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Updated: May 18, 2025
The Mongars, who were outnumbered by twenty to one, obeyed without hesitation. Their Chief seemed unconscious, even, of what had happened. He was on his knees, bending over the body of Feerda, half supported in Craig's arms. The officer turned to Quest. "Are you the party who left Port Said for the Mongar Camp?" he asked. Quest nodded. "They took us into the jungle just escaped.
This has been a wonderful day for as, chiefly owing to what I must place on record as an act of great bravery by Craig, my servant. Early this morning, a man-eating lion found his way into the encampment. The Mongars behaved like arrant cowards. They fled right and left, leaving the Chief's little daughter, Feerda, at the brute's mercy.
Then the still, heavy air was suddenly rent by a wild scream of horror. Across the narrow opening the creature had reappeared, carrying something in its mouth, something which gave vent all the time to the most awful yells. Quest fired his revolver on chance and broke into a run. Already the Mongars, disturbed in their evening amusement, were breaking into the undergrowth in chase.
Stick close to me, Lenora." They drew up and hastily dismounted. The Mongars closed in around them. A cloud had drifted in front of the moon, and in the darkness it was almost impossible to see their whereabouts. They heard the Chief's voice. "Shoot first that dog of a Craig!" There was a shriek. Suddenly Feerda, breaking loose from the others, raced across the little division.
Out in the desert there we met the Mongars as foes, and we had, I can assure you, a very narrow escape of our lives. Here, under the shelter of their encampment, it is a very different matter. We have eaten their salt." "It's a strange position," Quest remarked moodily. Lenora leaned forward to where a little group of Mongars were talking together.
"The Mongar village," he explained, "is placed practically at a cul-de-sac so far as regards further progress southwards without making a detour. It is flanked by a strip of jungle and desert on either side, in which there are no wells for many miles. We shall find Craig with the Mongars." They made their way back to the hotel, dined in a cool, bare room, and sauntered out again into the streets.
"Word has been brought to the Chief," he announced, "that the Arab who escaped from the caravan has fallen in with an outpost of British soldiers. They have already started in pursuit of us. The Mongars will take refuge in the jungle, where they have prepared hiding-places. We start at once." "What about us?" the Professor enquired.
"Our search is over, at any rate," Quest interrupted. "It's Craig!" They came galloping up, Craig in white linen clothes and an Arab cloak; the Chief by his side a fine, upright man with long grey beard; behind, three Mongars, their rifles already to their shoulders. The Chief wheeled up his horse as he came within twenty paces of the little party. "White! English!" he shouted.
I have heard it said," the Professor added grimly, "that the Mongars never keep captives longer than twenty-four hours." They all rose at once to their feet, and a few moments later horses were brought. The little procession was already being formed in line. Craig approached them once more. "You will mount now and ride in the middle of our caravan," he directed. "The Chief does not trust you.
The Professor was inclined to scout the theory of Craig having approached them. "You must remember," he pointed out, "that the Mongars hate these fellows. It was part of my arrangement with Hassan that they should leave us when we got in sight of the Mongar Encampment. It may have been meant for Hassan. The Mongars hate the dragomen who bring tourists in this direction at all."
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