“You just watch me and see,” Bob replied complacently; “and do whatever I tell you to do.”
“All right. But you’ve got some giant-tabs there, too. What are you going to do with those?”
“You’ll see. Hist! Here come the Arabs. Now, don’t you hesitate to do what I tell you, Fitz.”
“I won’t, Bob.”
The Arabs, some on horses and others on camels, came galloping to the spot, raising a great cloud of sand. They formed in a circle round the two diminutive aëronauts and their balloon; and dismounted and stood silently, sullenly scowling.
At last the sheik of the tribe advanced and said:
“You two are devils. You’ve poisoned the spring where we drink and refresh ourselves and our beasts. You must die; we’re going to kill you.”
Bob replied composedly: “Great sheik, we are magicians, not devils. We worked enchantment upon the spring, but did not poison it. As soon as the sun shines a few hours, the waters of the spring will again be pure and sweet—purer and sweeter than ever before. To convince you that we’re magicians, we’re ready to perform before you. See! I will make a giant of my green comrade.”