The Black Dog stopped. His small white figure seemed to be crouching.
Harry, with the aid of his field-gla.s.ses, tried to make out what the man was doing.
At that moment there came a quick, hissing sound within a fraction of an inch of the boy"s ear, and a bullet buried itself deep in the ground not fifteen yards away.
Without a doubt, the sheikh now realized to the full the danger in which he stood. He saw that he was rapidly being cut off from all means of escape. There was nothing that could save him but his surety of aim, and at that distance it was no easy matter to hit a mark several hundred feet below him.
When a rifle is fired downward from a great height, what is known as the "trajectory", or flight, of the bullet is affected, and in consequence the line of sight is not wholly accurate. This may have been sufficient to account for the failure of the Arab"s shot; but in any case, to put a bullet within an inch of the target at so great a range proved him a marksman of the greatest skill.
When he saw that he had missed he hurried on his way, hoping against hope to reach the spur in advance of Harry Urquhart.
The boy was determined that the fugitive should not escape. He cared little or nothing for the life of Bayram, but at all costs he meant, if possible, to recover the Sunstone. He was never able to forget that, all this time, von Hardenberg was shut up alive in the silent vault, in the very heart of the mountain.
Running as if his life depended on his efforts, he dashed down the valley. Three times the Black Dog fired, and each time the bullet flew within a hand"s-breadth of its mark.
On gaining the spur, Harry clambered to the southern side, where he was out of sight of the fugitive, who was now too far away to fire. Slinging his rifle across his shoulder, hand over hand the boy climbed up the rocks, and at last gained the pathway which formed a little ledge, or terrace, upon the face of the great abyss.
He walked forward stealthily. On his right hand a rock arose, inaccessible and smooth as a plate of steel, whilst on the left it dropped sheer into the shadowy depths of the valley from which he had come. Far below him, the stream that he had followed looked like a little silver thread glittering in the sunlight.
He knew that he must find some kind of cover. If he came face to face with Black Dog on that narrow path he would have little chance of living. A rifle in the sheikh"s hands, at a point-blank range, was more an implement of execution than a weapon of defence; and, besides, the Black Dog was known to be a man of prodigious strength.
As the boy went upon his way he looked forward eagerly, hoping to find some rock or boulder behind which he could hide and await the approach of the Arab. But the path was bare, not only of vegetation, but of stones and fragments of rock. It was as if some mighty hurricane had swept the mountain-side, brushing all obstacles from the narrow ledge, sweeping the place as clean as the pavement of a street.
Presently the path turned a sharp angle. The cliff stood folded back in the shape of the letter W. From the corner, Harry was able to see, not only the other extremity of the W, but also the smaller salient which formed the centre of the letter. It was then that the complete success of their enterprise was made apparent.
At the corner of the southern extremity was Harry, and at the northern stood the guide, his rifle in his hand. Between them the face of the precipice was folded back in two re-entrant angles. Everywhere the abyss was smooth and perpendicular, both above and below the pathway. It was possible to climb neither up nor down. Escape was beyond all question. And midway between Harry Urquhart and the half-caste guide, standing upright at the central angle, was Sheikh Bayram, the Black Dog of the Cameroons, like a great bird of prey perched above its eyrie.
Whatever the issue of this business was to be, it was certain that for the present the fugitive was caught.
Neither was it possible for him to conceal himself. If he turned back, he was exposed to fire from the guide; if he went forward, he was covered by the rifle of Harry.
He stood motionless for some seconds, as if deliberating in his mind what was best to do. Then, with a slow and measured step, he walked towards the boy.
Harry waited till the man had come within twenty yards of him; then he raised his rifle to his shoulder and directed the sights full upon the Arab"s heart. To his amazement, the Black Dog stood stock-still.
Harry was about to press the trigger when, for two reasons, he desisted.
Firstly, the thing smacked of a cold-blooded murder, since the sheikh had made no show of resistance; secondly, if he fired and killed the man, his lifeless body would pitch headlong into the abyss. In that case they might not be able to recover it, and thus the Sunstone would be lost.
