Part 5 (1/2)

Then as the charge broke and the riflemen galloped away to reload their weapons, d.i.c.k gave the signal to retreat to the second line of defense.

The Taharans fell back, keeping close to the ground and taking shelter at every bush and boulder.

So far the battle had been in their favor. The black-bearded ruffians had been repulsed with dead and wounded, while the Taharans had escaped without loss of a man.

Of course, luck could not favor them always. The raiders had withdrawn to take counsel with Abdul and that ferocious chieftain swore by the beard of the Prophet that he would show no mercy to the ”infidel dogs”

who had dared to resist him. His hawk eyes stared furiously at the cliffs, then at the boulders, behind each of which lurked a bowman.

”We will not make another charge!” he ordered. ”This time each horseman will ride warily, rifle ready for action. Make a detour!

Ride to one side of the rocks and try to pick off the archers one by one.”

Suli, who rode beside Abdul, searched the horizon with black, angry eyes.

”Where is Slythe?” he muttered. ”The winged warrior has failed us!”

Abdul heard him and vented a hearty curse upon the missing airman.

”He has led us into a trap! May he perish and the dogs devour him!”

”He did not warn us that the savages of this tribe would fight like demons!” put in a wounded Arab, knotting a strip of linen about his bleeding arm.

”If we had known that they could fight like tigers, we would have raided them by night when they slept,” growled Abdul. ”Now it is too late for a surprise or a parley. We must fight it through.”

”And first of all we must have water for ourselves and our horses!”

grumbled Suli.

”Yes, by the Prophet! First we shall capture the spring. But not by storm! Ride warily and pick off the dogs one at a time!”

Carefully the troop approached and this time d.i.c.k used another strategy. As an Arab rider would approach a rock, a Taharan would break and run back to another shelter. But when the Arab chased him, firing his rifle, a second tribesman still hiding behind the rock would take a shot at the Arab at close range.

So keen and clever were the Taharan archers, that few arrows missed.

But the tribesmen were not so fortunate as to go unscathed through the second attack. More than one was dropped by an Arab bullet, some to rise no more.

d.i.c.k Oakwood directed the running fight, giving orders to Raal, who shouted them to his men in a voice that rang out like the bellowing of a bull. Though he might be frightened at evil magic and things that he did not understand, Raal was brave as a lion when it came to battle.

Dan Carter had stayed in the rear according to d.i.c.k's orders until the thrill of watching the fight got his nerves on edge with excitement.

Then, armed with a bow and a quiver of arrows, he ran from one shelter to another until he was among the fighting men. At the last rock where he took refuge, a Taharan archer was already hidden, driving his arrows to the mark every time an Arab rider came within range.

Dan saw it was Kurt, one of d.i.c.k's most trusted henchmen, and with a word of encouragement, the boy took up his position on the other side of the big rock.

”Let 'em have it!” said Dan.

”Let 'em have it!” Kurt repeated and both marksmen let fly at a Bedouin, mounted on a splendid gray horse that came charging toward the rock.

The arrows whizzed through the air, but the rider was on guard and dropped from his saddle, hanging to the side of his horse and protected by its body.