“They must be in a pretty bad state in the cave if the Moors have been here long.”
“And we can’t get at them; we daren’t go too near, for at close quarters the Moors would riddle the planes with their shot and very likely smash the engines. And we certainly can’t let the airship down and go for them. The worst of it is, they know pretty well by this time what the airship really is, and we couldn’t throw them into a panic as we did before.”
“Confound this German!” said Oliphant. “I shouldn’t mind if we could have a really good scrimmage and some fun for our money, but there’s nothing in it.”
“There’s Abdul, you see,” replied Tom. “We’ll have to think it out. They’re in the cave, safe enough, and can evidently hold on there. Let us make for that hill yonder, and think the matter out.”
As the airship crossed the hill of the cave, Tom steering for the loftier hill some five miles to the east, a dozen Moors sprang to their saddles and set off in pursuit. But the ground was very rough; they had to follow a tortuous route; and when, a few minutes later, the airship reached the hill, Tom calculated that he had probably half-an-hour to spare before the horsemen would arrive.
“We’d better ground, and economize fuel,” he said. “’Pon my word, Oliphant, it seems as if this is going to be as tough a job as it was at the kasbah.”
Choosing a fairly open space almost at the top of the hill, Tom brought the machine to earth. Then, while Oliphant watched for signs of the pursuing horsemen, Tom stretched himself on his back, with his hands under his head and his cap tilted over his eyes, and settled down to a good hard think.
“Don’t go to sleep,” said Oliphant.
Tom replied with a grunt.