Towards morning the fire dwindled and went out. At daylight they could
see no sign of von Hardenberg and his companion. The entire valley
appeared deserted. In this part of the country there were no villages,
the valleys being too barren and infertile for agriculture.
The next night the bivouac-fire was again visible, this time nearer than
before. On the third night they were not more than seven or eight miles
in rear of those whom they pursued.
On these occasions they were careful that their own fire should not be
observed. They always lit it under the cover of large rocks or
boulders, screening it from the north. They had every reason to suppose
that the sheikh and his companion believed them dead. The Black Dog had
doubtless told his employer that their pursuers had been buried alive in
the crater of the old volcano.
Every night they were careful to post a sentry, and, on one occasion,
when the first signs of dawn were visible in the east, Harry—who was on
watch—suddenly heard a sound, faint but very distinct, immediately
behind his back.
He turned quickly, but could see nothing. He waited for some moments,
holding his breath, with his finger ready on the trigger of his
revolver.
Nothing happened. The boy imagined that the sound had been caused by a
rock-rabbit or a mountain-rat, and was about to resume his former
position, when something descended upon him with a spring like that of a
tiger.
In the nick of time he jumped aside. He saw a white figure rushing
violently through space. In the moonlight he saw the flash of a knife
that missed him by the fraction of an inch, and the next moment he was
full length upon the ground, struggling in the arms of a powerful and
savage man.
[Illustration: IN THE MOONLIGHT HE SAW THE FLASH OF A KNIFE THAT MISSED
HIM BY THE FRACTION OF AN INCH]
Locked together in a death-grip, they rolled over and over, first one on
top and then the other. There was a loud shout, which came from the
lips of Braid, and at that the two guides sprang to their feet and
hastened to Harry’s assistance.
The struggle ended as suddenly as it had begun. One second, strong
fingers gripped Harry by the throat, and the next his adversary was
gone. He had vanished like a ghost; he had slipped away like an eel.
Harry Urquhart sprang to his feet and listened. He heard a laugh—a
wild, fiendish laugh—far away in the night. Stooping, he picked up a
bare knife that was lying on the ground.
"I wrenched this from his hand," said he, showing the knife to Fernando.
The half-caste examined it in the firelight. It was a knife of Arab
design.
"That," said he, "is the knife of the Black Dog."
"Why did he not fire?" asked Harry.
"Evidently because he did not wish to warn the Germans. That is a bad
sign; it means that the German troops are in the neighbourhood."
The following night, when they scanned the valley, they could see no
sign of the camp-fire of von Hardenberg and the Arab. The sheikh,
having failed in his enterprise on the previous evening, was evidently
determined to exercise greater caution. Harry examined the valley with
his glasses, not only to the north but also to the west and to the east.
However, he could see no sign of their enemies.
"I do not like the look of it," said Fernando. "So long as we knew
where the Black Dog was, we had the whip hand of him. We must be
prepared for the worst."
"Surely," said Harry, "he will push on towards Maziriland?"
"The shortest way is not always the quickest," answered the other. "As
likely as not he has gone back upon his tracks, and even now is encamped
somewhere behind us."
That night they deemed it advisable to light no fire. Seated amid the
rocks on the crest-line of the hills, where the wind moaned and howled
from the west, they held a council of war. It was decided that, during
the march on the following day, the two guides should act as scouts, the
elder moving some distance in advance of the three Europeans, Cortes
following in rear.
By the time the sun rose above the mountain-tops, they were well upon
their way. At mid-day they halted for a meal, and it was then that
Cortes came running to the bivouac.
"Come here!" he cried. "I have seen them."
They followed the man to the crest-line, crawling on hands and knees.
Only Peter Klein remained by the fire. Since they had escaped from the
crater of the volcano no one had spoken to the man. The guides showed
only too plainly that they despised him, and neither Harry nor Braid
were disposed to forgive the scoundrel for having stolen their last drop
of water.
They came to a place where the valley-side dropped down in an almost
perpendicular cliff. Far below was a little grove of trees, around
which a stream meandered, its waters glistening in the sunshine. Beyond
the grove, on the other side of the valley, following a kind of
bridle-path that led to the north, were five men, one of whom was
dressed in robes of flowing white.
"That is the sheikh," said Fernando. "He walks by the side of the
German."
"And the other three?" asked Braid.
"They are natives from the bush. The sheikh has doubtless enlisted
their services during the last three days. The natives dare not refuse
him labour. He was all-powerful when he was a slave-trader; fear of him
passed from village to village by word of mouth. On an expedition such
as this, he is doubly to be dreaded, because he has friends among the
Maziris themselves."
"Then," cried Harry, "supposing he tells the tribe to rise against us?"
"There is little fear of that," said Fernando. "He is hated by the
chiefs and head-men, who resent the authority he wields over many of the
people."
"Then, what will he do when he draws near to the caves?"
"He will rob by night," said Cortes. "Under cover of darkness he will
endeavour to secure the treasure."
"My brother," said the elder man, laying a hand upon the other’s
shoulder, "tell me, how far away is Black Dog?"
The man judged the distance with his eye.
"Sixteen hundred yards," said he.
"Nearly a mile," said the other. "I will try my luck. I have sworn an
oath by the saints."
So saying, he lay down upon his face and loaded his rifle. Lifting the
back-sight, he took long and careful aim, and then pressed the trigger.
There came a sharp report, and the bullet sped across the valley.
In the space of a few seconds the sheikh and his followers had vanished.
To hit a moving figure at that distance was a well-nigh impossible task,
but that the bullet had not been far from its mark was apparent from the
way in which the party had so suddenly disappeared.
Von Hardenberg was moving up one side of the valley, Harry and his
companions on the other. It was therefore a race for the treasure. If
Harry reached the caves first, he would be unable to enter the vault, by
reason of the fact that the Sunstone was not in his possession. He
would have to lie in wait for the Black Dog and the German.
For two days they saw nothing more of their rivals. There was water in
plenty in the district, and presently springs and streams became even
more numerous, and they entered into a country that was thickly wooded.
At the same time the mountains became more wild and rugged, and it was
soon impossible to make progress by way of the hills.
They therefore descended into the valley, and entered a region of
scattered trees, which gradually became a forest, where they were shut
out from the sunlight and the light of the stars. There were no paths
in the forest, and they could seldom march more than eight miles a day
by reason of the tangled undergrowth through which they had to cut a
passage.
When they came out of the forest they were in a land of rolling hills,
which, the guides told them, mounted to the summit of Maziriland. Their
first camp in this district was under the lee of a hill; and, since they
had seen nothing of either von Hardenberg or the German troops for
several days, they deemed it safe to light a fire. There was no
scarcity of fuel, and very soon a fire was blazing, the green wood
crackling and hissing in the flames. Over the fire a kettle was
suspended by a chain from three iron rods, and from the spout of this
kettle steam was issuing, when suddenly a shot was fired in the
distance, and a bullet drilled a hole through the kettle, so that the
water from within ran down into the fire, whence issued a little cloud
of steam.