THE WARRIORS HAD HALTED UPON THE PATH WITHIN A FEW PACES OF THE FUGITIVES.
"We are bewildered," said one of them, "for some minutes ago a comrade reached us from the village, telling us that the other white prisoner had escaped, and had flown beyond the river. But how can that be, for we know that the zareba away in the desert is still surrounded, and there can have been no one to help the slave? And yet this man of whom I speak reports that there is evidence that at least a hundred crossed to the village on the farther side of the water, and then went their way again in a southerly direction. The orders are that we at once return, and make ready to pursue them."
"It is strange, indeed," chimed in a second. "As I stood at my post, thinking that nothing would occur to disturb the silence, I heard the report of a gun, and realized that the enemy was at work again. But I, too, cannot understand how there can be men abroad to harm us. Perhaps this is a mistake, and we shall do well to pause ere we draw in our lines, for it may fall out that this is only a ruse, and that the escaping prisoner is even now making his way in this direction."
"Hark!" cried a third at this moment. "I think the sound of a galloping horseman just now fell upon my ears. Stand still, brothers, and be silent while I signal to him. If it is not answered, we shall know that it is this infidel for whom we are waiting; and then——"
"Ah!"
Each one of the group gave vent to a guttural exclamation, which denoted the delight he would feel should his long watch prove successful in the end. Then all waited in silence, while the man who had last spoken did as he had suggested. It was weird to hear that low cooing noise vibrating upon the midnight air, and still more wonderful to note how accurately the cry of the owl was reproduced. Twice in succession was it sent out from the throat of the warrior, and then as they listened, hoping against hope that it would not be repeated from the stranger, the distant splash and clatter of hoofs striking upon the path and upon the springy turf at its side ceased suddenly, and a wailing cry came shrilly in response. Then once more the galloping hoofs could be heard and very soon a horseman dashed up to the party. Not till he was almost upon them, and ran the danger of riding them down, did he attempt to pull in his steed, for the Somali loves a brilliant equestrian, and rather than save pain and distress to the animal he rides, prefers to pull upon its mouth until the bit cuts into the flesh, and the poor beast is dragged upon its quarters.
"The order is reversed," cried the horseman, flinging his reins upon the neck of his mount and springing to the ground. "Our father, the Mullah, has with his great wisdom discovered a ruse, cunningly planned by the enemy. He finds that they have not fled beyond the river, but in this direction. He commands, therefore, that you set a careful watch, and bring the captives to him by dawn. If you are not successful, he himself will come out in the daylight and lead you. Those are his orders."
"And we will see that they are carried out at once," cried one of the group. "Listen, comrades. It is useless for us to wait here expecting these infidels, for they would never dare to come by the path. It is in the bush that we shall find them, and in all probability nearer to the village than we are now. Let us separate from here, therefore, and ride away to right and left."
The remainder of the natives hastily expressed their approval, and as time was of much importance, and they could not afford to indulge in delay, they at once parted with one another, and melted into the darkness as silently as they had come.