CHAPTER VII

The Fight in the Desert

URGING their steeds to the utmost, the three fugitives rode with set faces, resolving either to escape or to fight to the end. Recapture would mean far worse than death.

Grasping his pistol tightly in his right hand, and steadying himself with his left, Reeves turned in his saddle and took a swift yet comprehensive view of the pursuing Arabs. There were five of them, all fully clad in white, showing that they were the chief men of the tribe. Each had a gun slung across his shoulder, and by the length of the barrels the Englishman knew, to his satisfaction, that they were smooth-bore flintlocks, and not the modern rifles used by the Arabs on the coast. Gun flints are practically indestructible, and gunpowder can be manufactured by the Arabs under the most rough-and-ready conditions; but cartridges are comparatively scarce. Consequently, for all ordinary purposes--except in inter-tribal fights, when rapid firing is essential to success--the denizens of the desert prefer to husband their supplies of modern ammunition, and prefer to use flint.

"They are gaining slightly, I fear," remarked Reeves. "Still, we have a fighting chance. I wish we could take aim."

On they tore, pursuers and pursued, till at length one of the Arabs took a flying shot. The bullet fell short, knocking up a shower of sand barely forty yards behind the Englishmen. This was a certain sign that the intervening distance was diminishing.

"What's that ahead?" exclaimed Gerald, pointing to a small, black, pillar-like object in the sand a full mile away.

"It's a rock," replied Hugh.

"That's a blessing!" ejaculated Reeves, for his camel was beginning to show signs of having over-exerted himself. "I only hope there are no more of the brutes in ambush," he muttered.

There were two alternatives--either halting and making a stand in the open, or taking the risks that the rock already concealed more of the Arabs, and, if not, enjoying the advantages of fighting with their backs against a wall.

Reeves chose the latter. It was evident that flight was now out of the question, for, in addition to his hierie showing signs of fatigue, the lads' camels were almost at the end of their stride.

At length the fugitives drew up at the place they had selected, to make their desperate defence. It was, on closer acquaintance, a large mass of rock, sheer on three sides, and sloping steeply on the remaining front. The most active climber in the world could not hope, without climbing implements, to scale the perpendicular sides, which were quite twenty feet in height, and worn smooth by the action of sandstorms through countless ages. At the base of the fourth side there was a fairly wide trench, partly filled with drifting sand, a low wall of irregularly-shaped rock forming a breastwork about two feet in height.

"Couldn't be better!" exclaimed Reeves, as he slipped from his camel. "Be sharp; make these brutes lie down. Never mind that; it's over." This last remark was addressed to Gerald, who ducked his head as a bullet flattened itself out upon the rock a good six feet from the ground.

The camels, fortunately tractable and docile, were made to lie in the trench, while, to be perfectly sure that they would not stampede and leave the fugitives in the lurch, Hugh fastened their halters together.

"Now we're fairly comfortable," continued the correspondent, as he placed his reserve of cartridges by his side. "Those fellows won't keep firing long, I fancy. When they make a rush for it, wait till they are the length of a cricket pitch off, then let them have it with some of these stones. Ah! That was a close one!"

A bullet clipped the edge of his _burnous_, while two others knocked chips off the rock behind which the three fugitives were sheltering.

"We can stand plenty of that," continued Reeves. "I only hope they won't wait till the sun gets up, or we'll be baked in this hole."

Suddenly there was a dull thud, like that of a stone striking a sack of corn. One of the camels had incautiously raised its head, and had received a shot in the throat. It gave a strange sort of cry--half-groan, half-shriek--stretched its long neck on the ground, and closed its patient-looking eyes.

"That's awkward," remarked Reeves. "If this goes on, it will end in our having to tramp to the river." He spoke calmly, unwilling to alarm his charges, but the loss of a hierie could not be too highly taken into account.

For quite a quarter of an hour the Arabs maintained a desultory fire, holding their antiquated weapons with the utmost deliberation, and firing from a distance of less than one hundred yards. Reeves particularly noticed that the "missfires" were few and far between, the great breadth of the Arabs' flints emitting such a large spark that the priming rarely failed to take fire.

All this while the defenders lay low within their natural fortress. Reeves was unwilling to fire a shot in reply, lest the Arabs should fear to close, and instead ride off for additional assistance. That would have been fatal for the Englishmen. Stern necessity decreed that it should be a fight to the death for one side.

Presently the Arabs dismounted, and, leaving their camels without any attempt to secure them, worked their way round behind the rock.

Reeves gave a low whistle--a thing he always did when annoyed.

"They'll be able to rush us easier that way," he exclaimed; "but it can't be helped. Got plenty of stones? Good! Now, look out!"

The Arabs, still maintaining a respectful distance, continued firing, their bullets whizzing by the side of the rock, as if they meant to frighten the Kafirs before rushing in upon them. Cautiously Reeves and the two lads crept close to the base of their towering shelter.

"They'll close after the next volley," said the correspondent calmly. "See that fellow with the red belt? You tackle him, Rags. Gerald, you must have a shot at that amiable-looking gentleman with the grey beard. His spear looks particularly annoying. Now, keep cool; imagine you're bowling with your first eleven."

