This last was in answer to some words uttered loudly by Yussuf, who had walked swiftly on, and entered the little depression where they had left the man with the horses.
“Gone, excellency, gone!” he cried excitedly, for the place was empty; the six horses and the man were not visible.
The little party stood gazing wonderingly at each other.
The water was there, gushing with great force from beneath the towering mass of rock; but their supply of food, their means of progression, the man whom they had engaged—where were they?
Yussuf stood with his hands clenched, and his brow contracted, gazing down at the ground.
Mr Preston looked down the valley in the direction by which they had come that morning.
Mr Burne took out his box, partook of a large pinch of snuff, and blew his nose violently.
Lawrence walked to the spring, stooped down, and began drinking, dipping up a little water at a time in the hollow of his hand.
Then there was a few moments’ silence, and the professor spoke.
“It is very vexatious, just when we were so hungry, but it is plain enough. Something has startled the horses. Your Ali Baba, Lawrence, has been biting them, and they have all gone off back, and Hamed has followed to catch them. There, let’s have a draught of spring water and trudge back.”