All the old confidence with which Barry had walked through this place of the dead now deserted him. He recognized that he was afraid--and was ashamed of the recognition. But he retraced his steps swiftly, never pausing or glancing back until he had regained the main path. Then, from behind him, far behind him, came a sound.… Someone or something was climbing up from the bowl of the little valley! In the profound silence of that place the noise was clearly audible. A jackal was out of the question; for no four-footed creature is more silent than a jackal in its comings and goings. He stood still, listening intently. Footsteps!--unmistakably those of a man and not of any four-footed beast! Immediately facing him where he stood was an irregular mound of rock and sand, outlined on the right by the silver of the moon, but a place of ebony shadows on the left. He crossed into the shadow and waited. Nearer and nearer came the approaching footsteps. Whoever was coming up from the valley of the ruined huts was about to enter that narrow gully through which Barry had walked! Half a dozen reasonable explanations presented themselves, but his mind rejected them one after another. Eeriness touched him with a cold finger. He watched the vague slash in a wall of darkness, which, from his present position, represented the entrance to the gully. Now, the one who approached was coming along it. In another moment he would be out. Three more paces must bring him into the light. Barry’s heart was beating rapidly. He was afraid--and did not know of _what_ he was afraid. And now he realized that the one who walked had cleared the gap, although he could not yet see any movement in the shadow. A second--two seconds--three seconds elapsed… and a man came out into the moonlight. It was Danbazzar! CHAPTER XV. THE HAWWARA Automatically Danbazzar’s hand dropped to his hip, the first intimation Barry had of the fact that he carried arms; then: “All right!” cried Barry, and stepped out of the shadow, conscious of an almost ridiculous sense of relief. But, for a moment, Danbazzar did not move. “What are you doing here!” he demanded--for it was less a question than a demand. Barry experienced a momentary vague resentment. “If it comes to that,” he replied, “what are _you_ doing here?” Danbazzar smiled and came forward, shrugging his broad shoulders and dismissing the matter with a slow, graceful wave of his hand. “I believe,” said he, “that we have both got the ‘jumps.’ _I_ am here because my donkey boy refused to come beyond the end of the valley at this time of night. And as we have no accommodation for a donkey, I let him return to Kurna. As a matter of fact, I helped him start!” “I see,” said Barry, meeting the fixed stare of those strange eyes. “For my part, I was taking a walk because I couldn’t sleep. But weren’t you prowling about in the hollow down yonder?”