either a miserable death from thirst within the walls, or extermination in a desperate sortie from the doomed city.
At sunrise the correspondent ascended the Mound of Pharamond, and, climbing to the top of the highest tower, gazed in the direction of the largest hostile camp.
A confused babel of voices borne on the faint breeze told him that the Moslems were performing their morning devotions. As he waited and watched, a hush seemed to fall upon the invading host. Suddenly a white cloud of smoke burst from a sandhill, and a shell, shrieking well over the walls, exploded in one of the houses adjoining the marketplace.
Reeves ground his teeth. The Arabs were using a modern rifled gun! The situation was indeed serious.
ON returning to the walls the correspondent found that Hugh and Gerald, alarmed by the detonation, had risen hastily from their beds, and were awaiting him at their post. Sir Jehan, with several of his knights, was also present, while the streets were filled with panic-stricken women and children.
"What is amiss, sir?" exclaimed Croixilia's ruler breathlessly.
"The Arabs are paying us back in our own coin, I'm afraid," replied Reeves. "They've brought up a fieldpiece, from goodness only knows where!"
As he spoke there was another dull report, and a second shell whizzed over the walls, bursting in the centre of the marketplace.
"That was considerably lower than the first shot," observed Reeves. "They are trying the range. It will be a bad job hen they begin to pound the walls; a few I I A houses won't matter so much, if the people clear out of them in time. The worst of it is, we are outranged and cannot reply."
"What are they firing with?" asked Hugh.
"I can't say for certain, until one of the shells fails to explode; then I may find a clue. But I should not be surprised if it were a Krupp gun."
"A Krupp!" exclaimed Hugh. "How could they get hold of a gun of that sort?"
"Unfortunately there are at least half a dozen derelict guns in the Sahara. When the Egyptian armies under Hicks Pasha and Baker Pasha in the 'eighties were wiped out, several of these weapons fell into the hands of the Arabs. Many were retaken in our subsequent campaigns, after they had been against us, worked by gun crews composed of captured Gippy artillerymen. No doubt this is one that was not recaptured."
"It's a pity it couldn't be recaptured now," said Gerald, as a third missile missed the parapet by less than a foot, swept an unfortunate archer from the wall, and fell in the middle of a deserted street without exploding.
"It must be, if we are to get out of this mess," replied Reeves resolutely; and, turning to some of the men who were standing by, he told them to fetch the shell, assuring them that if it were carefully handled no danger need be feared.
Presently the men returned, having accomplished their task. Reeves took the cylinder and examined it carefully. "As I thought—a seven-pounder Krupp," he remarked. "I wish we had earthworks instead of this mass of stonework. We shall find ourselves sliding down a mass of rubble before long I'm afraid."
"What is to be done?" asked Sir Jehan anxiously, as another shell, striking one of the flanking towers, knocked a hole in the masonry large enough to drive a camel through. "The walls will not stand the shock of these hell-designed missiles."
"We must endure it," replied Reeves calmly. "Even with a triple charge of powder our guns could not carry as far. We must endure it bravely," he repeated, "until the night."
"And then?"
"I hope to lead a body of men to capture the gun."
Having found the range, the Arab gunners proceeded to pound away at the same spot, their undoubted intention being to make a breach in the walls and gain an entrance into the city by means of the mass of rubble that threatened to bridge the wide moat completely. Seeing this, Reeves suggested to Sir Jehan that the soldiers should be removed from the immediate vicinity of the threatened wall, but at the same time be kept ready to defend the breach should the enemy attempt to carry it by assault.
The overlord of Croixilia, instantly acted upon this idea, and in utter helplessness the defenders heard and saw their vaunted walls being demolished by a persistent and well-directed shell fire.
Meanwhile Reeves set about finding volunteers for his hazardous enterprise, and when he had explained his plans there were plenty of brave men ready to bear their share in the sortie. Both Hugh and Gerald asked to be allowed to accompany him, but Reeves gave a blunt refusal. Finally he selected Garth and four others, all of whom had already proved themselves men of courage and resource during the first assault upon the walls.
The members of the forlorn hope were to ride as close to the Arab encampment as they could without much risk of discovery. Then they were to dismount, one man being left in charge of the horses, and make their way on foot up to the gun. Reeves explained carefully the mechanism of the breech block, in case he should be disabled. If possible, this all-important object was to be stealthily removed; if not, it was to be disabled by means of heavy blows with hammers.
The men were then to make their way back to the city as well as they were able, covered by a fire from the walls.
"I've spoken to Sir Jehan, lads," said Reeves, addressing his two charges. "If anything happens to me, he has promised by a solemn oath to do his best to send you into the protectorate of Nigeria, which, as far as I can make out, lies some seven hundred miles south-west of Croixilia. The river we crossed flows into that territory I feel certain."
"We hope nothing will happen to you," exclaimed both lads.
"So do I. If it does, it can't be helped. That gun must be silenced, or it will be all up with us within the next few days."
At sunset—the time of the Mohammedans' evening prayer—the firing ceased. The damage done was tremendous. Sixteen hours' incessant cannonading had made a breach thirty feet in width in the walls. Yet Reeves felt certain that the Arabs would not attempt an assault during the hours of darkness.
The Englishman had taken leave of his friends, and was about to join his comrades on their desperate errand, when one of the knights, Sir Oliver Fayne, stood in his path.
"I have a request to make, sir," he said. "Five hundred well-armed and mounted men are drawn up without. May we not bear you company and throw ourselves upon the infidels? In the mêlée that accursed gun might be carried off into the city."
Reeves did not reply. Here was a new plan, which promised well.
