The next shot was also successful, bringing down the Arab who had discovered the boat. With that the rest turned and disappeared behind the sandhills.
"I hope that's sent them about their business," said Reeves, as he reloaded the flintlock. "Gerald, you're fairly light; swarm up the mast and say if you can see anything of them."
"They are riding as hard as they can in the same direction as we are taking," announced the lad from his swaying perch.
"All right; come down," replied Reeves. "They are going to ambush us, I fear."
Ten minutes later a rattle of musketry burst from the scrub on the bank, most of the bullets flying high or striking the water. Two, however, ricochetting, buried themselves in the boat's stout timbers. Without showing themselves, the Arabs disappeared, to take up a fresh position lower downstream.
"That's beastly annoying!" remarked Hugh. "If they carry plenty of provisions they may keep this game up for days."
"I thought all the Arabs went eastwards after the repulse at the breach?" said Gerald.
"These may be a few stragglers—I hope they are," rejoined Reeves. "We don't want to drift into a whole tribe of them. To-night I'll try to trick them. Fortunately there's no moon."
The breeze held throughout the day, but, in spite of the rapid and constant speed of the boat, the Bedouins hung on doggedly, firing from cover as quickly as they could. Little damage was done, however, beyond a few holes through the top strakes and splinters from the mast and gunwales.
As night came on, the wind showed signs of dropping.