Raal gave a war cry that summoned Kulki and his Gorols to clamber down from the rocks and take part in the battle.
From the ledges of the cliff came the shrill reply of Kulki's dark-skinned fighters, and instantly the Arabs were engaged in a life-and-death struggle with new forces.
The Gorols plunged into the fray, carrying their lances, and whenever the burnous of an Arab showed pale in the darkness, a Gorol plunged his spearhead with telling effect.
"Go it, Gorols!" shouted Dan.
"Give 'em the axe!" Dick cried. "After them, boys! They're giving way."
The tide of battle had turned against the raiders. The Arabs on the fringe of the fray turned their horses toward the desert and galloped away. The Bedouins who were guarding the prisoners mounted them on the camels and fled in a body. Abdul and Suli swore by Allah and his prophet that they would return and take vengeance on the tribe, but they saw that the battle was lost.
Many of their men had been slain or badly wounded, and their horses were running wild in the melee; there was no chance to organize their force, for wherever they turned were the hatchets of the Taharans and the spears of the Gorols.
"Give it to 'em!" shouted Dick. "We've got 'em on the run."
"Back to home-sweet-home!" laughed Dan. "They want you back in dear old Araby."
Abdul shouted the signal to retreat. Those Arabs who could escape did so without a second command and the battle was over.