How it all happened neither Mr Burne nor the professor could fully have explained. It must have been the effect of Yussuf’s example, for, as the bullets flew harmlessly over the party’s head, he replied with shot after shot from his revolver, discharging it at the attacking group. As he fired his second shot, Mr Burne’s fowling-piece went off, both barrels almost together, and the professor and Lawrence both fired as the group reached them, and after them, as it passed and went thundering by and down the slope out beyond the entrance to the gorge.
“Load again quickly,” cried the professor; “they may return. There is one poor wretch down.”
His command was obeyed, empty cartridges thrown out and fresh ones inserted; but the trampling of horses’ hoofs was continued, and gradually grew more faint, as the little party descended from their improvised fort. They ran down, for something curious had occurred.
As the band of horsemen charged, their company seemed to divide in two, and the cause appeared to be this:
One of the mounted men was seen to fall from his saddle and hang by the stirrup, when his horse, instead of galloping on, stopped short, and five other horses that were seen to be riderless stopped, after going fifty yards, and cantered back to their companion and huddled round him.
“Why, there’s Ali Baba!” cried Lawrence excitedly, as he ran down and caught his little steed by the bridle.
“And the pack-horses!” cried Mr Burne quite as excitedly, as he followed.
“Enemies, not friends, effendi,” said Yussuf quickly.
For all had seen at once now that they had recovered their lost horses, it being evident that the travellers, by taking the short cut, had got ahead of the marauding band, for such they seemed to be; and they had possibly made the task the easier by halting somewhere on the way to let their horses feed.