"We're in luck, too," whispered the cowboy. "They're right ahead of us, all three of them. Listen, and you can hear them talking."
Matt raised his head and listened intently. A faint sound of voices was borne to his ears.
"Let's creep up on them, Joe," he suggested. "They're two against us, you know, and they'll make a pretty big handful, if they're armed."
"We know Ben Ali has a knife, but that is probably all the weapons they've got. If they had guns, then Carl would never have made his getaway."
Redoubling their caution, the boys crawled forward, screening their advance by keeping bunches of undergrowth in front of them as much as they could.
The voices grew steadily louder, until it became manifest that the brown men were jabbering in Hindustani.
Finally the boys arrived as close as they deemed it best to go, for they had Ben Ali, Aurung Zeeb, and Haidee in plain view.
The three were in a little oak opening on the creek bank. Haidee was sitting on a log, and the other two were standing and talking rapidly.
A moment after the boys were able to see them and note what was going on, the Hindoos stopping their talking. Aurung Zeeb drew off to one side, and Ben Ali stepped in front of the girl.
"Haidee, meetoowah!" he called.