“But think of Bob’s feelings all that time, as he sees the end draw nearer with no word of hope from us,” said Frank.
“Maybe,” added Jack “when he is in prison he will be able to rig up his radio set and we can send him a message of comfort, something to tell him we are working to rescue him.”
“Maybe,” said Frank, sadly. “But we wouldn’t know whether he got our message or not. Well, come on. If it’s back to Korakum, we’ll finish putting the radio apparatus in shape.”
Side by side, silent, each immersed in sad thoughts, Jack and Frank led the way on the return, followed by their companions.
CHAPTER XIX.
AT LOW EBB.
Now began a period of waiting, during which the boys saw little of Jepthah. A guard of ten revolutionists was sent back to Korakum to supplement their own force under command of a cheery young man named Horeb who, like Jepthah, had served in the British Sudanese army, and had a good command of English. Thus the two parties had a common medium of expression. From Horeb, who each day sent a messenger to the main body, they received fragmentary accounts of the progress of events in the field.
Things were going well with the revolutionists, they learned. The Janissaries, numbering 5,000, so far had failed to take the field against them, for what reason was not known. In the meantime, Captain Amanassar was rallying the sturdy peasants of the valleys and plateaus and the herders of the mountains to his standard. He had advanced twenty miles into the mountains in three days and already a force of fifteen hundred men had assembled. He lay at the village of Sharpath, on a high plateau, well guarded against surprise, and intended to maintain this position for a week or more while the countrymen continued to come in.
Sharpath, the boys were told, stood in the center of a broad plateau comprising one of the richest agricultural districts of the mountain country and the road approaching it from Athensi, along which the Janissaries would have to move to attack, passed through a deep gorge which already was in possession of the revolutionists.
“All right for them,” muttered Frank. “But the longer they stay there, the nearer draws the day of the Sacrificial Games. I’m worried about Bob, Jack, and I want to do something. Can’t you put your mind on it. I’ve been thinking of ways and means until I feel as if I were growing insane.”
Frank was seated at the table on which the radio sending apparatus had been set up in the little grove off the Great Road where originally they had taken shelter. When surprised by the revolutionists he and Jack had left their work of putting the radio into shape uncompleted. Since their return they had been wandering over the ruins of Korakum for two days without again thinking of the radio, lost in admiration of this ancient city—the oldest, undoubtedly, in the world.