Captured by the Arabs

“What for?” demanded Bob.

“They say theirs are too much loaded,” Fekmah answered. “Want to spread out packs on more camels.”

“Well, of all the nerve!” exclaimed Mr. Holton. “Tell them to get out of here – and get out quick, or we’ll fill them full of holes!”

Fekmah turned to the Arabs and put Mr. Holton’s command before them. Then an answer came.

“They say they go, but we will be sorry,” interpreted Fekmah, as the men turned their camels in the opposite direction.

A moment later they disappeared behind a low dune, leaving a cloud of dust at their heels.

For a moment there was silence among the explorers. Then Mr. Lewis spoke up.

“I don’t like this,” he said, greatly annoyed. “Those men are likely to slip up on us when we’re not expecting them. And such desperate characters would lose no time in shooting us.”

“But what can we do?” questioned Bob.

“Keep on the lookout is all,” returned Mr. Holton. “But I’d feel much safer if this hadn’t happened.”

The explorers rode on into the oasis and dismounted. It seemed pleasing to see green trees and grass again. They were delighted that good fortune had enabled them to find an oasis at a time when it was wise to stop for a meal and rest.

There was good water not far away, and they drank all they wanted, glad of the chance to quench their rapidly overpowering thirst.

“Now,” began Mr. Holton, “we’re going to have something to eat. But first let’s put up the tents. It isn’t wise to be in such a sun as this.”

The bags of supplies were removed from the camels. Then the tents were taken out and put up by Bob and Joe. Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton got out the food and soon laid out a delicious meal of canned goods and native products.

“Eat all you want, but don’t gorge yourselves,” cautioned Mr. Holton, as they sat about the tent. “There’s plenty of stuff, but still we must be careful. If we’re to be gone any length of time, we’ll have to use our provisions sparingly.”

They ate quietly, taking it easy in the shade of the tent. The heat of the fierce African sun was somewhat abated by the heavy canvas, which would also serve as a shelter from sand storms, should any come up.

When the meal was over, they sat for a few minutes talking. Then Fekmah got up and went over to the corner of the tent.

“Let us sleep for two or three hours,” he said, curling up on the soft soil. “The sun will soon get so hot that we cannot travel without making sick.”

“Suits me,” agreed Joe. “I feel like I could sleep for two or three days.”

“One of us had better stand guard, though,” said Mr. Lewis. “That bandit caravan might return unexpectedly.”

“I’ll do it,” volunteered Dr. Kirshner. “I’m not sleepy. I’ll just take it easy here and read.”

For the next three hours Bob and Joe slept soundly, forgetting that they were under a scorching desert sun. They were not tired, but were extremely drowsy from the heat.

Then suddenly they were awakened with a start. They looked about wonderingly.

Dr. Kirshner stood over them, holding his rifle in readiness.

“The bandits!” he exclaimed excitedly. “I believe they’re coming!”

Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis jumped to their feet and grabbed their guns. Cautiously they peered out, holding the flap but a few inches up.

“Where are they?” demanded Bob’s father, while Tishmak and Fekmah ran forward.

“I’m not sure that it’s they,” the archæologist said. “But I heard camel steps a moment ago, and in this country it is best to investigate before it’s too late.”

A second later Tishmak stopped still and listened. He held up a hand for silence. Fekmah had also caught a sound.

“It’s they,” he whispered. “Camels! They’re coming this way!”

The swishing sound increased, and Dr. Kirshner called his friends together for a plan of defense.

“Chances are those bandits were planning on surprising us while we slept,” he said quietly. “They figured that the time to get the camels they wanted was during our afternoon siesta. But it apparently didn’t occur to them that we would set a guard.

“Now the thing for us to do is get together and give them a real welcome with bullets. They’ll probably come around the back of the oasis, where our dromedaries are grazing. We’ll go around there and hide beside that sand dune. Then when the robbers – and I think that’s who the newcomers are – come, we’ll fire a volley of bullets into the air. If we find we can’t frighten them away, we’ll shoot their camels from under them. Then if that fails, we’ll have to shoot the men.”

The others thought this good advice.

“We must act cautiously, though,” warned Mr. Lewis, as they made their way to the back of the oasis.

When they came to the dune, they crouched down and waited. Tishmak glanced around the corner.

A moment later he drew back, his face scowling. He mumbled quietly to Fekmah.

