le sky; a
splendid mark for a prowling Dervish, he reflected.

As if in answer to his thought there came the sudden crack of a rifle
from the direction of the ruined temple. The figure of the rider
lurched over, and, with a leap, the animal had thrown him and was off
desertward. There was a fiendish yell from the mimosa bushes. Three
or four dark forms rose like magic from their shadows, their spears
glinting in the moonlight as they leaped forward. The wounded man lay
between his assailants and Scotty, somewhat nearer the latter. As it
was Scotty reached him first. The man was lying on the sand. He had
his revolver in his hand and was striving desperately to raise himself
into a position to shoot. Scotty dragged him into a sheltering nook
between two ledges of rock, snatched the weapon from his hand, and
crouching down sent a bullet spinning out to meet the advancing rush.
The Dervishes halted; the revolver spoke again; there was a howl as a
man fell. Scotty felt a moment's inner exultation in that steady aim
he had never lost since the days he and Dan shot chipmunks behind the
schoolhouse. But the yell had been answered by another farther from
the river; three more glinting spearheads suddenly appeared from the
dark expanse beyond, and came hurtling towards him. He poured the
remaining chambers of his revolver into the mad charge; but, when the
last was gone, the enemy were still leaping forward. He threw down the
weapon and looked about swiftly. The wounded man had a sword at his
side. Scotty grasped it and the same instant the yelling savages were
upon him. There was no use trying to take cover now. He stood erect
and struck out madly. He was dimly surprised when the first man went
down before him. He swung his weapon fiercely, with no thought of aim;
but he was as agile as even these wild sons of the desert and his arm
had the strength of ten. It could not last long, he knew, and he
fought with the energy of despair. There was a strange roaring in his
cars, as though he were in the midst of the cataract again, something
warm was streaming down his face and obscuring his vision; he struck
out blindly, desperately.

But now another sound arose, even above the roaring in Scotty's head,
the sound of a familiar voice; a shout from down the river. Scotty's
heart leaped; he uttered a strange, weird yell--"Oro, Oro, woo-hoo!"
It was the long, fierce battle-cry of Glenoro school. If Dan were in
Egypt