Foster James H.
Captured by the Arabs

CHAPTER XVIII
Savage Tribesmen

FOR a moment the youths were taken completely aback in surprise. That they would see anything like this away out on the Sahara was not in the least expected. They stood for some time in sheer amazement and not a little fear.

“An army coming at us!” muttered Bob, staring at the distant spectacle.

“An army, yes. Must be five hundred cavalrymen.”

“But – but it can’t be! It’s impossible. What would soldiers be doing away out here on the desert? Something’s seriously wrong somewhere. If just one of us should see such a thing it might indicate that the old brain wasn’t working just right, but for you and I both – ”

“Come on,” suggested Joe, giving his dromedary a slight kick. “Let’s get out of here. I’m greatly worried.”

The youths turned their camels back to camp for a short distance; then they urged them on to a fast trot.

They were not a little relieved when they finally reached the oasis, where they found their friends awaiting them.

“Where have you been so long?” inquired Mr. Lewis, his face not a little serious.

“We thought maybe something held you back,” added Dr. Kirshner.

“It did,” replied Bob, trying to remain calm.

The men sat up quickly, sensing that some misfortune had come upon the boys.

“What was it?” demanded Mr. Holton tensely.

“An army,” Joe returned soberly.

For a second there was silence. Then the men broke out in laughter. Evidently they thought the youths were joking. Even Fekmah joined in, his dark features drawn together in mirth.

“Nothing to laugh at,” said Joe, vexed because the men thought their experience funny. “It nearly scared Bob and me out of our wits.”

Mr. Holton grew more serious.

“Come, now,” he said. “Tell us what you mean.”

Joe told of seeing the phenomenon from the top of the hill, saying that there appeared to be at least five hundred horsemen coming toward them.

When he had finished, the naturalists and Dr. Kirshner jumped up in wonder and not a little fear, but Fekmah only laughed.

“W-what’s humorous!” demanded Mr. Lewis, greatly perplexed.

“Everything,” said Fekmah, laughing still harder. “What the young men saw was only an illusion or mirage. There no army on Sahara. Only look like army.”

“You mean it was a trick of nature, like the more common mirages of lakes on the desert?” asked Dr. Kirshner with great interest.

“Yes,” the Arab answered. “Caused by the bending of the rays of light when they strike the hot sand.”

“Well, that’s a new one on me!” confessed Bob. “I was aware of the fact that mirages of lakes are common, but that I should see an army – ”

It was now rapidly becoming dark. The explorers thought it best to sleep all through the night and not wait for the moon, for they greatly needed the rest.

“Tomorrow morning I’d like to see that mirage that you boys thought was an army,” said Mr. Holton, when they prepared to retire.

“And I, too,” put in Dr. Kirshner. “As it isn’t out of our way, we can all ride over there.”

“It’ll be a good chance to take some motion pictures,” said Bob. “A scene as unusual as that is sure to attract the curiosity of an audience.”

Tishmak informed them that they would be out of this short sand stretch early the next morning. Then they would come into the Ahaggar Mountains, the real home of the mysterious Tuaregs.

“And I expect to begin my work in this region,” announced Dr. Kirshner. “Perhaps if I put legend and history together, I can locate something that will prove of great value to the world of archæology. I have in mind at present the tomb of a great king who reigned in those mountains many thousands of years ago. He is said to be an ancestor of the Berbers, who are related to the Tuaregs. When we come to the many Tuareg villages, I intend to make inquiries as to their ancient legends.”

They were up early the next morning, anticipating the exploration of the mountains that lay ahead of them.

But in order to get to the Ahaggars, it would be necessary to continue for a short distance over the sand dunes.

After breakfast they rode over to the distant hill to get a view of the mirage seen by the boys the day before. Sure enough, the army of horsemen appeared to be riding toward them, and the details were rather plain.

Mr. Lewis shook his head in bewilderment.

“Sure is strange,” he muttered. “Why should the horses and the riders be so clearly defined? I can easily understand the mirage of a lake, but this sure gets my goat.”