“They’re coming,” the latter said. “And they are the robbers.”

The swishing of footsteps grew louder, indicating that the Arabs were coming nearer.

“Now!” said Mr. Lewis. “Fire in line, aiming at the sky. Then we’ll see what happens.”

Seven rifles spoke up in rapid succession, a dense cloud of smoke arising.

That the robbers had been totally surprised was certain, for a loud chattering followed. Then the sand was thrown up, and they rode off at lightning speed.

Joe peeped around the corner of the dune.

“They aren’t going far,” he announced, following the Arabs’ movements closely. “They’ve stopped behind that sand hill over there.”

“By George!” exclaimed Mr. Holton. “They’re going to plant a battery, are they? Well, just let them waste their ammunition. We won’t fire until necessary.”

“We may need our bullets to use on those two thieves who stole Fekmah’s map,” said Bob to his chum, smiling.

The explorers waited ten minutes for the robbers to take the aggressive, but they did not.

“Well,” said Dr. Kirshner, turning about, “I’m going over and get our things packed back on the dromedaries. If nothing prevents, we want to get started in a short time now. It is much cooler, and we should cover a good distance by night.”

“We’ll stay here and guard a few minutes longer,” declared Mr. Lewis. “There’s no telling what those fellows may do.”

Suddenly a sound from the opposite direction caused them to turn about. Then their expressions changed.

Not fifty feet down the slope were the robbers, riding at full speed toward the explorers. The Arabs had their rifles in position to fire, which they were undoubtedly intending to do when slightly nearer.

“Quick!” cried Bob, his voice cool but determined. “Fire at them before they get us!”

A moment later he took careful aim and pulled the trigger.

His rifle cracked, and the foremost camel went down, sending its rider sprawling over the ground.

Bang! came the sound of Mr. Lewis’s gun, and another camel fell.

The eight Arabs who were still mounted wheeled about and galloped back hurriedly. As quickly as possible they formed a wide line, one beside the other, until it stretched several rods.

“They’re going to charge!” observed Dr. Kirshner. “Have your rifles in position, and make every shot count.”

When the bandits were confident of their formation, their leader gave the command, and bending low over their camels, they dashed with all speed toward the explorers.

Shots rang out from the Arabs’ pistols, but they were too unsteady to cause any damage.

The explorers’ rifles spoke out, and those of Bob and the naturalists found their marks.

Again the rifles cracked. Three more camels went down simultaneously. Now only two of the animals remained on foot, but they were halted abruptly by their panic-stricken riders.

“Luckily we downed the leader,” remarked Mr. Lewis. “And now,” he added, “suppose we get away from here at once. There will be no danger of those men starving, for this oasis will furnish them with food and drink. They can wait for another caravan to furnish them with more camels.”

Without hesitation the party placed the packs back on the dromedaries and rode off, Tishmak in the van.

A few pistol bullets whizzed past uncomfortably close, but soon they died down as the Arabs saw the futility of their efforts.

“Whew! That was some experience,” remarked Bob, when they were well out of sight of the oasis. “I hope we see no more such fellows.”

“And you’re not the only one,” said Dr. Kirshner, shaking his head. “But the desert swarms with bandits, and it will be strange if we don’t have another such encounter.”

“Maybe we won’t have such good luck the next time,” mused Joe.

“Nonsense!” Bob retorted. “We’ll drive them off the same as we did these men.”

“But you got that wrong,” corrected Mr. Holton, smiling. “They made us get away.”

Bob looked a little sheepish as he saw where he had been caught.

“Well, anyway,” he grinned, “they didn’t get us.”

As they plodded on, the sand became looser than ever before. The dromedaries, however, did not seem to notice the change. They plodded on with the same stiff steps.

After two hours of constant traveling, the adventurers found themselves in a narrow valley between two high sand dunes. The country was gradually losing its level character and was steadily becoming more hilly.

Suddenly Mr. Holton gave a cry of delight and pointed to something not far away.

CHAPTER XII

A Grim Discovery

“WHAT is it?” asked Bob, slow to catch sight of the object.

“Gazelles,” returned his father. “A small herd of them.”

In a moment the agile animals came running out in full view of all, their beautiful coats showing clearly in the bright sunlight.

