The old man made us take up positions on the crest on either side of the gap, myself, himself, Jaffa, and Griffiths on one side, the three marines on the other; and was just going to give the signal to the men below to commence their drive—a leopard drive, mind you; think of it, and think how happy and excited we were—when, turning to look down the far side, his face became a muddy-yellow colour—just as Mr. Scarlett’s often did. All the life seemed to die out of it, and he gasped out: "Bedouin!" We all turned, and through my glasses I saw what at first looked like some huge snake winding up the valley towards us. Then I saw that it was an apparently endless caravan of heavily-laden camels, wearily trailing one after the other. Among them were many horsemen—a hundred or more, although it was impossible to count them. Then I knew why the _Intrepid_ had turned up so unexpectedly. These were the very fellows we had been hunting for, bringing their rifles from Jeb to hide them in the village at our feet, until dhows could be sent to take them away. And they must pass through this gap, on either side of which we were lying, in order to get there. Some wretched brute must have taken the news to Muscat, and given away the scheme (there were always plenty of these fellows mean enough to sell their own fathers for a few rupees). The old head-man, half-paralysed with fear, was worming himself down into the gap. I clutched him. "Ask him how long before they reach here!" I told Jaffa. The old chap could hardly speak, he was so frightened. "In two hours!" Jaffa told me. My brain was hot with the fluster of wondering what I ought to do. Webster, the corporal of marines, came scrambling down across the gap and up to me, his eyes gleaming. He was bursting to suggest something. "Out with it!" I said. "Beg pardon, sir, but the five of us could hold this here gap against a whole regiment, and we’d drive these chaps off like winking. They can’t outflank us, they must come along in single file. It would be grand if we could stop ’em." I could see that for myself; but at the first shot back would go the whole caravan, and if those camels were laden with rifles and ammunition not one should we capture. A better plan rushed through my head—to let them get through and then prevent them getting back! I would send the head-man to tell Commander Duckworth. He would come along with every man he could land, and do the whole business whilst we stopped their retreat. It would be the grandest haul that had ever been made. Instead of the villagers driving leopards up to us, the _Intrepid_ should drive these Bedouins and their camels; instead of getting a few mangled leopard skins, we would bag the whole caravan and its rifles. I told Webster. He grinned with delight. "How many rounds of ammunition have we?" I asked. We had nearly six hundred between us; that was enough.