For the space of a few seconds both sat upon the mud floor, staring at the wicket and listening attentively. As they did so, the shuffling sound made by a man walking with sandals upon his feet could be heard approaching, and instantly Jim realized that this must be the sentry who was doing duty for himself and for his comrades.
"Lie down just here, and pretend to be asleep," he whispered quickly. "He will do as he did before, and will throw open the door so as to obtain a clear view of the interior. But the light of the moon will only fall just where you are, while the remainder of the hut will be in darkness. I'll get over into the corner, and level my revolver at his head. If he discovers me, I shall shoot, and you had better be ready to join me at once. In the confusion we shall make a bolt for the hiding-place in which I have a follower and two camels. Do you understand? Quick with your answer!"
The white prisoner gave a rapid response in the affirmative, and at once lay down in the attitude of sleep, whilst Jim leaped across the hut into the darkest corner. Then gently drawing a revolver from beneath his waistcloth, he shuffled a few inches to the left until he could get a partial view of the doorway, at which he at once presented his weapon.
Almost immediately the sound of the latch was heard, seeming to break upon the stillness with startling loudness. Then the twisted leather hinges creaked, while the foot of the door scraped over the ground, allowing a flood of moonlight to pour into the room. In the centre of the brilliant patch could be seen the dark shadow of the sentry, slanting across the floor until it fell upon the sleeper, and hung over him. But a moment later the man stepped on one side, and then there was silence once more as he peered in. Sitting there, in his dark corner, Jim could hear the man's heavy breathing, and kept his revolver steadily levelled, knowing that if he were to be discovered it would be during the next few seconds. Breathlessly he waited, not daring to move a finger, but feeling all the while as though the man's eyes were searching every nook and cranny of the hut, and had fixed themselves upon him. Indeed, so firmly was he convinced of this that he began to stretch a little farther to one side till the head of the sentry came into view. And there he remained in his strained position, the muzzle of his weapon covering the intruder, and his finger on the trigger, ready to press it and send the death-dealing bullet home. An age seemed to pass before the Somali warrior ended his scrutiny of the hut, and it was with a feeling of indescribable relief that Jim saw his head withdrawn, and heard the rasping of the wicket again as it closed. As if fascinated, he watched the patch of moonlight diminish, and then sat there with the moisture pouring from his forehead, listening to the sounds outside.
JIM KEPT HIS REVOLVER STEADILY LEVELLED.
"A narrow squeak, I think," said a voice from the farther end. "That beggar seemed to be suspicious, and as I lay there watching him through a half-closed eye, I felt sure that he was about to enter. Had he done so, and you had not fired, I should have been upon his back in a moment, and you could have trusted me to bring him to the ground with a broken neck, for that is a trick of which these Somali people are very fond. Come over and join me, and I will go on with my tale."