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"Look," said d.i.c.k. "It's not a fight. The Arabs are rounding up those fellows. They came here for slaves, and now they have got some."
"Serves Cimbula right! I hope they keep him at hard labor for life!"
"I'm sorry for the others though.--Listen. There goes the first signal!"
From the south came the call of a desert hyena, a long unearthly sound of laughter.
Amid the hubbub of the Arab camp, the signal was not noticed by the enemy, but Raal was evidently on the alert, for soon a long wolf howl answered from the north.
"Good!" cried d.i.c.k Oakwood. "Cimbula's little show did not spoil the big circus, after all. Now Dan, you're going to see a fight."
To the south of the camp a torch flared among the brush. Another was lighted and another. Soon the place where the Gorols had a.s.sembled was a confusion of dancing lights, flaring and smoking.
A war cry arose among the flames, a shrill cry of "Tahara, Rax!"
"Give 'em the axe!" chuckled Dan. "Atta-boy, Kulki! Now the fun begins."
A few shots from the Arabs produced an immediate effect among the torches. They no longer moved, but held their places quietly.
"Get that?" muttered d.i.c.k. "Kulki's men stuck their torches in the ground. Now they must be climbing up the cliffs in the dark."
As the Arab hors.e.m.e.n charged the brush where the torches flamed they were met by a stinging shower of arrows coming from unseen foes. At once their cries of "Allah, il Allah," were changed to howls of anger and shrieks from the wounded. Yet they charged on, shooting at the torches and driving ahead with flas.h.i.+ng scimiters.
But the Gorols were not near the torches and shot more and more arrows from places of safety.
"Give 'em the axe!" cried Dan. "Here come the Taharans!"
As he spoke, Raal's men raced in open formation upon the disorganized Arabs, only pausing long enough to discharge a flight of arrows at the enemy.
Now the Arabs, caught between two attacking troops, were at a loss which way to face.
d.i.c.k, with Dan at his heels, scrambled down from the ledge of the cliff side and joined the Taharans with the war cry:
"Tahara Rax!"
"Give 'em the axe!" echoed Dan.
"The axe!"
"The axe, the axe!"
The terrifying shouts of the Taharans, charging upon the Arabs, drowned out the battle cry of, "Allah il Allah."
Hand to hand the Stone-Age men struggled fiercely with the Bedouins, leaping at them like wild cats, pulling them from their mounts, swinging their keen-edged hatchets of flint and their short knives of stone with deadly effect.
All the advantage of gunpowder and horses was lost in that battle in the dark.
The Arabs fought madly with their swords and daggers, but such weapons were not much more effective than the stone knives and axes. Therefore the Arabs began to give away, for their raid had been upon supposedly weak tribesmen, and instead they were facing better fighters than themselves.
Yet stubbornly they fought on. There was nothing else to do--a case of kill or be killed.
"Give it to 'em!" cried d.i.c.k.
"Give 'em the axe," shouted Dan.
"Let out your bull-roaring voice," said d.i.c.k to Raal. "Call the Gorols to join in!"
Raal gave a war cry that summoned Kulki and his Gorols to clamber down from the rocks and take part in the battle.
From the ledges of the cliff came the shrill reply of Kulki's dark-skinned fighters, and instantly the Arabs were engaged in a life-and-death struggle with new forces.
The Gorols plunged into the fray, carrying their lances, and whenever the burnous of an Arab showed pale in the darkness, a Gorol plunged his spearhead with telling effect.
"Go it, Gorols!" shouted Dan.
"Give 'em the axe!" d.i.c.k cried. "After them, boys! They're giving way."
The tide of battle had turned against the raiders. The Arabs on the fringe of the fray turned their horses toward the desert and galloped away. The Bedouins who were guarding the prisoners mounted them on the camels and fled in a body. Abdul and Suli swore by Allah and his prophet that they would return and take vengeance on the tribe, but they saw that the battle was lost.
Many of their men had been slain or badly wounded, and their horses were running wild in the melee; there was no chance to organize their force, for wherever they turned were the hatchets of the Taharans and the spears of the Gorols.
"Give it to 'em!" shouted d.i.c.k. "We've got 'em on the run."
"Back to home-sweet-home!" laughed Dan. "They want you back in dear old Araby."
Abdul shouted the signal to retreat. Those Arabs who could escape did so without a second command and the battle was over.
d.i.c.k and Dan both caught at the bridles of Arab horses and succeeded in capturing mounts, but there was no use in giving chase in the dark.
"Tell your men to get all the guns and weapons they can," d.i.c.k ordered the chiefs of the two tribes. "And catch all the horses you can."
"We hear, O Master!"
"Tahara has brought us victory. Praise to our king!"
The chiefs answered with shouts of triumph and the tribesmen joined in.
No longer was there any doubt in their minds, Tahara, Boy King of the Desert, was a mighty warrior and a bringer of victory.
The rising sun showed Taharans and Gorols in fantastic array beside the Big Spring. They were dressed in such parts of the Arab garb as they had captured, and carried what weapons had been found on the battlefield.
A dozen guns and horses were among the loot, also ammunition, daggers and swords. Even a camel had been taken, but it was lame from a shot, and was promptly butchered for a feast.
While they were all enjoying a hot meal that morning, d.i.c.k explained to the natives who had captured the guns, how to use them, but the old-fas.h.i.+oned fire-arms were not of much value except to the Arabs who were used to them.
After breakfast, he showed the most intelligent of the tribesmen how to ride the captured horses. They were fearless fellows and managed to stay on, somehow, and Kulki, who was one of the best men of the tribe, showed promise of becoming an expert horseman in short order.
"Wait until we round up the wild horses and break them!" said Dan.