CHAPTER XX.
BY A HAIR’S BREADTH.
A nervous shiver passed through Guy as he recognized the repulsive face of his old enemy, and instinctively he pulled his burnouse closer around his head. Oko Sam darted a curious glance at the two motionless figures on the camels and then advanced to meet the head man, who broke off the conference and greeted his newly arrived chief in a most servile manner.
“Don’t despair,” whispered Guy; “those infernal Abyssinians have become drunk and allowed their captive to slip away just at this critical time, but all may go well yet.”
It took but a short time to make Oko Sam acquainted with the facts of the case. He strode up to the camels, and gazed long and haughtily at the two strangers. Then, apparently satisfied with his scrutiny, he addressed a few words to the weazened Arab, and, turning to his people, jabbered away volubly for two or three minutes. When he ceased, half a dozen men started off in different directions, and the interpreter proceeded to communicate the decision to Guy, who, in spite of his calm exterior, was greatly agitated.
“Oko Sam say yes,” began the Arab. “He friend of Makar Makalo; he no want Makar lose Zaila; he give plenty food for journey; he give six, ten, twenty men go long, so bring back much gift from Makar. You say Makar give much, hey?”
“Yes,” replied Guy, repressing with difficulty his extreme joy, “Makar will give big rewards to Oko Sam.”
The Arab turned aside with a grunt of satisfaction as half a dozen natives came up, bearing leathern sacks of provisions, which were handed up, one at a time, to Guy and Canaris, and slung across the necks of their camels.
This proceeding was barely over, when, to Guy’s amazement and disgust, a band of Gallas, fully armed, and bearing each a supply of food strapped on their backs, advanced into the open space.
This was Oko Sam’s promised escort! Instead of two men there were twenty.
“These good fellows here go long,” said the Arab. “They no have camels; they go on foot one day’s journey, then reach other tribe, where find plenty camel.”
This statement relieved Guy considerably. It would not be so difficult, after all, to get rid of the troublesome escort if they were on foot.
And now came the crisis. At a signal from Oko Sam the guards about the hut flung open the entrance, and in a moment two emaciated, half starved figures were led forth, whom it was actually difficult to recognize as the pompous Sir Arthur Ashby and brave Colonel Carrington.
They still wore their uniforms, but the cloth hung in folds about their shrunken limbs, and their faces were pitifully thin and distressed.
Guy’s heart beat fast with indignation as he gazed on this melancholy sight, and then he purposely half turned his face away, lest the prisoners should recognize him and unconsciously cause the failure of the whole plan.
The people drew back as the little group reached the camels. The two Englishmen were lifted up behind the supposed Portuguese—Sir Arthur with Canaris, the colonel beside Chutney—and so weak and helpless were they that it was necessary to partially strap them in their places.
All was now ready. Guy and Canaris were prepared to start, the prisoners were in their possession, and the armed escort were exchanging farewells with their comrades.
At this supreme moment, when the fullest success seemed assured, a startling diversion occurred.
A big Arab, a new arrival evidently, pushed his way forward, and as his glance fell on the Greek he started with surprise, and exclaimed aloud, “Canaris!”
With wonderful self possession the Greek looked at him in mute ignorance; but the Arab, who had probably but just come from Harar, pressed forward, and, joining Oko Sam a few paces away, began to talk excitedly in a low voice.
“We are lost. Chutney,” whispered Canaris in tones of despair.
At the mention of this name. Guy felt the colonel’s arms clasp his waist in a convulsive thrill.
“Not a sound, Colonel Carrington,” he muttered under his breath, “as you value your freedom.”
The tightened grasp instantly relaxed, and Guy turned his head slightly to obtain a clearer view of Oko Sam.
This action hastened the climax, for his burnous caught on the button of Colonel Carrington’s coat and fell to the ground. A glaring torch passing at the moment completed the catastrophe, and the keen eyed Galla chief uttered a howl of rage and amazement as he recognized his old enemy of the market place at Berbera.
