Clearly the foremost of the assailants were visible in the slanting rays of the setting sun. Behind them followed a cloud of sand, thrown up by the horses' hoofs, through which could be discerned the indistinct forms of a howling mob of fanatical warriors armed with cold steel. In the forefront rode a tall bearded fellow with green jibbah and turban. With his right hand he brandished a long, straight two-edged sword, while in his left he bore a green banner with a scarlet crescent.
"They are not fighting under Turkish colours," remarked Captain M'Bride to Dacres, who stood by his side. "A sort of Holy War banner, I take it."
Evidently Afir-al-Bahr was of the same opinion, and, finding that he had not to fight against a force under the Turkish Crescent, he picked up a huge axe that had come ashore in one of the ship's boats.
"What's that fellow doing?" enquired the skipper hurriedly.
Dacres, whose service in Egypt had made him fairly proficient with the language of the Eastern Mediterranean States, spoke a few words to the Turkish airman.
"I think it's all right, Captain M'Bride," explained Dacres. "The man has no intention of breaking his parole. He knows quite well that if he should fall alive into the hands of the Senussi their treatment would be much worse than ours. He told me that some time ago a party of these meek and mild gentlemen mutinied, and murdered their Ottoman officers."
"Then let him carry on," decided the skipper. He gave a quick glance in the direction of the oncoming foe. The foremost were now within two hundred yards.
"Volley firing by sections—ready!"
A well-timed volley burst from the British trench. The high-velocity bullets, fired at point-blank range, wrought havoc in the crowded ranks of the Senussi. Saddles were emptied by the dozen, and before the stricken riders had time to fall to the ground the second section poured in a murderous fire.
Yet undaunted the Senussi pressed on, the standard-bearer, apparently unhurt, still brandishing his gleaming weapon. Then, slowly yet surely, he began to lean forward until he lay across the horse's neck. The banner dropped from his nerveless grasp just as a bullet, striking the animal on its white blaze, brought man and steed to the ground.