"What if five hundred men are slain, so the city be saved?" continued Sir Oliver anxiously. "The honour of the State and the welfare of our Creed demand the sacrifice. Deny me not, sir!"
"All right," replied Reeves. "But you've upset all my plans. I must make sure that everyone knows exactly what to do."
"Your plans need not be altered over-much," said the knight. "We shall ride on ahead and charge into the Moslem camp. You will then be free to harness horses to the gun and bring it back."
Hastily conferring with Garth, Reeves soon amended his original plan, and a team of eight powerful horses was requisitioned to accompany the original members of the desperate undertaking.
Shortly after midnight the drawbridge on the western side of the city was slowly and cautiously lowered, the chains having been wrapped in oiled rags to prevent them creaking. Across this Sir Oliver Fayne's five hundred horsemen passed, then at a walking pace made towards the distant camp, where the gleam of innumerable lights showed that many of the Arabs were feasting in their tents.
Without so much as a horse neighing, the Croixilian cavalry approached within two hundred yards of the Moslem camp, while Reeves and his comrades kept a short distance in the rear of the almost invisible mass of horsemen. The night was dark, and only the outlines of the tents served as a guide.
Suddenly a shot rang out from the enemy's lines, quickly followed by several more; but ere the echoes died away the ground shook under the hoofs of the charging cavalry, while the sound of the Arab volleys was drowned by the fierce Shouts of the Croixilian horsemen.
Like a whirlwind they sped over the intervening plain. Cold steel clashed upon gun barrel, and pointed lance met scimitar and ox-hide shield. Slashing and hewing right and left, the dauntless five hundred cut their way right through the centre of the Moslem camp, leaving the Krupp gun unattended save by the dead or sorely-wounded Egyptian gunners, who, under the fierce threats of their Arab masters, had been urged forward to man the formidable weapon.
Quickly Reeves and his men were upon the gun. The limber was found barely twenty yards to the rear, and the horses were harnessed to it and brought up to the captured fieldpiece. After fumbling a little, the correspondent succeeded in connecting the trail to the gun carriage, and in less than five minutes the little band was on its way back to the city.
No need for silence now. Amid the exultant cries of the garrison, who, armed with torches and lanterns, had flocked to the gate and to the summit of the battlements, the captured trophy rumbled over the drawbridge, and was unlimbered and trained through the still open gateway. To his intense satisfaction, Reeves found that there were at least fifty rounds in the caissons. A shell was inserted in the breech and the block cleared, and the weapon was ready to fire upon its late owners.
But what of the gallant five hundred? Away in the distance the roar of battle still continued, waxing louder every moment. Long and anxiously the watchers on the walls gazed towards the Moslem camp. Darkness now brooded over the town of tents, save for the quick flashes of musketry. The lamps had been extinguished, either by the Arabs as they rushed to defend themselves, or else by the overturning of the tents.
"Here they come! Here they come!" shouted a hundred voices. "Keep open the gates."
Into the glare of the torches rode a Croixilian horseman, leaning over the neck of his foam-flecked steed. Even as a dozen hands gripped at the bridle of the exhausted animal, its rider fell from the saddle, half-dead from the effects of five deep wounds. Then came another, and two more, all grievously hurt.
Nearer and nearer came the sound of conflict, till Croixilian horsemen began to stream in through the gateway. Others, still fighting, followed slowly, being hindered by the press at the gate. Several, gripping at the throats of their foes, tumbled over the drawbridge. At length all those of the devoted five hundred who yet remained alive—barely one hundred and twenty all told—gained the city, with a horde of fierce Moslems at their heels.
It was now too late to close the massive gates. Reeves sprang to the Krupp gun, but ere he could loose its contents into the press the ponderous portcullis was lowered with a run, pinning half a score of fanatical warriors beneath its formidable prongs.
Some thirty or forty Baggaras, armed with spears or double-handed swords, remained within the city. With shouts of "Allah it Allah!" they dashed upon the defenders—to slay or to be slain.
Short and fierce was the conflict inside the gate. Many a hauberk-clad man bit the dust under the almost irresistible sweep of those desert-forged weapons; but numbers prevailed, and ere long not one living Arab remained within the city.
Now the archers were free to pour their volleys of deadly arrows through the bars of the portcullis into the surging throng without. Few of the Arabs had brought their cumbersome flintlocks with them, and even these could not be reloaded and fired in the press. Except for a few spears, thrown with terrific force, the Mohammedan fanatics were unable to reply. Galled from the walls, scourged by the arrows from the gateway, they broke and fled.
A hoarse cheer broke from the Croixilian ranks; but the shout of triumph was suddenly stilled by a voice shouting: "To the breach —the Moslems are upon us!"
LEAVING two hundred men to guard the gateway in case the Baggaras should rally, Reeves hastened to the breach, whilst Hugh and Gerald were told off to see that the guns mounted on the walls were directed against the Arabs who were devoting their energies to this part of the fortifications. Bringing up the Krupp at this stage of the proceedings would be futile. The correspondent realized, in spite of the fact that he had already loaded and trained the piece, that the manipulation of the time fuses of the shells was for the present beyond him; he must rest content in the knowledge that the enemy could no longer gall the city with impunity. There was still danger, however, and every available man was required to defend the ominous gap in the walls.
By the glare of the enormous wood fires, that had been lighted upon the battlements, Reeves could form some idea of what was going on. Already the Arabs, with their customary fanatical zeal, were throwing themselves upon the knights and archers, who, led by Sir Jehan in person, were performing prodigious acts of valour.
