That night they deemed it advisable to light no fire. Seated amid the rocks on the crest-line of the hills, where the wind moaned and howled from the west, they held a council of war. It was decided that, during the march on the following day, the two guides should act as scouts, the elder moving some distance in advance of the three Europeans, Cortes following in rear.
By the time the sun rose above the mountain-tops, they were well upon their way. At mid-day they halted for a meal, and it was then that Cortes came running to the bivouac.
"Come here!" he cried. "I have seen them."
They followed the man to the crest-line, crawling on hands and knees. Only Peter Klein remained by the fire. Since they had escaped from the crater of the volcano no one had spoken to the man. The guides showed only too plainly that they despised him, and neither Harry nor Braid were disposed to forgive the scoundrel for having stolen their last drop of water.
They came to a place where the valley-side dropped down in an almost perpendicular cliff. Far below was a little grove of trees, around which a stream meandered, its waters glistening in the sunshine. Beyond the grove, on the other side of the valley, following a kind of bridle-path that led to the north, were five men, one of whom was dressed in robes of flowing white.
"That is the sheikh," said Fernando. "He walks by the side of the German."
"And the other three?" asked Braid.
"They are natives from the bush. The sheikh has doubtless enlisted their services during the last three days. The natives dare not refuse him labour. He was all-powerful when he was a slave-trader; fear of him passed from village to village by word of mouth. On an expedition such as this, he is doubly to be dreaded, because he has friends among the Maziris themselves."
"Then," cried Harry, "supposing he tells the tribe to rise against us?"
"There is little fear of that," said Fernando. "He is hated by the chiefs and head-men, who resent the authority he wields over many of the people."