But how did it die?
Klatch was so curious that he told Max he might kill a cow, if he could do so without a spear.
Max had a repeating gun, an old-fashioned one, but still better than an old musket.
He singled out a cow, raised his gun to his shoulder, the natives watching him. There was a puff of smoke, a flash, a loud report, and the cow dropped dead.
It was a miracle.
“Another!” cried Klatch, and Max, who anticipated some good beefsteaks as his reward, picked off a bull who was looking at him very steadily.
As a reward for these miracles Max was given the first bull, and the other dead animals were divided among the natives.
After two days rest the caravan resumed its journey, Klatch and the entire tribe pleading hard to go with Sherif.
When the caravan rested after the next day’s journey, Sherif found the chief’s daughter sleeping by his tent. She had followed in the distance and under cover of the night reached the pasha’s tent.
Sherif ordered her back, but she refused to return, and he threatened to use force to compel her.