"Have you understood my words? Will you deliver that message?"
"Yes, Effendi, but we men of the desert do not fly while our friends fight."
"I well believe it, Abdur Kad'r. Yet that is my order. Will you obey?"
"I like it not, Effendi."
"There is no other way. What can you suggest that will be better? I remain—that is a settled thing. You gain nothing by not trying to escape. And remember, these Arabs will think twice before they slay a European."
"They will shoot first and think afterwards, Effendi."
"Well, we shall see. Perhaps they have given up the chase. In case they come upon us, lash your camel into a trot, and wait not for me, because I shall ride back, not forward."
The sheikh muttered a comprehensive curse on things in general and the Hadendowa tribe in particular. They stumbled on in silence for nearly two hours. At the end of that time they descended a difficult slope into a deep wady. Fortunately, they had crossed it by daylight early that morning, so its hazards were vivid in memory. In the rock-strewn bed of the vanished river, Abdur Kad'r halted a moment. The light of the stars was strong enough to reveal the horizon, which was visible through the fall of the valley, and the nearer crests of the neighboring watershed were quite distinct—showing black against luminous ultramarine.
"That seaward track I spoke of, Effendi, passes this way to the hills. The Well of Moses lies down there," and the Arab, more by force of habit than because Royson could see him in that gloomy defile, threw out his chin towards the east.
Suddenly, it struck Royson that provided he had guessed aright, the Roman Legion which sacked Saba must have marched over this identical spot, in their effort to reach the Nile. After twenty marches, von Kerber said, they were waylaid by a Nubian clan and slain—every man—from the proud tribune down to the humblest hastatus. Perhaps they were surrounded in some such trap as this valley would provide. And what a fight that was! What deeds of valor, what hewing and stabbing, ere the last centurion fell at the head of the last remnant of a cohort, and the despairing Greek commissary, gazing wild-eyed from some nook of safety, saw the Roman eagle sink for ever!