The creatures were about a hundred yards away, not any too near for an accurate shot, but the naturalists were much in desire of several as specimens.

Their long-distance rifles were equipped with telescopes, making it much easier, according to the naturalists, to sight an object at a hundred yards or more. Bob’s gun, however, did not have this convenience.

Mr. Lewis prepared to take aim.

“You take the animal to the extreme right, Howard,” he said to Mr. Holton. “Bob, you pick the one in the middle, and I’ll try to get one at the left. Tom,” he said to Dr. Kirshner, “suppose you count to three. When you say three we’ll all fire together. Let’s go, now.”

“One, two, THREE.”

Bang! Three rifles spoke as one.

Mr. Holton cried out in delight.

“Hurrah!” he said. “Got all of the ones we aimed at. Good work.”

The report of the guns caused great disorder in the herd, the graceful creatures leaping about at a speed that did their thin, muscular legs full justice. Before long they had disappeared behind the sand dunes.

“Now we’ll ride over and see what the ones killed look like,” said Mr. Lewis.

As the dead gazelles were not in a direction that would take the explorers off their steady course, the pack camels were driven along also.

When they reached the spot, Joe cried out in amazement at sight of the gazelles’ sleek skin. It was of a yellowish brown color, and the abdomen was as white as snow. The legs were long and thin, narrowing down to a finely shaped hoof.

“As beautiful an animal as one can find,” declared Mr. Lewis, who with Mr. Holton had been everywhere and knew what he was talking about.

“Two males and a female,” observed Bob’s father, noting the curved horns of the former.

“Look at the eyes,” said Joe. “They’re almost jet black.”

The naturalists began at once the task of removing the skins, for it was best not to leave them on too long under such a sun.

As soon as this was completed they were placed in a solution of alum that had been prepared by Dr. Kirshner under the naturalists’ directions.

“In our opinion, that’s the best preservative there is,” remarked Mr. Holton, “although there are many others in use.”

It required the better part of two hours to complete the task. The sun was just beginning to sink behind the distant mounds when they were ready to continue the journey.

“Be dark before long,” predicted Fekmah. “Then we will have to stop and wait for the moon. If you have not before traveled on desert under moon, you have much to see.”

They plodded continually on, Bob and Joe occasionally taking motion pictures. As the heat gradually became less intense, the youths felt a thrill of exultation run through their veins. Now there was nothing to worry about, no fierce sun to sweat under, no cares or anxieties to occupy their minds. Life – life on the boundless Sahara – seemed great.

“The folks back home are sure missing something,” smiled Bob. “Though I suppose a lot of them wouldn’t care for doings of this kind.”

Slowly the darkness came. At last, when the little caravan was in a notch between two unusually high dunes, Tishmak called a halt and conversed with Fekmah. Then the latter turned to the Americans.

“Tishmak says it is not thing to go on through darkness,” he told them. “Might come on to something bad. We’ll wait here for moon to come out, then go on.”

“Now’s a good chance to get our suppers,” said Dr. Kirshner, commanding his dromedary to lower.

By the aid of flashlights a limited but satisfying meal was prepared on paper, and the adventurers all ate heartily.

“Too bad there’s nothing for the camels,” said Mr. Lewis.

“No need of worrying about them,” returned Fekmah. “They can have no food or drink for good many days. Soon we come to region of thin vegetation. Then they eat.”

After the meal the explorers stretched out on the now cool sand, glad of a chance to rest their tired limbs. The constant jolting of the dromedaries had contributed much toward fatiguing them.

“Now’s the time when a coat comes in handy,” said Bob, reaching into his bag on the camel’s back.

“Wait till dawn, if you want to see real cold weather,” came from Dr. Kirshner. “Isn’t that right, Fekmah?”

The Arab nodded.

“Temperature often gets down to thirty-five degrees,” he said.

Before long the moon came out in full splendor, flooding the vast expanse with enchanting light and creating a scene beautiful beyond description. The sand looked white all about, broken only by an occasional ripple caused by the wind. The brilliant moon was surrounded by a large white circle, which seemed to throw silver darts on the dunes. In the distance were groups of luminous clouds, whose ragged edges were transparent. It was a wonderful sight, and the explorers sat for some time as though transfixed.

“Never saw anything like it in my life!” exclaimed Mr. Holton, his breath almost taken away by the magnificent spectacle.

