“Attendez, monsieur,” called the leader, in French. “It will be useless to resist.”
Now Bob had studied French. In fact, he could manage a conversation both in French and Spanish, although somewhat better in the latter language because of the opportunities he had to learn it at first hand when in South America, as narrated in “The Radio Boys Search for the Inca Treasure.” But hearing French from the lips of this Athensian almost bowled him from his seat in surprise.
Yet Bob was not so certain of the folly of resistance. He believed he had weighed the situation, and he was willing to take a chance. He was sitting his camel sidewise to the approaching party. The off leg he had slowly brought up to the point where a quick fling would free it of the saddle. Pressing his left foot down hard into the awkward stirrup, he suddenly gave a spring upward and outward. At the same time he brought his right leg over the saddle. Forward he launched, as if shot from a catapult. His one hundred and ninety pounds of bone and muscle struck the young Athensian on the shoulder with irresistible force, as Bob hurtled the five-foot gap separating them.
Simultaneously, the big fellow sent his useless rifle crashing into the face of the nearest Athensian rider to the rear and slightly to the right side of the leader. The latter was knocked out of his saddle.
Bob’s arms went out as he struck the body of the leader, and they closed convulsively about him. Thus, as the young Athensian was hurled from his saddle by the force of the blow, Bob was dragged along. He fell on top of his victim, knocking all the fight out of him. The other lay still and inert.
A bit dazed himself, but with his wits still about him, Bob scrambled to his feet as the frightened horse of the Athensian leader dashed wildly into a rider approaching from the left. In a twinkling there was a pretty mix-up of horsemen, shouts and shrill screams. But in his primary object, which was to possess himself of the leader’s rifle, Bob had failed. The weapon had been tossed some distance away in the impact, and as he gazed around him it could not be seen.
Three or four horsemen were in a tangle where the bolting animal had created panic, and evidently were devoting their attention not alone to regaining control of their own mounts but also to securing the runaway. Another man lay writhing on the ground, where he had been knocked by the force of Bob’s rifle flung into his face. The leader lay at Bob’s feet.
But four horsemen still remained clear of entanglements, and they were closing in on Bob on three sides. He would have to act quickly. What was to be done? Retreat to the summit and attempt to regain the saddle of his camel, which over his shoulder he could see standing immovable despite all the commotion? No, too awkward to get back on that clumsy beast, and besides he could not outdistance the pursuers.
Now, if he only had a horse. Quickly as thought, Bob with a tremendous tensing of his leg muscles beneath him, and gathering up his flowing burnoose about his waist, leaped a full five feet in the air, as the nearest of the approaching horsemen came broadside on and reached out to clutch his hair. The meaning of the man’s movement did not escape Bob, even in this crisis. Evidently, he was to be taken prisoner, but he was not to be killed. Otherwise a shot could quite easily have ended the fight.
Bob’s leap disconcerted the other, and Bob’s arms, closing about his waist from the rear, almost pulled him from the saddle. But the Athensian clung desperately, knees gripping tight and one hand clinging to the high horn of the saddle, and thus, as the horse leaped ahead in fright, the Athensian retained his seat while Bob pulled himself up behind him.