They stood for some time staring at the distant spectacle, Bob and Joe taking motion pictures. Finally they rode on up the hill to catch a glimpse of the Ahaggars.

“I rather think that peak not Illiman but Oudane,” said Fekmah to the youths, in answer to their question asking the name of the distant high mountain. “Mount Oudane very high, and much nearer than Mount Illiman.”

More movies were taken by the youths. Then they rode down the opposite side of the dune in the direction of the mountains.

“Ahaggars very strange,” said Fekmah to the Americans, as they rode in a group at the back of their pack camels. “There are high cliffs, tall needle-like peaks, deep caves. There are canyons, ravines, underground passageways. We see much, and we too be in great danger.”

“Danger?” Joe looked up in some surprise.

“Yes. Very great danger. Wild Tuaregs roam about, and when on a raid, think only of robbing travelers. Then, too, we be in region where the two thieves who stole my map are. They perhaps be waiting for us and shoot us quick without giving warning. Many other dangers we might see.”

Fekmah sobered the Americans a little. They had not anticipated any great peril, although they knew the two thieves might, should they have arrived at the hidden riches first, give them trouble.

“But we’ll come out all right,” predicted Bob, again becoming cheerful. “We’ll show those fellows that we’re capable of attending to any crisis.”

A little farther on they reached the wall of rock that had previously shut out the view of the mountains. It stretched many miles to their right and left, but there were numerous breaks that afforded openings into the country beyond.

They had barely reached the other side of the wall-like formation when Joe caught sight of a group of tents quite a distance to the east. He motioned for his friends to look in that direction.

“Probably Arabs,” pronounced Fekmah, after Tishmak had chattered rapidly for a moment. “They nomads, who wander about the desert taking their flock of goats with them.”

“Suppose we go over and see them,” suggested Mr. Holton. “Perhaps they can give us a description of the country ahead of us. There may be many more wells than we think, and it will do us no harm to know of them.”

The others were in favor of carrying out Mr. Holton’s move. But Fekmah warned them to be on the lookout for treachery.

“They probably not do us harm, but can never tell,” he said, as the dromedaries were turned in the direction of the tents.

They reached the encampment in a very short time and were about to look up some of the Arabs when a savage growl made them wheel around in surprise and fear.

“Look!” cried Joe, laying his hand on his rifle.

Two large, savage dogs were making toward them with all fury, showing their terrible teeth in anger. The enraged creatures were probably owned by the Arabs in the tents and were acting as guards against all marauders.

The foremost dog was almost upon Mr. Lewis’s camel. In another moment the beast would sink its teeth in the dromedary’s throat.

Displaying the quickness of a cat, the naturalist unslung his rifle, took hasty aim, and fired.

The report of the gun was followed by a longdrawn howl from the huge dog.

“Quick!” cried Bob. “The other dog!”

The second beast was rushing forward angrily.

Mr. Lewis again took aim. The others, trusting in his marksmanship, made no move to get their rifles.

Click! There was no report this time. His magazine was empty!

Mr. Holton tried vainly to get his rifle out in time. Something must be done at once, for the savage dog would be at the camels in but a moment.

Suddenly Joe leaped from his camel directly in the path of the oncoming animal. The dog stopped for a second, then rushed at the youth with terrible ferocity.

“It’s now or never!” Joe thought and brought the butt of his rifle down with all his strength on the dog’s head.

There was a cry of pain, and the next moment the beast rolled over in a dazed condition. At last the terrible enemies had been overcome.

“Great work, Joe!” praised Mr. Holton. “We weren’t expecting to see you act so quickly.”

“I didn’t know whether I could hit him at the right time or not,” the youth said, wiping the perspiration from his brow. “But I thought I’d take a chance. It – ”

He stopped fearfully as a rifle shot rang out. Another report followed the first, and Tishmak fell from his dromedary.

“Back!” cried Dr. Kirshner. “It’s the Arabs shooting from the tents. Hurry or we’ll all be hit!”

Tishmak was rapidly picked up and placed on his camel, and then the explorers retreated behind a formation of rock near the high wall of stone that was to their right.

