“The guides make out that there’s a ridge of rocks somewhere about which would protect us to a certain extent, but they don’t seem very sure of their ground. The ridge might be any distance between ten minutes’ walk and half a day’s journey ahead of us, from all I can discover.”
“We’ll send young Anstruther and two men on in front to reconnoitre a little, while you and I and Kustendjian see what we can get out of these fellows. Why, where is the child gone? Hi, Ismail Bakhsh, where is the chota sahib?”
With a face as ingenuous as that of the youthful Washington when he resisted the historic temptation to mendacity, Ismail Bakhsh replied that he had last seen the little gentleman at the rear of the column, not thinking it necessary to add that it was at a considerable distance to the rear, and that Fitz was riding in the opposite direction to that in which the column was proceeding.
“Well, we can’t wait to fetch him up from the rear,” said Dick, looking back over the long caravan. “I will ride on and do the scouting, Stratford, while you and Kustendjian cross-examine the guides. It would be just as well to pass the word along for the men to step out a little faster, don’t you think?”
Stratford agreed, and the pace of the caravan was a good deal accelerated in a spasmodic kind of way. Dick and his followers returned from their reconnaissance in a little over half an hour, by which time the gloomy hue of the sky was much intensified, and the air had become quite hazy. Stinging particles of grit were driven against the face as the riders moved along, and sudden gusts of wind, coming short and sharp, now from one point of the compass and now from another, were chasing the sand hither and thither in little eddying whirls.
“We have found the place!” cried Dick, as he rode up. “Pass the word to hurry, Ismail Bakhsh; it’s not much further on. And bring up one of the camels with the tents. We must get up some sort of shelter for the ladies.”
The ordinary dignified pace of the caravan was now exchanged for a helter-skelter mode of progression, which was extremely trying to the mind of Dick, when he saw the confusion which was engendered in the ranks by the haste he had recommended. It was more like a disorderly race than peaceful travelling, and the different bodies of servants were inextricably mixed up.
“What a gorgeous chance for the enemy if they saw us now!” he said to himself. “The only thing is that they are probably just as much taken up with the storm as we are.”
No long time elapsed before the friendly ridge of rocks was reached, and the tent erected under its shelter. Sir Dugald was carried inside, Lady Haigh and Georgia and their maids followed, and the canvas was fastened down tightly. Stratford and Dick, remaining outside, did their best to create some sort of order out of the chaos which surged around them as the servants and baggage-animals came pouring up. There was no time to unload the mules and camels, but they were brought as close under the rocks as possible, and the men found shelter among them. When the last straggler had come in, Stratford turned suddenly to Dick.
“Where can Anstruther be?” he said.