Slowly, yet surely, the Croixilians were being driven back. The knights, hampered for want of sword room, were gripped by the ankles by their ferocious foes, who did not hesitate to toss the bodies of their fellow-tribesmen upon the lanceheads of their mail-clad opponents. The archers, unable to loose their shafts for fear of hitting friend as well as foe in the mêlée, could only join in the conflict with their swords and spears. Groans, curses, and cries of pain, triumph, and dismay rose on the night air, mingling with the sharp clash of steel, or the dull swish of swordcut falling upon hide shield or human flesh.
Drawing his pistol, Reeves forced his way between the ranks of the men who fringed the scene of conflict. Ten shots he fired, quickly, yet deliberately. None missed its mark. This temporarily cleared a path for Sir Jehan and his hauberk-clad men, and the tide of battle changed. Fighting with a superb courage, that even the Croixilians could not help admiring, the foremost of the Arabs were forced back till they were stopped by the press of those behind. Then, with a gigantic spring, the Moslems charged again, and the ebb of the fortunes of Croixilia began once more.
Having discharged his automatic weapon, Reeves discreetly slipped out of the throng, retired to a safe distance, and thrust ten more precious cartridges into the magazine.
"What's up with those guns?" he muttered impatiently, for on either side of the breach he could see the walls black with the soldiers of Croixilia. "Hang 'em! Why don't they open fire?"
But he soon saw that there was something to be done without asking questions, and once again he dashed into the press, checking the Arab rush as before.
"This won't do!" he exclaimed. "Twenty of my precious cartridges gone already, and no permanent good done! If the beggars press another attack as determined as this, it will be touch and go with us. Ugh, you brute!" This last to an apparently-wounded Baggara, who, leaping up from the ground flourishing a keen-bladed spear, rushed straight upon the practically unarmed Englishman.
Up went Reeves's pistol; but the son of the desert, once he is enjoying the lust of battle, cares not for a loaded firearm, let alone an empty one. Here was his chance to send an unbeliever on his path to the kingdom of Shaitan, and himself to an assured paradise.
Hurling his useless weapon at the Baggara, and missing his shock-haired head by an inch, Reeves threw himself into the approved boxing attitude. But ere the Arab's blade came within striking distance, a man threw himself bodily upon Reeves on his left or blind side. The Englishman, taken completely by surprise, staggered a good half-dozen paces, and finally, tripping over a dead archer, sat half-dazed upon the ground.
Even as he sat there he saw a great blade flash in the torchlight, and the Baggara, his hide shield and muscular chest shorn through by a single blow, fell lifeless.
"You could be ill spared, my brother," shouted a well-known voice, as Garth stooped and grasped the Englishman by the hand.
"Thanks!" replied Reeves shortly but nevertheless gratefully; and recovering and reloading his pistol he followed his comrade-in-arms once more into the fray.
Suddenly, with a terrific, ear-splitting detonation, two guns upon the wall sent their death-dealing charges of grapeshot into the thickest of the Arab assailants. The result was similar to that of a sharp scythe cutting wheat, and a double line appeared in the compact, howling, surging press. With redoubled shouts of encouragement and triumph the Croixilians swept away those of their foes who were immediately opposed to them, and before the discomfited Arabs on the outer side of the sloping bank of stone rubble could rally, they too were forced back across the choked moat. Now there was room for the archers, and from the walls, the houses behind the breach, and the deadly gap itself flights of arrows sped into the Moslem ranks. Once again the guns, reloaded with desperate haste, added to the carnage. This was more than fanatical courage could stand; the repulse became a disorderly retreat.
Many of the Croixilian knights besought Sir Jehan to let them lead the cavalry in pursuit, but to their entreaties he turned a deaf ear. Enough lives had been lost already, although not thrown away, and he knew the risk of following a fierce and wily foe too far into the open country.
But, though the attack had been beaten off, there was no rest that night for the harried and wearied defenders. Knights, commoners, and serfs all worked with a will, clearing the moat and piling up the dislodged masonry so as to form an efficient breastwork should daylight bring with it another desperate onslaught.
With the dawn the magnitude of the sanguinary conflict became visible. Within and without the breach the ground was covered with corpses, many lying in ghastly heaps. Outside the gate, which the Arabs all but succeeded in carrying, the carnage had been almost as great; while in the direction of the main Arab encampment a long line of dead men and horses showed how stubbornly the gallant five hundred Croixilian horse had fought in the endeavour to regain the city.
Perhaps the strangest view of all was that of the site of the hostile camp. Every tent had vanished, and only the sinister line of trenches and more still and silent bodies marked the former position of the foiled invaders. They had taken the opportunity afforded by the few remaining hours of darkness to strike their tents and beat a retreat eastwards.
It was the same with the other encampments. The Arabs, disheartened by their losses, had once more fallen back from before the walls of the city that for centuries had defied their efforts.
"Whatever have you been up to, Gerald?" asked Reeves, as the two lads, powder-blackened, dog-tired, yet wild with delight, rejoined their comrade. Almost all the hair from young Kirby's face and head had been scorched off: his eyebrows were marked only by a few frizzled hairs, while his pate was as bald as a monk's.
"It's a wonder he wasn't blinded," said Hugh. "One of the guns apparently missed fire, and as he was placing fresh powder in the touchhole the stuff went off."
"It's nothing," replied Gerald. "We both managed to get one home at the same time."
"Lucky for us you did," growled Reeves approvingly; "but you were a precious long time about it."
"Couldn't do it quicker," replied Hugh inconsequently. "We had to push half a dozen of the niggers off the wall—not us alone, of course. Look here!" and the correspondent noticed for the first time that Hugh's right leg was bound round with a strip of linen.
