CHAPTER X.

SQUELCHED BY AN OSTRICH.

Unlike Bob, Jack after leaving Ali took cautious observations from time to time to enable him to keep the ostrich herd in sight. He realized the possibility of being deflected from his course in passing behind the sand dunes, but by frequent halts when he would compel his camel to kneel and, retaining the long led rope so as to prevent the animal’s wandering, climb to the top of a sand dune, and lying there, swing his glasses on the distant birds, he managed to make a wide arc about the herd without going astray.

When a half hour had elapsed, he rose into sight as agreed and a moment later saw, through his glasses, Ali making for the ostrich herd. Then he swung his glasses again over the horizon in the direction where Bob was supposed to have taken post. But he was unable to see any sign of his comrade.

A somewhat higher mass of dunes far off the course and more distant caught his eye, and he entertained the fleeting thought that, perhaps, Bob in wandering behind the sand dunes had gotten mixed up among the distant hills. But he had little time for reflection because at that moment he saw Ali start off in pursuit of the ostrich nearest him who, seeing his approach, headed away fleetly into the desert.

Jack’s first impulse was to dash forward and join in the chase himself, but he remembered Ali’s caution and held his position. Ali’s camel was on a tangent to the flight of the ostrich, and Jack could see his companion’s intention was to head off the big bird and chase it toward him. In the meantime, the more distant members of the herd, a dozen great birds, had taken alarm and were galloping away on a course that lay midway between Ali and Jack, whom apparently they had now sighted.

What a picture it all made, thought Jack. For a while, he sat his camel, lost in admiration of the sight. The vast waving floor of the desert, with here and there low clumps of bush; the great birds, black-bodied, beautiful under the flood of golden, dazzling sunlight, fleeing fleetly in twenty-five foot bounds; apart from his fellows the one great ostrich, gradually drawing closer to Jack, with the ungainly camel humping along in the rear and to one side, continually turning the ostrich so he could not gain the open desert behind Jack’s camel.

In the midst of his absorption, Jack started. Was that a shot? He listened. But no repetition came. So faint had been the sound that, perhaps, his ears had deceived him. Certainly, if it were a shot it could come only from Bob, yet Bob was not in sight. And just as certainly as Bob would shoot, if he were lost, he would fire a whole volley. Jack listened with strained attention. Not a sound. He swept the whole northern horizon, in the direction Bob had taken, with his glasses.

What was that on the far sand dunes? On those slightly higher hills? A sudden, quick uptossing movement, and then nothing further. He gazed fixedly at the spot, but without reward.

A sudden shout from Ali recalled Jack to his surroundings. Great Scott, what was that! Yes, Ali’s camel had stumbled and pitched to its knees, and Ali had been thrown forward onto the sand. And the ostrich! What in the world was it doing?

“Lie down, Ali, lie down,” screamed Jack, remembering his father’s warning of what a man must do if attacked by an ostrich.

For the great bird which Ali had been pursuing had turned in wild fury and was dashing headlong for the fallen man, literally skimming the earth, seeming to touch it only at long intervals. Jack knew the ostrich cannot use its wings to fly, and employs them only to aid to pivot and make sharp turnings or to bring its body to a sudden halt. But the great bounds made by the creature gave it the semblance of flight.

Jack’s face went white. Ali’s camel had scrambled to its feet and was heading back across the desert toward the distant oasis. Ali lay still, outspread on his face. Was he knocked out by the fall, or had he adopted the customary attitude of hunters when attacked by an ostrich? Jack could not tell.

One more swoop the ostrich took, and then it folded its great legs beneath it and sat down on Ali’s body. Only the man’s feet and lower legs projected. The big bird’s body covered even his head, and Jack knew he must act quickly or Ali would be smothered.

He was less than a thousand yards distant and well within the range of his Winchester, but so nervous was Jack, his hands shook so much, that he decided to approach closer before venturing a shot.

As he moved up, the ostrich began to hiss. A strange hissing note it was, with the beak not opened and the air from the bird’s lungs swelling its throat and flowing over the vocal organs. Still it continued to maintain its position on Ali.

Now was the time. Jack knew it was up to him to save Ali’s life, and the thought exerted a steadying influence. He lifted his rifle, took careful aim, and pressed the trigger. He had aimed not at the body, for he feared that, unless struck in the heart, the ostrich would not be killed. Then it would writhe convulsively, and its movements would increase Ali’s danger. Instead, he aimed at the small head.

The next moment, he saw the head droop like the head of a flower broken from the stem but still hanging by a shred. Then the great bird fell over on its side, and twitched while its long legs kicked convulsively.

Ali rolled quickly away, turning over and over, instead of first regaining his feet. By the time Jack arrived, Ali was on his feet and composedly shaking sand from his burnoose and straightening his turban. The swarthy face with its gleaming black eyes and black mustache, was filled with gratitude as Jack approached.

“You saved my life,” said Ali. “I’ll not forget.”

