"Ha! ha!" said the dromedary, and Bouchardy stepped up to it, and opening its mouth, produced the bullet.
"Ha! ha!" said the dromedary. "Ha! ha!" said the donkey of the Sheik's favorite wife. "Ha! ha!" said the horse of the vizier.
"Dogs, scoundrels, cowards!" sneered the dromedary.
Bang! But not the bang of the revolver, and the flint-lock of the vizier was smoking, and the dromedary had fallen, and its life blood was pouring out on the sand. Bang! bang! went other flint-locks. Bullets whizzed by Bouchardy'a ears, and he did not take them out of his mouth.
"Hold!" came a voice from the mouth of the dying camel. "The curse of Allah is on the tribe. He has loosed the Singing Sands from their place, and they are sweeping over the desert to overwhelm you. Listen!"
Guns that had been raised to the position of aim were lowered, half-drawn swords dropped back into their scabbards, and all listened as a low hum was heard in the distance, and rapidly began to grow louder and nearer.
"I see it," cried Ducardanoy. "Fly! fly!"
The Arabs rushed wildly to their steeds. Bouchardy and Ducardanoy sprang upon Sunlight and Moonlight and spurred away to the north, and the Arabs rushed away to the west, and the hum of the approaching Singing Sands, if it was still sounding, was drowned in the confusion. It was not until they had ridden half an hour that Bouchardy and Ducardanoy saw the Arabs pause in their flight and finally turn northward.
"They have begun to suspect that we outwitted them, and are after us," said Ducardanoy.
"Let them come," said Bouchardy. "There is not a horse in Africa that can catch us."