Suddenly the sheikh raised his rifle above his head, and cried aloud to the boy in English.
"Fire," said he, "and kill me! I am at your mercy; my life is in your hands. See here, this rifle--it has served me well for twenty years. It is known from Lagos to Port Stanley, even as far south as the Kasai.
Behold, there goes my best and truest friend."
At that he cast the weapon to the depths below.
"You surrender?" cried Harry, coming forward.
"I can do nothing else," replied the sheikh. "As you ran in the valley I fired my last cartridge. Still, I am not yours so long as I am alive."
With these last words, he turned sharply and looked behind him, as if he had heard something. There, sure enough, was Fernando, crawling on hands and knees, his head and shoulders just appearing around the central angle.
CHAPTER x.x.xIII--On the Brink of Eternity
The Black Dog folded his arms, threw back his head, and laughed.
The guide came wriggling like a snake, working himself forward upon his elbows and his knees, almost flat upon his face, which was little raised above the ground. His dark features were expressionless. Upon his countenance was visible no sign of triumph, no elation at a victory that was well within his grasp. As he came nearer and nearer his dark eyes never moved from the stern face of the Arab sheikh.
Then slowly he rose to his feet, bringing the b.u.t.t of his rifle into the hollow of his shoulder.
"Bayram," said he in a deep voice, "make your peace with the Almighty G.o.d, for you are about to die!"
The Arab extended his arms in the direction of the east. Beyond the mountains, on the far horizon, the sun was setting in a glow of crimson glory. The great hills stood forth before the sunset like the thrones of giants, their irregular, rugged outline a deep leaden colour where they were not wrapped in gathering clouds.
The Black Dog lifted his voice so that it carried far across the valley.
"Without repentance," said he, "I go into the shades. I have sometimes acted unwisely, for human flesh is weak, and man cannot have the wisdom of Allah, whose prophet is Mohammed. But for such false steps as I have taken I am ready to pay the price. Come, fire, and have done with it!
I do not fear to die."
There was no question that Fernando was about to fire, when Harry cried out in the nick of time.
"The Sunstone!" he exclaimed.
The sheikh turned to the boy and smiled, his white teeth showing in his beard. Then he thrust a hand into a pocket and drew forth the Sunstone, which he held to the light, so that the yellow jade caught the reflection of the dying sun and looked like the most magnificent of opals.
"Here it is," said he. And then to the guide: "Will you take this in exchange for a human life? I am ready to strike a bargain."
Fernando shook his head.
"Do as he bids you," pleaded Harry, who was not only anxious to recover the Sunstone at every cost, but who had no liking for this business, which was in the nature of a common execution.
"I have sworn an oath," said the guide in measured tones. "The Black Dog must die."
With these words he approached, until he was quite near to the Arab. It was no doubt his intention to shoot the man and then grasp his robes to prevent his lifeless body from falling over the cliff. Be that as it may, he failed in his enterprise, for the sheikh was possessed of the supple activity of a tiger as well as the cunning of a wolf.
Fernando raised his rifle. He was then not ten feet from the Arab. And even as he pressed the trigger the Black Dog sprang upon him, striking the barrel of the rifle upward, so that the shot flew high in the air.
A second later the two men were locked together in a death-grip, each struggling desperately for life.
The sheikh was the stronger of the two, but he suffered from his wound.
Not only was he somewhat weakened by loss of blood, but his right leg, the flesh of which had been torn by the leopard"s fangs, was stiff and aching from the great fatigue of the journey across the mountains.
Harry put down his rifle and came forward in all haste, his revolver in his hand. He desired to give what help he could to the guide, but this was no easy matter.
The two men were like fighting cats. First one was on the top and then the other. They rolled over and over so rapidly, and were so closely interlocked, that it was almost impossible to tell which was the guide and which the sheikh. Sometimes they struggled at the foot of the cliff; at others they were on the very edge of the precipice, and both seemed in imminent danger of falling into the depths.
"Help!" let out Fernando in the voice of one who choked. "He fights like a demon possessed!"