They looked at the body of the great bird, which lay still. Jack experienced a revulsion of feeling. Why had they ever come out on this ostrich hunt, anyway? To kill so beautiful a thing seemed a crime. Ali looked up at him and said:

“We may as well take the plumes now.”

“Oh, I don’t want them,” said Jack. “Let’s find Bob.”

Ali smiled slightly. He could understand his companion’s distaste. As for him, inured to hardships, was he to be so shaken up by one that he neglected to pick a small fortune, a tidy sum, in ostrich plumes? Death of his life, no. He strode to the body of the ostrich and began methodically to pull out the barbs of the plumes.

In the meantime, Jack through his glasses scanned the horizon, searching for signs of Bob. Now that the danger to Ali was past, recollection of the fact that no sign of his comrade had yet appeared, flooded back on him. What could have become of Bob? Jack was filled with anxiety. Certainly, no matter whither he had strayed he would have given some sign ere this. Could his camel have thrown him? Did he lie stunned somewhere on the desert? That seemed the most likely possibility.

“Hurry, Ali,” he called, still sweeping his glance around the desert. “We must go and look for Bob.”

Ali completed his task, having picked the best of the plumes, and left the rest to fortune, stirred by the peremptoriness of Jack’s tone. As he walked nearer, Jack suddenly voiced a low exclamation.

“What it is?” Ali asked. “Do you see Mister Bob?”

“I thought I saw a man on horseback over there,” said Jack, pointing toward the northeast, where the ridge of higher sand dunes which earlier had caught his gaze, lying to the north of him, stretched eastward.

“A horseman?” Ali’s tone grew alert. “We have no horses here.”

“Now I can’t see any more,” said Jack. “Look here, what’ll we do? We’ve got to go and look for Bob. He’s strayed, that’s all there is to it.”

Rapidly he outlined to Ali his fears that Bob had strayed from his course and became enmeshed among the higher sand hills, perhaps had been pitched from his camel. Ali, whose glasses had been lost in his fall, scouted around until he recovered them beneath a bush. Then he, too, examined the sand dunes Jack indicated.

“That horse you saw,” Ali said presently. “I don’t like it.”

“What do you mean?” Jack demanded quickly. “Desert robbers?”

“Perhaps,” said Ali. “Although this is off the caravan routes and is not rich ground for robbers. Perhaps, the Athensians.”

“Oh, come now,” scoffed Jack. Nevertheless, he, too, experienced a sudden sense of fear.

“Well,” said Ali, “take me up behind you, and we’ll investigate. Mister Bob’s trail ought to be easy to follow.”

Obediently, Jack caused his camel to kneel and Ali scrambled up behind. Then, with its double load, Jack turned the beast’s head toward the point where the three earlier had separated. The indentations made in the sand by the pads of Bob’s camel were easy to follow, and in his anxiety Jack pushed his own animal ahead at a shuffling run. Ali perched precariously behind him had hard work holding on, but said nothing. He was as anxious as Jack.

In less than the half hour Bob had taken to reach his station, they arrived. Then the sorry story lay before them. To Ali’s desert-trained eyes, it was easy to read.

Both Ali and Jack flung themselves from the camel and went scouting around. Bob’s camel tracks, the hoof marks of horses, a broken piece out of the shield of Bob’s sun helmet, and the mass of zinc for a ground for his radio set, which had become detached from his camel’s saddle, all told what had occurred.

“I’ll bet old Bob put up a whale of a fight,” said Jack. “But why didn’t we hear any shots?” He explained about the one shot which he had heard.

“Whoever was here,” said Ali, gauging the situation correctly, “wanted to take Mister Bob prisoner, not to kill him.”

“But Bob had his Winchester,” objected Jack. “Why didn’t he use it? Either they closed in on him too fast, or else it became jammed.”

Ali nodded, but did not reply. He was engaged with other thoughts and in a moment gave Jack the result of his cogitations.

“A half hour for Mister Bob to arrive here, a half hour for us to arrive,” he said. “Not to speak of the time lost in our ostrich hunt. These men have more than an hour’s start of us. They are on horses, and eight or ten in number. We have a camel, which is slower, and we are only two. It would be folly to pursue.”

“Follow or not,” said Jack hotly, “I’ll not let old Bob be carried off without doing my——”

Ali held up a hand and interrupted.

“It will be a long chase,” he said. “We must organize for it. Let us return to the oasis. There are ten of us left. Armed, provisioned, mounted on our camels who have had a long rest, we can return and pick up the trail before nightfall. Camels need less rest than horses. Even though they are slower, by pushing them we may yet cut off these others, if——”

He gestured toward the distant Shaitun Mountains. Jack nodded understandingly.

“You mean if they are Athensians and are heading home?” said Jack. “Well, you are right, Ali. I want to start right away, but your way is better. Come on, mount, and we’ll get back to the oasis as fast as a camel ever made it.”