Abdul heard him and vented a hearty curse upon the missing airman.
"He has led us into a trap! May he perish and the dogs devour him!"
"He did not warn us that the savages of this tribe would fight like demons!" put in a wounded Arab, knotting a strip of linen about his bleeding arm.
"If we had known that they could fight like tigers, we would have raided them by night when they slept," growled Abdul. "Now it is too late for a surprise or a parley. We must fight it through."
"And first of all we must have water for ourselves and our horses!" grumbled Suli.
"Yes, by the Prophet! First we shall capture the spring. But not by storm! Ride warily and pick off the dogs one at a time!"
Carefully the troop approached and this time Dick used another strategy. As an Arab rider would approach a rock, a Taharan would break and run back to another shelter. But when the Arab chased him, firing his rifle, a second tribesman still hiding behind the rock would take a shot at the Arab at close range.
So keen and clever were the Taharan archers, that few arrows missed. But the tribesmen were not so fortunate as to go unscathed through the second attack. More than one was dropped by an Arab bullet, some to rise no more.
Dick Oakwood directed the running fight, giving orders to Raal, who shouted them to his men in a voice that rang out like the bellowing of a bull. Though he might be frightened at evil magic and things that he did not understand, Raal was brave as a lion when it came to battle.
Dan Carter had stayed in the rear according to Dick's orders until the thrill of watching the fight got his nerves on edge with excitement. Then, armed with a bow and a quiver of arrows, he ran from one shelter to another until he was among the fighting men. At the last rock where he took refuge, a Taharan archer was already hidden, driving his arrows to the mark every time an Arab rider came within range.