Page:Harris Dickson--Old Reliable in Africa.djvu/160

 Yeb. Your man is with them, on foot, a prisoner."

"What's the trouble?" the Colonel questioned. "Are these people hostile?"

Cameron shook his head. "No; they've been quiet for years. Can't understand them. Nobody understands an Arab. We must run out there and take a look at them. I suggest that you remain" "No. I shall go with you." The Colonel reached out to McDonald, who silently handed him a rifle.

"McDonald," he said, "I wish you would see that I get a horse. I couldn't shoot from a camel."

Messengers on swift camels were already padding away like the wind to summon Cameron's overseers—five stalwart British lads, sun-tempered and desert-wise, who would be worth a hundred of the fellaheen if it came to a brush. The Jaalins of Beni Yeb had learned promptitude from the Khalifah. Raid after raid had taught them to mount and vanish without delay—this tarteeb being followed with the precision of a fire-drill.

An even dozen white men, almost as brown as the Jaalins, fell in behind Cameron. The American, who felt that this was his quarrel, insisted upon riding in front. Horses, camels,