"Oh, it's nothing!" the latter continued cheerfully; "only a slight cut from a knife—at least I think it was."
"And the Arabs were already on the wall?" asked Reeves, in astonishment. "Rather! They were trying to swing the guns round when we came up."
The correspondent said no more. He now realized how near to success the Arabs had been. Had those two guns been turned upon the defenders it would have been "all up". It was owing solely to the initiative displayed by his two youthful comrades that the green banner of the Prophet was not floating over the Mound of Pharamond, and the city in the hands of the Mohammedans.
After a hasty meal and a bath the three Englishmen were ready to accompany Sir Jehan to the site of the Moslem camp. The tents had been struck with great haste, as was made apparent by the articles left lying about in all directions; but everyone's attention was drawn to the silent story told by the wedge-shaped mass of dead bodies representing the gallant Croixilian cavalry and their formidable and far more numerous foes. The line of the fierce charge was clearly defined till it reached almost the centre of the camp, where the tent of the Moslem commander-in-chief had been pitched. Here the bodies of the hauberk-clad knights lay thickest, yet in a very small compass; and right in the forefront, with no less than seven honourable wounds, was the corpse of Sir Oliver Fayne. By the few survivors of the desperate enterprise it was told that the gallant knight had pledged his word to reach the Arab commander's tent or fall in the attempt, and indeed he had all but carried out the first part of his vow.
While Sir Jehan was gazing mournfully yet proudly upon the scene of this achievement, three mounted men, with loose rein and hot spur, came with the news that the retiring host had already placed five leagues betwixt them and the city, and that there were no signs of their rallying.
"That is indeed good news," exclaimed Sir Jehan. "We are safe from assault for some years to come, I hope."
"I shouldn't care to take that for granted," observed Reeves. "Even now their retreat may be a skilfully-planned ruse. Are there any more of our men following them up?"
"It is not necessary," replied Sir Jehan. "They have vanished from our territory for good and all. I ought——"
The ruler of Croixilia's words were interrupted by a crashing volley, delivered at less than a hundred yards' distance. Hugh's horse sank on its knees and flung its rider in the dust, while Reeves felt a bullet plough through his hair.
"Dismount and take cover," he shouted, and even as he was in the act of throwing himself out of the saddle he saw Sir Jehan leaning over the neck of his charger. Ere the correspondent or any of those around him could rush to the knight's assistance, the head of the Croixilians fell to the earth with a thud. Quickly Reeves turned him over. One look was enough. Sir Jehan de Valx was dead. Two shots had struck him, one passing through the temples, the other slightly above the heart.
But there was no time for grief. Springing from the cover of a shallow trench, above which the smoke of the volley still rose idly in the calm air, there came a body of at least thirty Arabs, who, with brandished weapons and loud shouts of fierce joy, bounded swiftly towards the astonished Croixilians and their English comrades.
The surprise was complete.
"To horse!" shouted Reeves, seeing that the assailants had dropped their firearms and were preparing to use cold steel.
Swiftly the Croixilian knights vaulted into their saddles, still undecided how to act. They scorned to flee from the threatened danger, and leave Sir Jehan's body to the insults of their barbarous foes; but, on the other hand, they were outnumbered by at least three to one, while some of their horses had been either killed or maimed by the one and only volley.
Meanwhile Hugh had taken advantage of Gerald's offer, and had perched himself behind his comrade, who was bestriding a tall and powerful hunter; while, with the greatest devotion, two of the Croixilians lifted the body of their late overlord and placed it across the back of one of their chargers.
"Ride as fast as you know how," exclaimed Reeves to the two lads. "That brute will bear you both quite easily. Bring help, and be quick about it, for we shall require it, by Jove!"
Although loath to desert their comrade, the lads obeyed, fully realizing that they could be of more service in bringing aid than in remaining by their threatened friends.
Then the two knights guarding Sir Jehan's body made their way towards the city as fast as they could walk, attended by four more, whose chargers had already been put out of action. Reeves, Garth, and four others, with drawn swords, prepared to hold the horde of Arabs in check.
To a certain extent the Englishman's comrades were at an advantage, being clad in chain armour; but their horses, being totally unprotected, were especially liable to be killed or hamstrung by the knives and spears of the Baggaras. On the other hand, Reeves had his trusty pistol, in addition to a long, straight sword with which he had provided himself.
There was barely sufficient distance to gather speed in, but unhesitatingly, with loose rein, the dauntless six rode straight at their foes. There was something so desperate, so ferocious, in their action that even the fanatical Arabs paused and began to give back.
But it was not the horsemen's intention to launch themselves into the thickest of their attackers. With superb command of cooperation they wheeled when almost within spear's length of the Arabs, then, spurring past their ragged front, cut several down, and put a respectable distance between them and the rear of their antagonists.
Here they slackened their pace and, adopting the role of fugitives, allowed the fleet-footed Baggaras to stream in pursuit, thus serving to increase the distance between the Arabs and the Croixilians who were bearing Sir Jehan's corpse towards the city.
The ruse was successful for a time, until some of the savage warriors, leaving their comrades, began to run after the dismounted knights. Then, circumventing the main body, Reeves and the five Croixilians made very fine swordplay with the detached Arabs till threatened by a hand-to-hand struggle with the bulk of their antagonists.
These tactics continued till it was seen that Hugh and Gerald were safe within the city, and that there was little possibility of Sir Jehan's bodyguard being cut off; then, with a final flanking charge, the gallant six sought to effect their escape.
