Tom had just distinguished the figure of Salathiel, on a mule in the midst of the party, when there came a slight puff of smoke from the centre of the group, followed by a second and a third. Oliphant laughed.
“They’re firing at us,” he exclaimed, “which argues a pretty state of fright.”
“All very much in our favour. Look, there are three more of them off as hard as they can go.”
“But there are still ten or a dozen of them. If they have nerve enough to hold their fire till we come within range they may do us some damage—if their guns are any good.”
“There’s not much doubt about that. They get hold of good rifles somehow. But we’re in for it now. A bullet or two in the machinery would bring us to the ground; we must simply take our chance.”
The airship was now approaching the party at the speed of a fast train. Moment by moment others of the horsemen detached themselves from the group and galloped after their comrades, and Tom gave a cry when he saw that the Jew was among the fugitives. Still several remained.
“It won’t do to allow them to get between us and the kasbah,” said Tom. “We must drive the whole lot of them back towards the coast.”
The airship was now only some three hundred feet above the ground. Suddenly Tom shut off the horizontal propellers and brought the vertical engines into play. The airship swept onward at the same level by virtue of its momentum. The horses of the Moors began to rear and plunge. They had probably heard the whirr of the machinery, for not being long-sighted beasts it was possible that they had not yet seen the vessel above them.
“By George! aren’t they magnificent horsemen!” said Oliphant, as he saw the Moors striving to hold their terrified animals in. One or two puffs, followed immediately by the reports of the rifles, came from the group; but with their horses rearing and plunging beneath them it was not surprising that the Moors missed the airship, though it now offered a considerable mark. It was immediately above them.
“Now, Abdul!” said Tom.