"We've much to be thankful for," said Reeves; "but, at the same time, if only I had something to smoke——"
He was interrupted by Gerald pointing to the right bank of the river. Standing on the rising ground that cut the skyline was an Arab, dressed in white, with a long gun slung across his back. The man was shading his eyes and looking intently at the strange sight of a boat, and the still stranger sight of a boat with a sail.
"By Jove, that's awkward!" muttered Reeves. "Don't take any notice. I hope the fellow's alone."
As he spoke, the Bedouin mounted his hierie, turned, and dropped behind the bank. A few minutes later came the dull report of a musket.
"He's up to mischief—that's to bring up the other cutthroats!" said Reeves. "Sling that bag of flour between the seats, and see to the priming of the muskets. I don't want to use force unless it is absolutely necessary."
The simple preparations for putting the boat in a state of defence were soon completed, Reeves steering well towards the left bank so as to place as great a distance as possible betwixt them and the threatened attack.
"That is as much as I dare do; we're in only five feet of water," he remarked. "I hope that it won't shoal, for if we ran aground going at this rate it might be very serious for us."
Nothing remained but to keep a bright lookout, and in a silence broken only by the swish of the bluff bow as it forced its way through the water the three Englishmen awaited events.
"There's someone's head!" exclaimed Hugh, as a white burnous appeared above the bank. "And another—a regular swarm of them!"
Barely a hundred and fifty yards away a dozen Arabs sprang up, waving their long-barrelled muskets and shouting to the strangers to stop.