This they had all but succeeded in achieving when a spear, hurled by a gigantic negro, buried itself in the flanks of Garth's horse. The brute staggered a few yards, then fell, throwing its rider; and before the others could pull in their steeds, twenty ferocious Arabs were upon the unfortunate Croixilian.
Now was Reeves's chance to make good use of his still fully-charged pistol. Urging his powerful horse up to the struggling mob, who in their eagerness to dispatch the infidel were hampering each other, the Englishman fired again and again, the bullets doing great execution in the dense throng of surging and swaying bodies.
Just as he was about to fire the last shot, a spear transfixed his left shoulder. The pistol fell from his nerveless grasp, but with his right hand he wrenched out the keen blade. The pain transformed him into a veritable berserk, and, ably seconded by his remaining comrades, he threw himself into the press, hewing right and left with his blade.
Suddenly his horse reared madly, struck down two Baggaras with its plunging hoofs, then fell backwards, crushing the Englishman between its body and those of two already dead Arabs. A dazzling glare of ruddy light flashed across Reeves's eyes, and he lost consciousness.
When he came to himself he was in a darkened room. He felt as weak as the proverbial rat, his limbs were powerless, while he was unable to utter a sound. For some time he lay wondering if he was alive, till, with an effort, he called out—so feebly that he hardly recognized his own voice.
Presently someone entered bearing a lamp, which he carefully shaded with one hand lest the glare should fall upon the wounded man. Reeves saw that it was Gerald.
"Better?" asked the lad, being absolutely at a loss to say something different.
"Aye," replied the correspondent, with a groan. "Where's Hugh?"
"Sound asleep. He's all right."
"And Garth?"
"Like yourself; cut up a bit, but mending."
"And the others?"
"Only two of them came out of the scrap besides Garth and yourself—both more or less dead."
"What's up with me?" demanded Reeves. "Not crippled for life, I hope?"
"Crippled for life! I should think not," replied Gerald. "I'll tell you, only you must not talk any more, but go to sleep. Doctor's orders, you know. You've a spearthrust through the shoulder, another through your right leg above the knee, a gash across your forehead, caused, I believe, by a kick from your horse, and half a dozen gashes of minor consequence on various parts of your body. That's cheerful; but you are doing well, so the doctor says. Now, obey orders!"
"One more question: how long have I been here?"
"Eight days," replied Gerald. "Now I must inform the doctor that you are awake."
Presently Sir Jehan's own surgeon—a man skilled in the use of herbs and in elementary surgery—entered, looked at his patient, and gave him a sleeping draught. In less than five minutes Reeves was sleeping peacefully.
"He'll do," replied the doctor, in answer to Gerald's anxious enquiries. "He is as full of vitality as a man can possibly be. In a week or so he will be himself again."
It had been a case of touch and go. But for the timely arrival of a strong body of horsemen, the gallant six would have been exterminated. As it was, the rescuers found only two sorely-wounded men, dismounted, fighting desperately back to back in the midst of a horde of Arabs.
Thus ended the greatest attempt of the Moslem power to overrun Croixilia. Both sides had lost heavily, but on the whole, in spite of the death of Sir Jehan, the Christians were the gainers. They had secured immunity from attack for many years to come, while a vast number of firearms—though but old-fashioned firelocks—were found upon the sites of the various sanguinary struggles. With these the Croixilians were able to equip four regiments, having now a knowledge of how the weapons were to be used; and possessing the means of making powder, they were able to hold their own against any enemy similarly equipped.
The loss of Sir Jehan de Valx was felt severely by all classes. He had been upright, a firm yet humane ruler, and far-seeing regarding the welfare of the State. Although his power was absolute, he was always ready to listen carefully to any complaints or suggestions from his subjects and councillors; yet he was not weak-willed, or anxious to attempt to please all parties. His will was law.
On the day following his obsequies his successor was proclaimed—his son, a lad ten years of age. During his minority, which, according to Croixilian custom, would last till he attained the age of sixteen, the government was to be vested in the hands of Sir John Cahars, a man in whom the fault of excessive caution was ever present. Sir John was far from popular, and lacked the iron nerve of Sir Jehan de Valx. But since it was their overlord's choice, the populace had no option but to accept his rule, although the outlook for the next six years was far from promising.
Thanks to the pure, bracing air of the plateau of Croixilia, Reeves made rapid progress towards recovery, and within a fortnight he was able to walk abroad.
All danger from the Arab invaders now being removed, and the vast territory to the south-west being declared free from their pertinacious rule, Reeves began to think it was time to take steps to bid his Croixilian friends farewell, and endeavour to lead his young companions to the coast.
At length the three wanderers appeared at one of Sir John's audiences, and Reeves signified his intention of leaving Croixilia at the end of the week. The acting ruler at first expressed his opinion that it would be impossible for anyone to go out of his territory without being killed by Arabs or by the negro tribes who dwell on the vast, unexplored lands beyond the desert.
"We have already passed through the worst part of our travels," replied Reeves. "By following the river we have a fair chance of achieving our object."
"Is it worth the risk to take these lads, even though they have proved themselves men, into those unknown dangers?" asked Sir John.
"It is worth the risk when home is their goal," replied Reeves. "They have counted the peril and are willing."
"Why not make Croixilia your home? You will have power, possessions, riches——"
"With thanks for your offer, we must decline," said the correspondent, and his companions showed their unanimity by signs of assent.
The acting head of Croixilia did not reply at once, but remained apparently lost in thought. At length, with a gesture of dismissal, he bade them Godspeed and farewell.
"I suppose he doesn't expect to see us again," remarked Hugh, as they gained the courtyard.