“You look after Tishmak,” said Mr. Holton to Dr. Kirshner. “Meanwhile we’ll keep these Arabs away. We certainly aroused their tempers when we put those dogs out.”

A volley of shots came from the Arabs’ tents, and the Americans at once answered with their own rifles. Wherever a shot was heard, Mr. Holton directed his friends to fire at the spot.

Suddenly Mr. Lewis caught a glimpse of a large one-armed Arab who emerged into full view to send a bullet at his white enemies. Without hesitation the naturalist fired, bringing the man down with a thud.

“Look!” cried Bob. “They’re backing up. That fellow you shot must have been the leader.”

“Does seem that way,” agreed Mr. Lewis. “But we must remain on guard. These are treacherous characters.”

Only an occasional shot rang out. Then finally there was silence.

“Now we’ll see how Tishmak is,” said Mr. Holton, leaving his position at the end of the rocky crag.

They found that Dr. Kirshner had bound and treated the wound, which was in the left arm. The Arab seemed in high spirits, despite the fact that he was evidently in pain.

“It doesn’t appear serious,” said the archæologist. “With the right kind of attention it will probably be all right in a few days.”

“Lucky that he wasn’t killed, or that more of us weren’t hit,” remarked Mr. Lewis gravely. “The Sahara is a dangerous place for explorers.”

They waited several minutes for any more rifle shots from the Arabs, but none came. Finally Mr. Holton mounted his dromedary.

“Let’s get on our way,” he suggested. “I don’t think there’s any danger now. The Arabs have retreated to a distance beyond their tents, and I believe they’ll stay there awhile.”

Tishmak was helped on his camel. Then, when the others had also mounted, they rode off.

They were now rapidly leaving the region of low sand dunes behind. Rocks of all sizes and shapes became more numerous, and vegetation was more abundant. There were, however, stretches of coarse sand plains, which were now and then dotted with boulders.

Suddenly, as they ascended a long low hill, Bob and Joe cried out in delight and pointed to something a half-mile or so away.

“A lake!” exclaimed Joe happily. “A lake of water!”

CHAPTER XIX
Searching for the Ancient

“NOT a lake,” said Fekmah, shaking his head. “Only another mirage. They are rather common all through this region, and we may see much more short time.”

“Well, if there was a real lake there beside that mirage, I wouldn’t know which to pick,” confessed Joe. “And look! Even waves are there. And foam caps!”

“Wonderful facsimile, all right,” remarked Dr. Kirshner. “Old Nature is capable of playing mighty big jokes on us sometimes.”

For over a half-hour the illusion was visible to the explorers; then, when they rounded a large pile of rocks, it could no longer be seen.

“And I’m glad,” said Bob. “Now maybe I can get my mind away from thinking only of water. It wasn’t very pleasant to see what looked like it and not be able to have it.”

“When do we come to another oasis?” inquired Joe of Fekmah.

“Tishmak say within next fifty miles,” was the response. “It be very small, but there be much water to drink.”

Late that evening they came to the foothills of the Ahaggars. Majestic Mount Oudane was directly before them, and the whole Ahaggar range appeared to be only a few miles away in the clear desert air.

They at last reached the small oasis among the many red boulders. After filling their containers, they continued toward the mountains, greatly refreshed and ready for action. But darkness was rapidly falling, and it would be necessary to stop before long for the night.

Tishmak, however, thought it best to travel in the moonlight. The others were more than willing to do this, for now that they were so near their goal they hesitated to lose any precious time.

“We can go on for a while,” said Mr. Lewis, as daylight rapidly faded. “Then we’ll turn in and get a few hours of sleep.”

Soon it became dark, making it necessary to stop. But before long the moon came out in full splendor, flooding the rocky vastness with enchanting light. The distant needle-like peaks took on a strange appearance, like mysterious towers of a fairyland.

The scene was unusual and slightly weird, resembling the rough surface of the moon. For some time the Americans were silent, absorbed in thought. Finally Bob roused himself.

