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They glared at each other with fierce mistrust. "Ah, look! look!" shrieked Canaris suddenly. "The black wretch!" and springing across the raft he flung himself on Bildad and grasped him with both hands savagely by the throat. Melton and Guy tore him away by main force and there beside the African lay the bag empty.
A vast, sullen roar went up instantly, and then, mingled with the clang of the tomtom and the tumult of the people, rang out a harsh rattle of alarm-drums that swelled and spread until every oval watch-turret on the town walls was sounding the tocsin announcing to the subjects of Rao Khan the escape of the hated Englishmen. "Now for it," cried Canaris. "Don't be scared.
With a warning cry to Canaris, a hasty injunction to Colonel Carrington to hold fast, he snatched a short dagger from his waist and plunged it an inch or more into the flank of the Greek's camel, and then into that of his own animal. The frightened and agonized beasts pranced madly for a second or two and then plunged desperately forward, trampling the amazed guards right and left.
Melton and Canaris were just on the point of cutting into the dead lion with their sabers, the only weapons that remained to them, when a fierce roar echoed through the cavern, repeated two or three times in rapid succession, and in the gloom they could see a pair of shining eyes.
We must reach the mouth of the river by that time. Canaris fished, but caught nothing. Eighth stage. The outlook is dark. I fear none will ever read these pages. The river begins to run sluggishly. Bildad shrieks and raves continually. Sir Arthur is better. They are all asleep now. Forbes and I were put on guard, but Forbes has gone to sleep, and I am afraid I shall do the same without knowing it.
If my plan fails we can be no worse off. What I have resolved to do is this: Forbes will remain at the cavern. You and I, Canaris, will stain our faces to pass for Portuguese, and mounted on these camels, we will ride boldly into the camp of the Gallas and proclaim ourselves messengers from Makar Makaol at Zaila.
As they stepped from the shadows upon the open roadway, an Arab stalked from a doorway opposite, and without troubling himself to come nearer addressed Canaris in a strange tongue. Guy's heart seemed to leap into his throat as he nervously handled the revolver that stuck in his belt. Canaris coolly replied in a low voice.
It was Carrington hailing them from the top of the cliff, and they could make out his figure dimly in the torchlight. "What is the matter?" shouted Guy lustily, making a trumpet of his hands. In a moment the reply came distinctly to their ears. "Canaris hears a strange cry from the lake. You had better come up." "We are cut off," Guy shouted back.
It is our only hope." "Yes, our only hope," echoed the Greek. "Come quickly, there is no time to lose." He slipped to the ground and led his companions rapidly down the valley toward the stone village. They hastened on among the scattered rocks for a quarter of a mile or more, until the extreme southern edge was reached, and then Canaris stopped.
"It is a war party," said Canaris, "and we are not so far from the borders of Abyssinia, after all. It is no uncommon thing for them to raid on the Gallas." The dagger passed from hand to hand, and was inspected with much curiosity, until Canaris pointed toward the east and said: "Morning has come, and the sun will soon be up. Let us climb the rock and make a survey of the country."
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