Every now and again a bursting shell, falling wide of the Arabs, would urge them to increase their pace, for the sons of the desert had a deep respect for shrapnel; but at length, drawing beyond range, the fierce warriors lost their sense of fear, and began to beat their drums with renewed vigour, while taunts and threats--fortunately unintelligible to the lads--were hurled at the captives. At length the party reached a fairly extensive clearing in the oasis, where quite a hundred black tents were erected, and camels sheep, and goats were browsing on the short grass. Veiled women and scantily-clad children, raising a shout of welcome, ran to meet the returning warriors, carrying with them pitchers of water and kayoubs of dried dates and flour for their friends and relations. Quickly the news spread. The Arabs will never acknowledge defeat to their friends: the unbelievers had been routed and slain, or driven into the sea. Not a Kafir remained betwixt the oasis and the great salt waters, save these three who had been brought in as a proof of the victory of the true followers of the Prophet. But the party could not conceal the fact that their losses had been heavy, and so to the shouts of joy were added the loud wailing and lamentation of the wives and kinsfolk of those who had fallen. Yet, in spite of the great victory that the Arabs had claimed, the Sheikh Wadherim frequently directed his eyes towards the north, and kept his ears on the alert for the sound of approaching musketry. His camels, cattle, and sheep were gathered together; his goods and chattels were packed in bundles; his tents were ready to be struck at an instant's notice should occasion arise. At sunrise to-morrow, in any case, the long march across the desert to Wadi Tlat would begin, for the fierce Arab chieftain had fought--that being the main reason why he had obeyed the loose Turkish authority, and had led his tribe across the six hundred miles of desert. Now, having tasted of the joys of battle, and paid dearly for it, there was nothing to prevent him from returning to his desert haunts, where there was no fear of aggression from the hated unbelievers. Still bound, Reeves and the two lads were placed in the centre of the encampment, with nothing to shelter them from the pitiless sun. Behind them, with a business-like, broad-bladed spear held across his shoulders, stood a tall, sinewy Arab. "What will they do with us, Mr. Reeves?" asked Hugh, speaking with an effort, and then only after he had rolled his swollen tongue over his parched lips. "Can't say. Hold us to ransom, most likely." "It is hot, this sun," said Gerald. "Tear my shirt sleeve off; it's nearly in rags already." "Why?" asked young Kirby wonderingly. "Never mind why. For one reason, I can't tear it myself."