In about threescore seconds from the time he was first seen pursuing them, the old sheik was up to the spot where our adventurers had awaited him.

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 Patrick! 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 devil take him!" cried Colin, after making his cautious reconnaissance. "If he take us, he must first fight for it. Come on, old skin-flint! you'll find we're true British tars,—ready for a score of 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 all together! Heave ho!"

And uttering this nautical phrase of encouragement, the three mids, with naked dirks, rushed simultaneously towards the maherry.

The Arab, old as he may have been, showed no signs either of stiffness or decrepitude. On the contrary he exhibited all the agility of a tiger-cat; along with a fierce determination to continue the combat he had initiated,—notwithstanding the odds that were against him. On discharging his gun, he had flung the useless weapon to the ground; and instead of it now grasped a long curving scimitar, with which he commenced cutting around him in every direction.

Thus armed, he had the advantage of his assailants; for while he might reach any one of them by a quick cut, they with their short dirks could not come within thrusting-distance of him, without imminent danger of having their arms, or perchance their heads, lopped sheer off their shoulders.

Defensively, too, had the rider of the maherry an advantage over his antagonists. While within distance of them, at the point of his curving blade, seated upon his high perch, he was beyond the reach of their weapons. Get close to him as they might, and spring as high as they were able, they could not bring the tips of their daggers in contact with his skin.

In truth, there seemed no chance for them to inflict the slightest wound upon him; while at each fresh "wheel" of the maherry, and each new sweep of the scimitar, one or other of them was in danger of decapitation!

On first entering upon the fight, our adventurers had not taken into account the impregnable position of their antagonist. Soon, however, did they discover the advantages in his favor, with their own proportionate drawbacks. To neutralize these was the question that now occupied them. If something was not done soon, one or other—perhaps all three—would have to succumb to that keen cutting of the scimitar.

"Let's kill the camel!" cried Harry Blount, "that'll bring him within reach; and then—"

The idea of the English youth was by no means a bad one; and perhaps would have been carried out. But before he could finish his speech, another scheme had been conceived by Terence,—who had already taken steps towards its execution.

It was this that had interrupted Harry Blount in the utterance of his counsel.

At school the young Milesian had been distinguished in the exercise of vaulting. "Leap-frog" had been his especial delight; and no mountebank could bound to a greater height than he. At this crisis he remembered his old accomplishment, and called it to his aid.

Seeking an opportunity,—when the head of the maherry was turned towards his comrades, and its tail to himself,—he made an energetic rush; sprang half a score of feet from the ground; and flinging apart his feet, while in the air, came down "stride legs" upon the croup of the camel.

It was fortunate for the old Arab that the effort thus made by the amateur saltimbanque had shaken the dirk from his grasp,—else, in another instant, the camel would have ceased to "carry double."

As it was, its two riders continued upon its back; but in such close juxtaposition, that it would have required sharp eyes and a good light to tell that more than one individual was mounted upon it.

Fast enfolded in the arms of the vigorous young Hibernian, could scarce be distinguished the carcass of the old Arab sheik,—shrunken to half size by the powerful compression; while the scimitar, so late whistling with perilous impetuosity through the air, was now seen lying upon the sand,—its gleam no longer striking terror into the hearts of those whose heads it had been threatening to lop off!