The Egyptian officer was enraged.
“I’ll shoot the first man who deserts!” he shouted.
A number of the soldiers again shouldered arms, but the majority kept them reversed.
Max saw the advantage he had gained.
He caught the bridle of a horse whose rider had fallen in the mêlée.
Vaulting into the saddle, he looked proud and defiant as he sat there, like a veritable centaur.
“Soldiers, you believe in Mahomet! Hark ye! I have fought with the great Mahdi. I have seen the thousands of Fashoda beaten back when he waved his wand. He has no need of sword or scimiter; he fights with his eyes, and when he waves his hand, armies fall back.”
The enthusiasm was great.
Max had won over most of the soldiers, and the others were undecided.
The officer was furious.