ce of the earth. It
seemed unlikely that he would have wandered into the bush, but this was
the only conclusion that they could come to; and they spent the rest of
the day in fruitless searching.

Herne slept not at all that night. The place seemed to be alive with
ghostly whisperings, and he could not bring himself to rest. He spent
the long hours revolver in hand, waiting with a dogged patience for the
dawn.

But when it came at last, in a sudden tropical stream of light
illuminating all things, he knew that, his vigilance notwithstanding, he
had been tricked. The morning dawned upon a deserted camp. The natives
had fled in the night, and only Hassan and the camels remained.

Hassan was largely contemptuous.

"Let them go!" he said. "We are but a day's journey from Wanda. We will
go forward alone, _effendi_. The chief of the Wandis will not slay two
peaceful merchants who desire only to travel through to the Great
Desert."

And so, with the camels strung together, they went forward. There was no
attempt at concealment in their progress. The path they travelled was
clearly defined, and they pursued it unmolested. But ever the conviction
followed Herne that countless eyes were upon them, that through the
depths of the bush naked bodies slipped like reptiles, hemming them in
on every side.

They had travelled a couple of hours, and the sun was climbing
unpleasantly high, when, rounding a curve of the path, they came
suddenly upon a huddled figure. It looked at first sight no more than a
bundle of clothes kicked to one side, too limp and tattered to contain a
human form. But neither Herne nor his companion was deceived. Both knew
in a flash what that inanimate object was.

Hassan was beside it in a moment, and Herne only waited to draw his
revolver before he followed.

It was the boy, Ahmed, still breathing indeed, but so far gone that
every gasp seemed as if it must be his last. Hassan drew back the
covering from his face, and, in spite of himself, Herne shuddered; for
it was mutilated beyond recognition. The features were slashed to
ribbons.

"Water, _effendi_!" Hassan's voice recalled him; and he turned aside to
procure it.

It was little more than a tepid drain, but it acted like magic upon the
dying boy. There came a gasping whisper, and Hassan stooped to hear.

When, a few minutes later, he stood up, Herne knew that the end had
come; knew, too, by the look in the Arab's eyes that they stood
themselve