“Those mountains seem rather intangible, or ghost-like,” he remarked, as he and Joe rode at the rear of the caravan.

Joe nodded.

“It’s like we’re the characters of an Arabian Nights story,” he muttered. “No vegetation, no life of any kind around anywhere. Gets under my skin a little.”

Through the early part of the night they rode ever on, on toward the mysterious Ahaggars. One question stood out in the minds of all. What did the future hold in store?

Finally Tishmak brought his dromedary to a halt beside a huge boulder. He motioned for the others to follow suit.

“We’ll stop here for the night,” announced Fekmah, after conversing with the guide. “But we must be up very early in morning and get on way to mountains.”

That night everyone slept soundly, anxious to refresh themselves thoroughly for the tiresome march through the Ahaggars.

“Let’s go,” urged Joe, as he dressed the next morning at dawn. “We can’t get to those hidden riches any too soon for me.”

Mr. Holton laughed unwillingly.

“Who ever heard of fast traveling in the mountains?” he asked. “If we make ten or fifteen miles in a day we’ll be lucky.”

“There are stretches of smooth country, though,” Dr. Kirshner put in. “And when we get to the central plateau of the Ahaggars, it won’t be so hard to cover territory.”

A breakfast of limited food but a bountiful supply of water was prepared by Mr. Lewis, and then camp was broken.

In the early-morning light the peaks ahead looked pale purple, but, said Fekmah, this color would gradually change to mauve and blue as the sunlight became more radiant.

As they rounded a tall, red boulder, Tishmak suddenly halted his camel and pointed to a little crevice between the rocks.

“Well, as I live!” murmured the archæologist in surprise. “Camels – dead, mummified camels.”

The beasts had evidently been dead a long time, for their skins were extremely dry and cracked. The fierce desert sun had preserved their bodies for an indefinite period.

“And look, they’ve got their mouths down to the ground, as if they were searching for water,” observed Joe.

“They were,” affirmed Fekmah. “There once a well here, but it dried up just before camels got to it.”

“Perhaps they wandered for days searching for it, and then finally found it – dry.” Bob shuddered.

It was a pitiable sight, particularly to the Americans. They half expected to come across the mummified body of some unfortunate explorer who had died a tragic death from thirst.

“We must be doubly careful to have the containers filled with water,” warned Mr. Holton. “This is a dangerous region, and disaster could easily come upon our little expedition.”

They trudged on in the rapidly rising temperature of the terrible sun, keeping their eyes off the ground as much as possible to escape the glare. They could easily have worn sun glasses, but hesitated to do so because of the rather obstructed vision.

“What’s this!” cried Dr. Kirshner, as they came to a huge rock that was directly in their path.

“Some kind of an inscription, isn’t it?” inquired Bob.

“It is that!” came the excited reply. “An ancient Libyan record, perhaps of a noteworthy event that took place in this vicinity. If you will give me a few minutes I’ll copy this down. It may prove of great interest in my future study of early Sahara peoples.”

The others waited for the archæologist to transcribe the writing. It proved very difficult to read offhand, but that a full translation would eventually come to light was not in the least doubted by the other Americans. In fact they had come to regard Dr. Kirshner as a wonder among men of his profession.

At last he put the paper back in its place and made a sign to Tishmak that he was ready to continue the journey.

“Now let’s make time,” said Bob anxiously. “We ought to get over a good many more miles before time for the noon rest.”

And they did. The country had not yet become rough enough to hinder the progress of the dromedaries, even though huge boulders were strewn about. By ten o’clock they had reached the base of the Plateau of the Mouydir, a thousand-foot-high wall of solid stone.

“Tuaregs have many superstitious legends about this rock,” said Fekmah, after talking several minutes with Tishmak. “They believe evil spirits up in great caves come down and kill travelers. They too think sandstorms and whirlwinds are caused by spirits hiding up in large cracks there.”

“How interesting,” said Dr. Kirshner, getting out his small portable typewriter.

Bob and Joe had taken motion pictures along the journey, and now they saw another opportunity to film a scenic wonder.