Three of the Arabs had divested themselves of the upper part of their clothing, and had accomplished what is termed in Scripture the girding up of their loins. The others made no preparations for the rush whatever.

Reeves was perfectly correct in his surmise. The Arabs do not take readily to the use of firearms, and the primitive instinct to close with their adversaries is still strong within them.

"Here they come!"

A volley, sounding almost like a single shot, whistled over the defenders' heads, or else the bullets flattened against the rock. Dropping their firearms, the men picked up their spears or swords, and, with a fierce yell, rushed with incredible velocity upon the apparently defenceless unbelievers.

Reeves let them come to within thirty yards of the rock.

"Not yet," he cautioned hurriedly, as the lads bravely stood up to meet their savage foes.

Steadying the muzzle of his pistol in the hollow of his left arm, the correspondent took careful aim full at the heaving chest of the foremost Arab, a mop-haired Baggara, who was brandishing a long, double-handed sword.

The pistol flashed; there was a report like the crack of a whip; but still the Arabs bounded towards the defenders.

Crack! Another shot. An Arab immediately behind the swordsman sprang up in the air and fell, and a second later the Baggara faltered, turned twice round, and dropped, still grasping his gleaming weapon.

Then the lads hurled their missiles. Hugh's stone caught one of the assailants full in the forehead, toppling him over like a second Goliath; but Gerald's aim was faulty, and his stone whizzed handsomely by a tall, lithe spearman.

The next moment the two surviving Arabs, reckless in the heat of the fight, were upon them. Even as one leapt in order to deliver a fierce thrust with his keen, broad-bladed spear, Reeves fired full in his face. The man was killed instantly, but the impetus of his rush made him fall on top of Gerald, who was preparing to throw another stone. Unable to check his speed, the last Arab tripped over the body of his comrade; and before he could recover himself, Reeves shot him also through the head.

Exhausted by their efforts, it was some time before the victors could utter a sound. Now the fight was over, thirst began to assert itself.

"It turned out better than I thought," remarked Reeves, as he recharged his pistol. "It was a pretty close shave at the end. When I have time I must flatten the heads of these bullets. Beyond ten yards they are almost useless for stopping a man."

"We won't be hard up for arms now," said Hugh, "and camels as well."

"Water is what we most require at present," replied the correspondent. "No doubt there are a few skinfuls with the camels, and perhaps some of these beauties have a small supply on them. Let's see!"

A search of the bodies of the two men who had been shot at close range revealed nothing in the shape of water bottles. One man had, however, hampered himself with a small bag of dates, of which the victors took possession.

"You dropped that fellow pretty neatly with that stone, Rags," observed Gerald, as they made their way over to where the first three Arabs had fallen.

"Be careful!" cautioned Reeves, as the two lads approached the motionless body of the Arab whom Hugh had brought down.

Hugh was just on the point of asking why, when there was a general commotion as the Arab staggered to his feet and hurled his spear full at Gerald, who was leading.

Taken completely by surprise, Gerald stood stockstill. He would have been transfixed by the hurtling weapon had not Hugh pulled him violently on one side.

With a snarl the Arab drew his short knife and ran in upon the lads, who promptly took to their heels.

Finding that pursuit was impossible, the half-dazed man directed his attention to Reeves, who unwillingly, though actuated by stern necessity, was compelled to shoot him as he ran.

"That's an old trick," remarked the correspondent. "Many of our men lost their lives in the Sudan through Arabs feigning death. Now, let's look at these two. I am rather curious to see what happened." So saying, he led the way to where the Baggara swordsman and the second Arab were shot.

The Baggara lay on his back. Just below the left shoulder blade was a small puncture, while another was visible barely three inches lower down. Both shots had taken effect, but owing to their high velocity had failed to stop the man instantly. But the strange part was that the second shot, after passing clean through the man's body, and losing some of its rate of speed, had struck the Arab who was behind him in the forehead, causing instant death.

This man was carrying a small goatskin water bottle, but in his fall he had burst it, and the precious liquid was utterly wasted.

"Hard lines!" ejaculated Hugh, rolling his tongue in his parched mouth.

"We must see what the camels have on them," said the correspondent. "Be careful how you approach them; they might run."

"They are used to us," replied Hugh. "We've taken them to be watered many a time;" and uttering the Arab cry of "Lu-lu-lu", the lad made his way towards the spot where the five camels were standing.

"They won't move, you see," he continued, hastening his pace. "Look! two of them have water bottles slung from the saddles."

"Wait till I bring our two beasts out," called Reeves from a distance.

Either it was sheer obstinacy on Hugh's part, or else he failed to hear his elder comrade's warning, for without waiting for the already tractable camels to be brought out to entice the others, he advanced boldly towards the masterless animals.

Suddenly the five camels bolted, and in a cloud of sand were soon lost to sight.

Reeves bit his lip and said nothing. Hugh also was silent, but Gerald gave an exclamation of despair. The same fact was apparent to each of them. They were stranded in the desert, with only two hieries between them, and not a drop of water to drink.