Never did Captain Chutney’s quick wits do him a better service than at that moment.
In one glance he took in the whole situation, the astounded chief and his counselors, the swarthy mass of savages ready for instant action, the armed escort that stood between him and the edge of the encampment.
More speedily than words can tell it, his determination was reached. With a warning cry to Canaris, a hasty injunction to Colonel Carrington to hold fast, he snatched a short dagger from his waist and plunged it an inch or more into the flank of the Greek’s camel, and then into that of his own animal.
The frightened and agonized beasts pranced madly for a second or two and then plunged desperately forward, trampling the amazed guards right and left.
It was over in a moment; a howl from the infuriated chief, a terrific uproar from the vast throng, and then, spurred to greater efforts by the tumult in their ears, the valiant camels thundered out into the desert, heedless of the scattered rifle-fire, the volley of whizzing spears. With tremendous strides they bore their precious burdens toward safety and freedom, while the silence of the African night was rent by the venomous cries of their bloodthirsty pursuers.
For the moment they were safe, but in that long four mile race that lay ahead many perils might be encountered, and it was even within the realm of possibilities that the fleet-footed Gallas would overtake the heavily-burdened camels.
It was no time for conversation or explanation. A fervent “Thank God!” burst from Colonel Carrington’s lips as he realized that he had fallen into the hands of friends, while Sir Arthur, feebly beginning to comprehend what had happened, ejaculated several times, “Bless my soul,” as he clung with might and main to the Greek’s waist.
Faster and faster they sped over the plain, until the tumult behind them was lost in the muffled tramp of the camels’ hoofs. They rode side by side, with arms ready for instant use, but no foe appeared in front or behind, and at last, with a glad cry, Canaris pointed to the distant gleam of the Abyssinian camp.
“We are safe now,” exclaimed Guy. “The Gallas feared to pursue us any further lest their anticipated attack on the Abyssinians should be spoiled.”
“Yes,” replied Canaris, “either that or they have circled round, hoping to cut us off at yonder gap in the mountains where the road breaks through to the coast. And now the rock must be close by. Ha! What does that mean?”
Bang! went a rifle shot directly ahead, and a brief red flash pierced the gloom.
“It is Forbes!” cried Chutney. “He is in danger. Quick, quick, to the rescue.”
A loud shout followed closely on the heels of the report, and recognizing Melton’s voice, Guy, lost to all sense of prudence, cried aloud:
“Don’t give in Forbes; we are coming.”
An answering hail came distinctly back, followed immediately by a second shot.
The agony of suspense was brief. A moment later the rock loomed into view, and the panting camels came to a halt before the entrance to the cavern.
“Oh, you’ve come back safe?” exclaimed Melton coolly, as he came forward with a smoking rifle in his hand. “I’ve had a brush with a party of Abyssinians. They were hunting their camels, I suppose, and took me by surprise. I dropped one of the rascals, and—— Look out! There they are again.”
All dodged to the ground as a shower of spears fell about the rock. With a hollow groan one of the camels dropped heavily over, pierced in the throat by a short spear, and his huge bulk formed a natural barrier before the cavern. Melton’s rifle cracked sharply and a howl of pain attested the accuracy of his aim.
“Into the cavern, all of you,” cried Guy. “The Abyssinians are coming in force; the firing has attracted them to the spot.”
Already a shadowy mass was visible some hundred yards off, and the sound of voices was distinctly heard.
The Greek hastily motioned Sir Arthur and the colonel into the cavern, and hurriedly tossed in the provisions bag by bag.
The enemy were now quite close, and as Canaris stowed away the last bag they came on with a wild rush.
From behind the dead camel Guy and Melton poured in a hot fire that checked their impetuous advance instantly, and before they could rally for another charge, both had bolted into the gloomy hole, and the stone was deftly rolled into place.