"I thought it strange," assented Reeves, with a laugh. "But I don't mind, and I don't suppose you do, so we won't trouble Sir John again. I shall be sorry to say farewell to Garth and many of the others."
"I'm afraid Garth won't be fit to see us off," said Gerald. "He has still to keep to his bed."
"It's a marvel he's alive," remarked his elder comrade. "But we must make the best use of our time, for there are plenty of preparations before we set out."
"How do you propose to go?" asked Hugh.
"By water, if we can get hold of some sort of craft. It's infinitely better than by horseback, and camels are not procurable here. Besides, if we encountered marshes and swamps, horses would be completely out of it."
"I hope we will be able to go by boat; it would be fine," replied Hugh enthusiastically.
"It would, unless——"
"Unless what?"
"We encountered rapids and waterfalls. You see, we are at a great height above the sea level, and it will be rather extraordinary if the river runs at an even rate throughout the whole of its course without making a dive of a few hundred feet. But we must face that possibility when the time comes."
That same night, as the Englishmen were about to retire, a captain of Sir John's bodyguard handed Reeves a letter. Opening it, the recipient read, to his great astonishment and indignation, that Sir John Cahars had given the greatest attention to his request, but, on the grounds that their presence was necessary for the defence of the State, and also that he had too great a regard for the three strangers, he was compelled to order them to remain within the city of Charleton.
"Well, I'm hanged!" exclaimed Reeves; then turning to the captain, Raoul Gare, he asked whether he was aware of the nature of the contents of the communication.
"Assuredly, sir," replied the officer, "since I have been commanded to obtain your paroles not to go beyond one league of the city gates."
"We give no parole," replied Reeves stiffly. "Tell your master that."
"Then I regret, sir, that my orders are to keep you within the limits of the Mound of Pharamond," replied Gare. "I am sorry, but 'tis my duty," and with a salute he withdrew.
"Now, what's to be done?" asked Gerald. "We are prisoners to all intents and purposes."
"There are more ways than one of killing a cat," replied Reeves, tearing the letter into little bits and throwing them into the wide, open hearth. "We must take French leave, that's all. To-morrow I'll see Sir John and have it out with him."
But Sir John would not see the man his word to whom he had broken. He merely replied that the strangers must remain within the limits he had named until they gave the required promise. Reeves said something under his breath, and went to call upon Garth, whose quarters were in the same building.
The wounded Croixilian was visibly annoyed when he heard of the action taken by the acting ruler of the State.
"Sorry I am to have to bid you farewell," he exclaimed, "but 'tis for your wellbeing. Set by a store of such things as you can easily carry. Meanwhile I will speak with Captain Raoul Gare, whom I know intimately, and we will see what is to be done. Bring your two young comrades to see me before you make the attempt; and remember, if you get clear of the city, take heed of the plain of quicksands. Go rather by the wild country to the south. 'Twill take longer, but the time will be well spent."
At length Reeves took his leave, promising to come again with his young charges. He did not think it necessary to tell Garth that he knew the secret path over the treacherous plain. But one thing was evident, Garth was a true comrade, and would do his uttermost to assist them in their attempt to leave the city.
The next morning Raoul Gare looked in on his rounds.
"Holà, comrades!" he exclaimed. "Want of exercise will stiffen your joints. There is nothing like skipping when your walks are limited."
Reeves deemed this a strange remark, till a thought suddenly struck him.
"Aye," he replied, "'tis a good idea. A small piece of rope will not come amiss."
That evening a soldier entered the Englishmen's quarters with a box under his arm, saying it was a present from Captain Gare. Directly the man had gone, Reeves prised the box open. Inside was a coil of three-inch rope sufficient to reach thrice the height of the battlements.
"That's half the battle!" he exclaimed, after he had explained to the lads the real reason for the captain's skipping rope. "They are fine fellows, these Croixilians. It's a pity to have to sneak off, but that brute, Sir John, has spoiled everything."
True to his word, Reeves took the lads to bid Garth farewell. It was a sorrowful party, for each man realized that each had risked his life in order to save the others', and they had been comrades in the field of battle in more than one fiercely-contested fight.
"The guard at the great gorge will not hinder you," said Garth at parting. "Much as I wish to do my duty to my country, there are times and places when tyrannical orders may be laxly carried out. When you leave the pass behind you, keep to the north, and ware the quicksands. Horses will be awaiting you. Show this ring to the men with them, and all will be well."
The same night Reeves, bearing one end of the coil of rope, scaled the chimney; three muskets, ammunition, and food were sent up after him, and soon Hugh and Gerald rejoined him on the flat roof. Beneath them, on the battlements, they could see the outlines of the sentinels, but the men's backs were resolutely turned towards them. A double length of rope was dropped, the bight being held by the masonry between two of the apertures in the battlemented wall. Down these lengths the lads swarmed, Reeves followed, and the rope was pulled clear, so as to serve for the purpose of descending the outer wall.
Five minutes later the wanderers had shaken the dust of Charleton from off their feet—for the last time, as they fondly hoped.
Their route lay betwixt the devastated cornfields, where no cover was available; but since the gates of the city were closed at night, no one was likely to be met.
At length they gained the entrance to the formidable gap betwixt the rocks, and here again, although lights shone in the guardhouse, none challenged them. In the gorge the darkness was intense, and the refugees had great difficulty in avoiding the stones that had fallen from above; but, maintaining perfect silence, they kept on their way, emerging from the sombre ravine as day was breaking.
