His first salute appeared to be some words of menace or command, rendered more emphatic by a series of gestures made with his long gun; which was successively pointed at the heads of the three. Of course, none of them understood what was said; but his gesticulations made it clear enough that he required their company to the Arab encampment. Their first impulse was to yield obedience to this command; and Terence had given a sign of assent, which was acquiesced in by Colin. Not so Master Blount, in whom the British bulldog had become aroused even to the showing of his teeth. "See him hanged first!" cried Harry. "What! yield up to an old monkey like that, and walk tamely to the camp at the tail of his camel? No such thing! If I am to become a prisoner, it will be to one who can take me." Terence, rather ashamed at having shown such facile submission, now rushed to the opposite extreme; and drawing his dirk, cried out, "By Saint Petrick! I'm with you, Harry! Let's die, rather than yield ourselves prisoners to such a queer old curmudgeon!" Colin, before declaring himself, glanced sharply around, carrying his eye towards the _embouchure_ of the ravine, to assure himself that the Arab was alone. As there was nobody else in sight, and no sound heard that would indicate the proximity of any one, it was probable enough that the rider of the maherry was the only enemy opposed to them. "The deil take him!" cried Colin, after making his cautious reconnaissance. "If he take us, he must first fight for it. Come on, old skinflint! you'll find we're true British tars, ready for a score such as you!" The three youths had by this time unsheathed their shining daggers, and thrown themselves into a sort of triangle, the maherry in their midst. The old sheik, unprepared for such a reception, was altogether taken aback by it; and for some seconds sate upon his high perch seemingly irresolute how to act. Suddenly his rage appeared to rise to such a pitch that he could no longer command his actions; and bringing the long gun to his shoulder, he levelled it at Harry Blount, who had been foremost in braving him. The stream of smoke, pouring forth from its muzzle, for a moment enveloped the form of the youthful mariner; but from the midst of that sulphury _nimbus_ came forth a clear manly voice, pronouncing the word "Missed!" "Thank God!" cried Terence and Colin, in a breath; "now we have him in our power! He can't load again! Let's on him altogether! Heave he!" And uttering this nautical phrase of encouragement, the three mids, with naked dirks, rushed simultaneously towards the maherry.