“But for what purpose?” inquired our hero.
“A true devotee must not touch an evil bird; it is contagious, they think, nor a sacred bird either,” continued the Russian; “it is sacrilege. The duty of your friend is to keep the unclean birds away from the sacred pillar in the daytime. At night he feeds the sacred birds with honeyed dates. They know the food is awaiting them and come nightly.”
“He is there alone, then?” asked Dave.
“He lives always on duty on that roof,” replied Adasse. “There, I suppose, he has a shelter of some kind, probably a tent. There is a grating in the roof. Through this his food is probably passed to him. Beyond it and around the pillar are constantly armed guards.”
“You have done a great deal for me,” said Dave gratefully. “I must leave you now.”
“I shall forget all you have told me,” observed the Russian, significantly; “except that it has been pleasant to entertain a friend of my partner. There is nothing I may do for you?”
“There is this,” replied the young aviator—“Mr. Adrianoffski has given me the address of an agent fifty miles west of here. I wish you would explicitly direct me to him.”
After receiving and memorizing his information, Dave proceeded at once to rejoin his friends. The native insisted on going with him as far as the hill. When they parted he handed Dave a basket bag. Then through signs and grimaces he tried to indicate the gratitude he felt towards the restorer of his precious prayer mill.
It must have been after midnight when Dave reached the summit of the hill. He found Hiram seated near the Comet, armed with one of the rifles the machine carried. Elmer lay asleep on the ground.
“All safe and sound, eh?” commended the young airman, in a pleased tone.