“Wonder if we’re dreaming?” mused Joe, also fascinated.

Fekmah and Tishmak had been out to witness such a spectacle before, but seemed to think no less of it.

“I guess here’s a case where familiarity doesn’t breed contempt,” laughed Mr. Lewis, his eyes on the Arabs.

Bob got out the movie camera, intent upon taking several scenes that would be “really different.”

“Moonlight always makes a good impression on a motion-picture audience,” remarked Joe. “And away out here on the Sahara – well, it’ll seem wonderful!”

Tishmak made signs that they move on, and the others were glad to do so. Since there was so much light, it would be easy to find their way.

They were now in a region of high sand hills, with still no rocks other than the small bright-colored pebbles that were scattered about. Vegetation began to be more numerous in the form of had, drinn, and other plants, which were occasionally eaten by the dromedaries.

“I wonder if Fekmah is sure he’s headed right?” said Bob, as he and his friend again took their places at the end of the caravan.

“He doesn’t seem to be having any trouble yet,” was the reply. “You remember he made another map from memory after the first one was stolen. Chances are he knows where he’s going.”

“If he doesn’t, we probably won’t find the hidden riches,” was Bob’s return.

They trudged on, up and down the sand hills, until about ten o’clock. Then Tishmak called a halt.

“We camp here for night,” announced Fekmah, after a short conference with the guide. “It not wise to go any farther tonight. We get a sleep; then start on in morning.”

“I was just thinking it’s about time,” laughed Dr. Kirshner.

Tishmak had purposely picked out a deep gulch between the mounds as the stopping place. This would be a fair precaution against the nomad bandits who were reputed to be in this region.

“Takes a guide to know what’s best,” remarked Bob, observing the high walls of sand all about them. “The country in this vicinity is so rough that a caravan wouldn’t come anywhere near it, especially later on, when it will be pitch dark.”

The explorers dismounted and got out the tent. The poles were put up, and in a short time everything was in readiness for the night’s sleep.

“Curl up tightly in your blankets,” advised Mr. Lewis, as he prepared to occupy a corner of the tent. “It will be very cold along toward dawn.”

“And will we sleep!” said Bob, throwing himself down in relaxation.

Bob’s prediction proved right. The boys enjoyed the deep slumber that only an explorer can experience. It was wholly unexpected that they be awakened at dawn by their elders.

“It’s a dirty trick!” grinned Joe, as his father urged him to fully awaken.

“I know,” the naturalist said sympathetically. “But we must be on our way before the sun gets so hot that traveling will be dangerous.”

But once up, it was easy to forget sleepiness and enjoy the early-morning air.

“Talk about cold!” cried Joe, shivering in spite of the fact that he was wrapped in a heavy coat. “I’ll bet the old mercury is down to thirty degrees.”

“Not quite that bad,” laughed Dr. Kirshner, holding up a thermometer. “It’s thirty-eight.”

“Even that is cold for the desert,” said Bob. “I always had the impression that it is hot all the time.”

“There are some places that way,” returned Mr. Lewis. “But certainly not the old Sahara.”

Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton got out the provisions and began preparing the breakfast.

“And while they’re doing that, suppose we go up to the top of this mound,” suggested Bob to his chum. “It’s rather high. Maybe we can get a view of the country ahead of us.”

“Don’t be gone long, boys,” called Dr. Kirshner, as they made their way to the edge of the hill.

The sand under their feet was, in many places, loose and unstable, but they found sufficient hard spots to make safe footholds. It was not a little difficult to estimate where they could safely climb higher. Perspiration was dripping from them when they at last reached the top and turned their gaze toward the horizon.

A cry of astonishment came from Joe at the scene that was spread out before them. The dunes that stretched away in the distance were tinted with many colors, showing strangely in the early-morning light. Some were pink, others blue, still others green, while the ones farther away paled away into nothingness.

“That’s a new one on me,” remarked Bob, highly puzzled. “I never expected anything like this.”

“Nor I. Wonder what causes it?”

“Beyond me.”

They stood for some time gazing at the varicolored mounds. Then Joe turned about.

“Better get back to camp,” he suggested. “Breakfast may be ready.”

They were about to retrace their footsteps when they heard a rustling sound but a few feet away.

“What’s that?” muttered Bob, sensing that danger was at hand.

The youths glanced around – and then shrank back in horror!

