s skin crawl, felt his
blood thrill, with stirrings of old romance at sight of this strange,
exalting spectacle!

In the van, an ancient horseman with bright colors in his robe was
riding hardest of all, erect in his high-horned saddle, reins held
loose in a master-hand, gold-mounted rifle with enormously long barrel
flourished on high.

Tall old chief and slim white horse of purest barb breed seemed almost
one creature. Instinctively the Master's service-cap came off, at
sight of him. The lieutenant's did the same. Both men stepped forward,
cap over heart. These two, if no others, understood the soul of
Arabia.

Suddenly the old Sheik uttered a cry. An instant change came over the
rushing horde. With one final volley, silence fell. The kettle-drums
ceased their booming. Every rider leaned far back in his pearl-inlaid,
jewel-crusted saddle, reining in his horse.

And in a moment, as innumerable unshod hoofs dug the heavy turf, all
that thundering host--which but a second before had seemed inevitably
bound to trample down the Legion under a hurricane of white-lathered
horses and frenzied, long-robed men--came to a dead halt of silence
and immobility.

It was as if some magician's wand, touching the crest of an inbreaking
storm-wave, had instantaneously frozen it, white-slavering foam and
all, to motionless rigidity.

Ahead of all, standing erect and proud in his arabesque stirrups, with
the green banner floating overhead, the chief of this whole marvelous
band was stretching out the hand of salaam.

"_Fire_!" cried the Master.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

BARA MIYAN, HIGH PRIEST

The crash of six machine-guns clattered into a chattering tumult,
muzzles pointed high over the heads of the Jannati Shahr men. Up into
the still, hot air jetted vicious spurts of flame.

The Legion's answer lasted but a minute. As the trays of blanks became
empty, the tumult ceased.

Silence fell, strangely heavy after all that uproar. This silence
lengthened impressively, with the massed horsemen on one side, the
Legionaries on the other. Between them stretched a clear green space
of turf. Behind loomed the vast bulk of _Nissr_, scarred, battle-worn,
but powerful. Away in the distance, the glinting golden walls
shimmered across the plain; and over all the Arabian sun glowed down
as if a-wonder at this scene surpassing strange.

Forward stepped the Master, with a word to Leclair to follow him but
to stand a little in the rear. T