“I didn’t know whether I could hit him at the right time or not,” the youth said, wiping the perspiration from his brow. “But I thought I’d take a chance. It——”
He stopped fearfully as a rifle shot rang out. Another report followed the first, and Tishmak fell from his dromedary.
“Back!” cried Dr. Kirshner. “It’s the Arabs shooting from the tents. Hurry or we’ll all be hit!”
Tishmak was rapidly picked up and placed on his camel, and then the explorers retreated behind a formation of rock near the high wall of stone that was to their right.
“You look after Tishmak,” said Mr. Holton to Dr. Kirshner. “Meanwhile we’ll keep these Arabs away. We certainly aroused their tempers when we put those dogs out.”
A volley of shots came from the Arabs’ tents, and the Americans at once answered with their own rifles. Wherever a shot was heard, Mr. Holton directed his friends to fire at the spot.
Suddenly Mr. Lewis caught a glimpse of a large one-armed Arab who emerged into full view to send a bullet at his white enemies. Without hesitation the naturalist fired, bringing the man down with a thud.
“Look!” cried Bob. “They’re backing up. That fellow you shot must have been the leader.”
“Does seem that way,” agreed Mr. Lewis. “But we must remain on guard. These are treacherous characters.”
Only an occasional shot rang out. Then finally there was silence.