"We may as well take proper precautions in case we are pursued when our flight is discovered," said Reeves, and, bringing his musket to his shoulder, he fired into the gorge they had just left behind them. The echoes of the report were drowned by a roar like thunder, as tons of rock came hurtling from the heights above.
"That will take them some time to clear, I expect," he continued, as he reloaded his clumsy weapon. "We've slammed the front door in our host's face. Now, we won't go south, but we'll try our luck with the quicksands."
The lads wondered why their companion had taken the trouble to carry the heavy coil of rope with him, but their curiosity was set at rest when Reeves proceeded to rope them together, leaving nearly thirty feet of "slack" between each.
This done, he began the perilous passage, walking backwards so as to be sure of keeping the leading marks in line; while Hugh and Gerald, holding the intervening lengths of rope fairly taut, followed in his footsteps.
On and on Reeves went, till after covering nearly a mile he stopped. "Here we turn," he exclaimed. "Now, mind how you go. Follow me very carefully."
"Shall I take the lead?" asked Gerald. "You must be frightfully fagged walking backwards all that way."
"I'd be glad if you would," replied Reeves gratefully. "My muscles are aching fearfully. There are the marks."
Once more the march was resumed, Gerald leading, Reeves in the centre, and Hugh following in the rear, the line of route being now at right angles to their former direction, and pointing almost straight for the little fort by the ferry.
Presently Hugh, who was growing familiar with the dangerous path, stepped a few inches from the centre. Then, with appalling suddenness, his feet slipped from beneath him. In his efforts to recover his balance his musket flew from his grasp and instantly disappeared from view, and only the strain upon the rope prevented him from sharing the fate of the weapon.
Fortunately Reeves preserved his presence of mind, and, instead of instantly running to the aid of his comrade, he kept the rope taut while he walked towards him. When about three feet off he stopped, and called to Gerald to come up as cautiously as he could.
Meanwhile Hugh was slowly sinking, in spite of the support of the rope. The suction of the sands was terrific. It was impossible for him to struggle. He could only keep as still as was possible, in spite of the agonizing torture of body and mind, trusting to the strength of his friends to haul him out of the treacherous snare.
Bracing themselves for the effort, Reeves and Gerald pulled with all their might. Hugh yelled. It was as if his legs were being torn from their sockets; but he remained anchored to the terrible quicksands.
"Mind you don't fall into the sands on the other side, Gerald, if he should come up with a jerk," cautioned Reeves. "Now, together!"
With a united and mighty heave, Hugh was dragged from a horrible yet certain death, while Gerald, in spite of the warning, wellnigh tumbled backwards when his chum, like a huge fish, was squirming upon the hard ground. So great had been the suction that the leather buskins with which Hugh had been supplied during his stay in Croixilia were wrenched from his feet, while from his thighs downwards the skin was inflamed and bruised in places as if he had been scourged.
In a few minutes he was able to walk, although the pain was intense; and, having resumed their relative positions, the three adventurers proceeded to negotiate the remaining portion of that hazardous pathway.
"We've a choice of boats, I see," said Reeves, as they drew up at the little stone quay. Moored to the wall were three craft, one the ferryboat in which they had crossed on their journey to Croixilia, the others being larger.
"There would be room for three horses quite easily," remarked Gerald, pointing to one of the bigger craft.
"There would be," assented Reeves. "It's almost a pity we didn't make sure of the horses; but it cannot be helped. We could not return without considerable risk, and I doubt whether we could lead horses over that pathway. I wonder where the ferrymen are? We are in want of food. Perhaps Garth's ring will help us."
The correspondent stalked over to the fort, and began to hammer at the door. It was unfastened, and flew open at the first blow. But the place was untenanted.
"Come here, lads; we're in luck," shouted Reeves.
On a board were six large rye loaves, six thick rugs, a bag of flour, a jar of salt, a square of canvas that would form either a sail or an awning at will, and a broad-bladed axe. Pinned to the sack was a paper on which was written, in old-fashioned characters and in the quaint dialect of Croixilia: "If so be you have decided to go this way, these are for your welfare".
"They evidently wish to show their good feeling, in spite of the fact that we sneaked out of the city," said Gerald.
"Yes; it's quite certain that without the aid of our unknown friends our difficulties would be tenfold," replied Reeves. "However, we had better get these things aboard without further loss of time."
When the last load was ready to be taken to the boat, Reeves folded the paper and put it in his pocket, while with a piece of charcoal he wrote the words "Many thanks!" upon the board.
"We cannot do more in that respect," he observed. "I might have written on the back of the paper, but we don't know into whose hands it might fall."
Reeves had already decided upon the boat that was to take them downstream. He chose the smaller of the two large ones, this craft being of fairly shallow draught, apparently of more recent construction, and easier to handle. The provisions were stored amidships and two short masts placed in position, the canvas being stretched tightly between them. As there was absolutely no wind, this last was useless as a sail, but as an awning it provided good protection from the already powerful rays of the sun. There were four oars on board—long, heavy ones, weighted at the haft with lead to compensate for the disproportionate distance between the thole pins and the blade.
"Here is another type of mediaevalism," said the correspondent, pointing to the oars. "Almost the same as were used by the galley slaves of old. Oars on an African river seem out of place; paddles would be preferable under ordinary circumstances."
"How would they?" asked Hugh, who was engaged in cooling his aching limbs in the tepid water.
"In weed-encumbered water, such as we are likely to encounter. Here, as you see, the river expands, forming a fairly extensive lake, and vegetation is somewhat scarce; but I should not be at all surprised if we have to literally cut our way through the reeds and water lilies lower downstream."
