The distance to the next watering-place was too great to admit of any delay being made; and the journey was resumed, in the hope that the two missing men would be met on the way.
This hope was realised.
All along the route, the old sheik, who rode in advance, kept scanning the horizon, not only ahead, but to the right and left of their course. About ten miles from their night’s halting-place he was seen to swerve suddenly from his course, and advance towards something that had attracted his attention. His followers hastened after him—all except the two women and their children, who lingered a long way behind.
Lying on the ground, their bodies contiguous to each other, were the two Arabs who had gone in pursuit of the runaway.
They were both dead.
One of them had been shot with a musket-ball that had penetrated his skull, entering directly between his temples. The other had been cut down with a scimitar, his body being almost severed in twain.
The youth who had fled the night before, had evidently come up with Golah and his son; and the two men who had pursued him and lost their lives, their animals, muskets, and scimitars.
Golah now had two accomplices, and the three were well mounted and well-armed.
The anger of the Arabs was frightful to behold. They turned towards the two women whom they knew to be Golah’s wives. The latter had thrown themselves on their knees, and were screaming and supplicating for mercy.
Some of the Arabs would have killed them on the instant; but were prevented by the old sheik, who, although himself wild with rage, had still sufficient reason left to tell him that the unfortunate women were not answerable for the acts of their husband. Our adventurers found reason to regret the misfortune that had befallen their new masters; for they could not but regard with alarm the returning power of Golah.