“I’d like for you to do a little acting,” said Bob to Fekmah, as the youth turned his camera in the direction of the mammoth wall of rock.

The Arab looked up in some surprise.

“I want you to point to the Plateau of Mouydir and talk to Dr. Kirshner,” the young man explained. “Tell him about the legend of the Tuaregs. Meanwhile I’ll be photographing you. Too bad this can’t be a talking picture. All right. Let’s go.”

Fekmah understood and smiled. Dr. Kirshner was also willing to assist the young photographers in their work.

The Arab and the American engaged in conversation, while Bob took movies of them pointing to the high rock. When it was finished, Bob and Joe smiled in satisfaction.

“That’s the kind of scenes we ought to have more of,” Joe said. “They’re different from the usual monotony of ‘shooting’ the country alone.”

“Gives a sort of individuality, huh?” laughed Mr. Holton. “Well, any time we can be of use to you, let us know.”

Camp was made at the very base of the huge rock. Then the usual meal was prepared.

“Use water sparingly,” cautioned Mr. Lewis, as they sat down on the cool sand in the shade of the tent. “Tishmak says we will not come to another well till tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’s a long time to wait,” said Dr. Kirshner gravely. “Can we make what we have hold out?”

“We’ve got to,” Joe’s father returned. “We’ll have to restrain from taking any undue exercise in the heat of the sun.”

“Hum-m!” Dr. Kirshner looked disappointed. “That seems to want to spoil my plans for this afternoon.”

“How’s that?”

“I had intended to do a little exploring up on top of that wall of stone.”

There were exclamations of surprise and anxiety.

“What!” cried Mr. Lewis. “Why, you couldn’t scale that steep cliff with ladders and ropes!”

“Maybe not in some places,” the archæologist smiled. “But I have noticed that there are large fissures that would offer footholds with comparative ease, and I’m going to chance it. There’s no telling what I may bring to light from up on that lofty rock.”

There was a period of silence, finally broken by Bob.

“May Joe and I go with you?” he asked.

There were loud protests from the youths’ fathers, who thought it almost madness to attempt to climb the steep slope. But Dr. Kirshner held up a hand for silence.

“Wait till we finish this meal and I’ll show you a place where it will be more or less easy to get to the top,” he said.

“If it’s there, I’d like to see it,” came from Mr. Holton.

When the noon meal was over, the archæologist led them to a point perhaps a quarter of a mile from the camp. He pointed up and smiled.

“Doesn’t that look like an easy climb?” he asked. “Plenty of safe footholds and cracks to grasp. I’m going up.”

Bob and Joe put in a request to their fathers to accompany the scientist and were finally given permission.

“But be careful,” warned Mr. Lewis. “And don’t wander too far away.”

Dr. Kirshner led the way up the side of the cliff, followed by Joe and Bob. The climb was in some places difficult and a little dangerous, but they plodded surely up.

At last, panting and perspiring, they came to the last foothold and pulled themselves up to the top. Then they turned to take in the view below.

Cries of astonishment came from all at the wonderful panorama that stretched out before them. Hundreds of feet down and to their right was the camp, and a short distance away were Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis. The dromedaries were tethered beside a large rock near the cliff.

“I suppose Fekmah and Tishmak are in the tent,” remarked the scientist, scanning the landscape.

With the aid of his powerful binoculars the camp was made to appear quite near, and the features of the naturalists were easily made out.

At last Dr. Kirshner turned about.

“A fine view,” he said. “But let us not spend too much time here. I want to explore the roof of this cliff.”

The rocky surface was in most places flat, but there were a few huge fissures that apparently extended far into the rock.

They had come to one unusually deep crack when Dr. Kirshner stopped and slid down the steep side, desirous of seeing the unusual.

He reached the bottom some fifteen feet below, sending a score of small rocks down the side of the crevice.

“What’s there?” Joe called down, bending over the side.

“Nothing, I guess. There is – Wait a minute!”

The next moment he was all excitement, having evidently come across something on the side of the rock.

“Drawings!” he cried animatedly, pointing to the wall about him. “Prehistoric drawings of – of elephants!”