Then a sight met his eyes at which words failed him. For a moment, he sat as if paralyzed, unable to move or even to think.
Ten horsemen had filed silently, soundlessly, from behind the shoulder of the sand dunes in his rear. They were already almost upon him. From momentary paralysis, Bob’s mind leaped into lightning-like activity. He saw his escape toward Ali and Jack was cut off on one side, and on the other his retreat toward the oasis.
It would be useless to attempt to flee, for his camel soon would be overtaken by the swifter horses, if he were not shot down in the meantime. For that first swift appraising glance assured him these men were armed with long Arab rifles.
In the same glance, he noted something else which made his heart skip a beat. These men, tanned though they were, were recognizable as white men. And they were dressed exactly as was the wounded Athensian, lying delirious at the oasis, in fact they were Athensians, in short toga-like garments, bare legs and soft leather moccasins.
All these observations and thoughts passed through Bob’s mind in a moment. He had a wild idea of throwing himself from his camel, causing the latter to kneel, and from behind it, as from behind a bulwark, fighting off the attackers. For, that they intended harm to him, Bob felt assured. But even in the moment of leaping from the saddle, he realized the futility of such procedure. His rifle was out of commission.
What should he do? The party was closing in. Bob gave one wild searching glance to the south, where he had left Ali and Jack. They were nowhere in sight. Neither, for that matter, were the ostriches.
Under other circumstances, Bob would have made a fight for his liberty with his bare hands. Those of our readers who have followed his career under other skies know well what a superb wrestler is Bob. And with the additional weight and strength of an added year or two, Bob was now a wrestler and boxer second to none. But even as the thought of grappling with the leader entered his head, he saw by the loosening of rifles in the hands of others that his first movement would bring a swarm of bullets his way.
Or would they shoot? A new idea came to Bob. In this still desert air, the sound of shots would carry far. If his one lone shot of a minute before were to be succeeded by a volley, Ali and Jack would take alarm, and perhaps even back at the oasis the alarm would be given. This party consisted only of ten men. Perhaps, they preferred moving soundlessly rather than run the risk of bringing a party of equal strength upon them. Perhaps, they would not use their rifles at first, should he attack their leader, expecting to see him overcome. Well, if they only withheld their fire until he could grasp the rascal and seize his rifle, Bob wouldn’t care. With a weapon in his hand, he could go down fighting. What a fool he was, anyway, to have left the oasis without his automatic.
One phase of the situation which Bob did not take into account was that, even if Ali and Jack managed to discover his predicament and either came to his rescue themselves or set out to rouse the oasis, the attacking party could escape because of the greater swiftness of their horses as compared to camels.
Instead, as the leader of the attackers approached—a strikingly handsome young man, with a round firm face, hawklike nose and crisping brown hair, Bob set himself for a flying leap from the camel. The leader rode slightly in advance of the others, who mounted the sliding sand hill in a semicircle behind him, toward Bob sitting his camel on the top of the hill. Then an astonishing thing happened.