CHAPTER XIII

The Hideous Reptile

“A horned viper!” exclaimed Bob fearfully, recognizing the long, sinister body that was coiled almost at their feet.

“And it’s going to strike!” cried Joe. “Get your pistol – quick! We’ll both fire at it. Oh, how I wish we had our rifles!”

The snake was preparing to lunge forward, its terrible head swaying slowly from side to side. Whether or not the fangs contained poison, the boys did not know, but they knew they could not take a chance.

Neither Bob nor Joe was an outstanding shot with a revolver, and they felt rather panic-stricken as they raised the weapons and took aim.

After a few seconds that seemed to the youths like hours, Bob pulled the trigger.

A moment later the cold sweat burst out on his forehead, as he saw that he had missed. Before he could take another aim, the reptile would be upon him, a mass of scaly ferocity.

Bang!

Joe’s pistol spoke out, and the bullet caught the snake in the neck, just as it was about to strike.

Another shot from Joe’s automatic struck in a vital spot. The fiendish head turned violently, then fell to the ground with a thud. The tail twitched about momentarily, and as life passed out, the horrible body lay still.

It was some time before Bob and Joe could regain their natural peace of mind, for the strain had been great. Their hearts were beating rapidly from the unusual mental exertion.

“A narrow escape!” breathed Joe, putting his gun back in its holster.

“Thanks to you, old boy, we came out alive,” praised Bob, giving his friend an affectionate pat on the back. “It was your coolness and determination that sent those bullets in the right place. I was too nervous, I guess.”

“But say,” began Joe, turning aside the commendation of his friend, “our dads might want this fellow as a specimen. Do you suppose they would? Those bullets didn’t shatter it as a rifle cartridge would have.”

The youths were not particularly anxious to handle the long, scaly body, but they felt it their duty to do all they could for their fathers.

“What say we take it to the edge of the hill and roll it down?” suggested Bob. “The way is gradual and there are no protruding crags to tear it.”

“All right. We never can carry it without falling ourselves.”

The reptile was pushed over the side of the dune, and the boys made their way down. They slid more than climbed, but reached the bottom uninjured.

Mr. Lewis came out to meet them, on his face a look of anxiety.

“What kept you so long?” he asked.

“That over there,” replied Joe, pointing to the snake, which lay but a few feet away.

The naturalist ran over to it. Then he straightened up in surprise.

“A horned viper,” he pronounced. “Where’d you find it?”

Bob related the narrow escape at the top of the dune, not forgetting to point out Joe’s part in killing the reptile. When he had finished, Mr. Lewis shook his head gravely.

“Never leave camp without your rifles,” he warned them. “In a strange land anything is likely to happen.”

During breakfast the youths’ experience with the viper was the chief topic for conversation. Tishmak looked at the boys with a new respect as he heard the account of their daring deed.

As soon as the morning meal was over, the tent and provisions were packed back on the dromedaries, and the explorers continued their journey.

“How much ground did we probably cover yesterday?” asked Dr. Kirshner of Fekmah, as they followed a narrow way between the rolling sand dunes.

“At least a hundred miles,” the Arab answered. “Perhaps many more. Dromedaries trot rather rapid.”

“Then, at that rate, it shouldn’t take us so very long to reach the Ahaggaras, should it?” asked Joe, who with Bob had not yet taken his place at the end of the caravan.

“No. But something could keep us back. Maybe storm, or could be bandits. Never know about that.”

As the explorers moved on, they occasionally saw small animals and birds. The naturalists were constantly on the lookout, shooting any creature that came within range of their guns. Among the victims of their marksmanship were desert larks, rats, hares, lizards, and a small animal called the ferrec.

Bob and Joe kept their time occupied in taking motion pictures of the country they were passing through. By the time that their caravan had stopped for the midday meal, the boys had “rolled off” a good many hundred feet of film.

“Here’s hoping our moving pictures here prove to be as successful as those that we took in Brazil,” said Joe, as he took out a bag of rations from a camel’s pack.

“If they do, the Neuman Film Corporation may give us a job on every future expedition we might make with our dads,” came from Bob.

Thus far the day’s traveling had not yet brought them to an oasis. Tishmak informed them that water would probably not be found until late the next night. The containers, however, held a large supply, making it unnecessary for the explorers to worry.