ate reappearance. But minute passed
after minute and there was no sign of them. That narrow gully appeared
to have swallowed them up. And then with a curious gulp and start he
saw a little grey cloud wreathe itself slowly from among the rocks and
drift in a long, hazy shred over the desert. In an instant he had torn
Scott and Mortimer from their slumbers.

"Get up, you chaps!" he cried. "I believe Merryweather has been shot by
dervishes."

"And Reuter not here!" cried the two veterans, exultantly clutching at
their notebooks. "Merryweather shot! Where? When? How?"

In a few words Anerley explained what he had seen.

"You heard nothing?"

"Nothing."

"Well, a shot loses itself very easily among rocks. By George, look at
the buzzards!"

Two large brown birds were soaring in the deep blue heaven. As Scott
spoke they circled down and dropped into the little khor.

"That's good enough," said Mortimer, with his nose between the leaves of
his book. "'Merryweather headed dervishes stop return stop shot
mutilated stop raid communications.' How's that?"

"You think he was headed off?"

"Why else should he return?"

"In that case, if they were out in front of him and others cut him off,
there must be several small raiding parties."

"I should judge so."

"How about the 'mutilated'?"

"I've fought against Arabs before."

"Where are you off to?"

"Sarras."

"I think I'll race you in," said Scott.

Anerley stared in astonishment at the absolutely impersonal way in which
these men regarded the situation. In their zeal for news it had
apparently never struck them that they, their camp, and their servants
were all in the lion's mouth. But even as they talked there came the
harsh, importunate rat-tat-tat of an irregular volley from among the
rocks, and the high, keening whistle of bullets over their heads.
A palm spray fluttered down amongst them. At the same instant the six
frightened servants came running wildly in for protection.

It was the cool-headed Mortimer who organised the defence, for Scott's
Celtic soul was so aflame at all this "copy" in hand and more to come
that he was too exuberantly boisterous for a commander. The other, with
his spectacles and his stern face, soon had the servants in hand.
"_Tali henna! Egri!_ What the deuce are you frightened about? Put the
camels between the palm trunks. That's right. Now get the knee-tethers
on them. _Quies_! Did you never hear bullet