The two watched the airship drawing nearer. For a moment Abdul wondered whether it would come into any danger from the rifles of the Moors either below or on the hilltop above. But remembering how clearly everything on the ground could be seen from the car of the airship, he was reassured, guessing that Tom would descry the besiegers in plenty of time to avoid their shots. To gain the hilltop the airship had approached at a considerable altitude, but was now dropping. About half a mile from the cave it suddenly made an upward sweep, and Abdul knew that the enemy had been seen. Before it sailed out of sight over the hill, Abdul plucked off his djellab, and waved it in the mouth of the cave. The signal provoked two or three shots from those of the Moors below whose attention was not engrossed by the machine, which some of them had seen before and of which all had heard most marvellous accounts. Abdul was unhurt, and his signal was answered by a shot from the car of the airship, which then passed out of sight. “Famos! Zey know ve are still alive! Mein Gott! truly mein hunger is colossal.” Tom had in point of fact discovered the enemy at the moment when Abdul noticed the change in the direction of the airship. The discovery was by no means a welcome one. “I didn’t reckon on their hiding-place being found out,” he said to Oliphant. “It makes things rather awkward.” “They must be in a pretty bad state in the cave if the Moors have been here long.” “And we can’t get at them; we daren’t go too near, for at close quarters the Moors would riddle the planes with their shot and very likely smash the engines. And we certainly can’t let the airship down and go for them. The worst of it is, they know pretty well by this time what the airship really is, and we couldn’t throw them into a panic as we did before.” “Confound this German!” said Oliphant. “I shouldn’t mind if we could have a really good scrimmage and some fun for our money, but there’s nothing in it.” “There’s Abdul, you see,” replied Tom. “We’ll have to think it out. They’re in the cave, safe enough, and can evidently hold on there. Let us make for that hill yonder, and think the matter out.” As the airship crossed the hill of the cave, Tom steering for the loftier hill some five miles to the east, a dozen Moors sprang to their saddles and set off in pursuit. But the ground was very rough; they had to follow a tortuous route; and when, a few minutes later, the airship reached the hill, Tom calculated that he had probably half-an-hour to spare before the horsemen would arrive. “We’d better ground, and economize fuel,” he said. “’Pon my word, Oliphant, it seems as if this is going to be as tough a job as it was at the kasbah.”