Casting off the rope that held it to the quay, Reeves pushed the boat clear and dipped an oar, Gerald pulling at a second while Hugh steered. A few strokes sufficed to put a fair distance between the shore and the craft, and her bow was pointed downstream. In less than half an hour the ghaut-like crags at the upper end of the lake were lost to view.
ALL the rest of the day the little crew took turns to row their craft downstream. Although there was no wind, and the heat made their exertions doubly hard, the current aided them considerably, its rate being about two miles per hour when once the river contracted. On the lake there was no appreciable drift, a circumstance that gave Reeves the liveliest satisfaction, since he had good reason to believe that no rapids would be met with for some considerable distance.
Just before sunset they anchored the boat in midstream by means of the long rope, tied fast to a heavy stone. Having made sure that their improvised anchor was not dragging, all hands set to to rig the awning for the night, fixing it so that it made a ridge tent instead of the flat surface that had served to keep off the rays of the sun.
As far as they could see, there were no signs of human inhabitants. The dense subtropical forests on either hand were teeming with animal life, gaudily-coloured birds predominating. The water, too, abounded with fish, which snapped eagerly at a bit of cotton cloth wrapped round a bent wire that Hugh employed as a fishing hook.
In a few minutes a dozen good-sized fish were floundering about on the bottom of the boat; but, fearful lest some of these should be poisonous, Reeves threw them all overboard, with the exception of three resembling dace, only much larger. These were cooked over a fire made upon a large flat stone, which had apparently been used for a similar purpose before, and were pronounced excellent.
Throughout the night, watches were set, this precaution being deemed necessary in spite of the isolated position of their floating camp; but, beyond the constant noise of the animal life in the forests, nothing occurred to disturb the slumbers of those of the crew who were not keeping a long and tedious vigil.
At sunrise all hands had a bathe, since there was no likely danger of being seized by crocodiles. The water was perfectly clear, and, greatly refreshed, the little party attacked their plain but by no means scanty breakfast.
While this was in progress, Reeves suddenly signed to his companions to keep silent, and, seizing his musket, took aim beneath the awning. Standing on the bank, at quite a hundred yards' distance, was a tall, graceful animal somewhat resembling the spring-bok of the Karroos. The creature seemed to have no fear, or, if it had, curiosity got the better of it, for it remained motionless, looking intently at the unusual sight of a boat upon the practically deserted river.
Reeves pressed the trigger, but the gun missfired. The animal inclined its head slightly at the sound, but did not attempt to bound away. The correspondent's second essay was successful, and with a quick, convulsive leap the creature fell dead.
"It seems almost a pity to shoot such a confiding sort of animal," said Gerald, as they prepared to heave up anchor and row ashore for their spoil.
"It does," assented Reeves. "I should not have done so, only that stern necessity demands it. We must have food, and not neglect any opportunity. If this river traverses a desert, we should be short of provisions before we were out of it unless we replenished our scanty larder."
The slaughtered animal was soon cut up, the best portions being taken on board and, with the exception of a piece of hind quarter, which was reserved for dinner, salted down. This done, the awning was adapted for its daily purpose, and the voyage resumed.
For five days the boat passed between the dense forests on either hand, halts being made at each midday for the purpose of allowing the travellers to stretch their legs ashore, in addition to the nightly rests in midstream. But on the sixth day the forests were left behind; then followed a vast extent of plain, in which the vegetation gradually yet regularly decreased until it assumed the appearance of thorns and scrub.
"We are verging on another desert, I'm afraid," said Reeves. "Luckily, the river shows no signs of decreasing in volume, so I think we can rely on its not losing itself in the sand."
About three hours after sunrise a welcome breeze dead astern sprang up, enabling the travellers to set the awning as a sail. The advantages of being able to dispense with the use of oars were quickly appreciated by the crew, who could now sit at ease, the boat being kept on her course by means of an occasional dip with the oar that served as a rudder.
"This is great!" exclaimed Hugh, as the boat, with wind and current, ran past the banks at a good six miles an hour. "A few days like this would mean a lot."
"We've much to be thankful for," said Reeves; "but, at the same time, if only I had something to smoke——"
He was interrupted by Gerald pointing to the right bank of the river. Standing on the rising ground that cut the skyline was an Arab, dressed in white, with a long gun slung across his back. The man was shading his eyes and looking intently at the strange sight of a boat, and the still stranger sight of a boat with a sail.
"By Jove, that's awkward!" muttered Reeves. "Don't take any notice. I hope the fellow's alone."
As he spoke, the Bedouin mounted his hierie, turned, and dropped behind the bank. A few minutes later came the dull report of a musket.
"He's up to mischief—that's to bring up the other cutthroats!" said Reeves. "Sling that bag of flour between the seats, and see to the priming of the muskets. I don't want to use force unless it is absolutely necessary."
The simple preparations for putting the boat in a state of defence were soon completed, Reeves steering well towards the left bank so as to place as great a distance as possible betwixt them and the threatened attack.
"That is as much as I dare do; we're in only five feet of water," he remarked. "I hope that it won't shoal, for if we ran aground going at this rate it might be very serious for us."
Nothing remained but to keep a bright lookout, and in a silence broken only by the swish of the bluff bow as it forced its way through the water the three Englishmen awaited events.
"There's someone's head!" exclaimed Hugh, as a whiteburnousappeared above the bank. "And another—a regular swarm of them!"
Barely a hundred and fifty yards away a dozen Arabs sprang up, waving their long-barrelled muskets and shouting to the strangers to stop.
"Sorry we can't—for your sakes," said Reeves grimly, under his breath; then, to the lads: "Lie down behind the sack; those gentry mean mischief."