to retire slowly, halting to return the fire at intervals; and they did
it pretty fairly, though not quite so steadily as could be wished. And
when they were down on the level plain, a couple of them showed a
decided inclination to try the mettle of their steeds in a race in the
direction of the column, but Harry managed to stop them; and,
withdrawing a little, the party dismounted, and fired a few ineffective
shots at the Arabs, who were mounted, and came down towards them.

There were but eight in the party, and Harry could see no more behind
them, so he concluded that it was clearly his duty to skirt the hill and
see what was on the other side. Besides, seven to eight was not such
prodigious odds as to justify bolting without a bit of a fight, he
thought.

So he got his men together, and, drawing his sword, told them he meant
to charge the moment the Arabs were at the bottom of the hill, so as to
overthrow them by the impetus before they could get any pace on, and
trotting quietly on with this object, he got within thirty paces, and
then, cramming his spurs in, went at them as they got clear of the
declivity. And he showed good judgment, in spite of his inexperience;
for he bowled one enemy over with the force of the shock, and a Bashi-
Bazook on his right served another the same, and got a slice at him as
he rolled over, which made the number of combatants level.

But, unfortunately, the other Bashi-Bazooks did not charge home, but
swerved, wheeled, withdrew a little, and began firing wildly. Harry was
engaged in single combat with another Arab, who could have given him any
number of points in sword-play, and presently made a drawing cut at him
which would infallibly have taken off his head, had not his horse at
that very quarter of a second suddenly fallen, shot dead by one of his
own men.

Seeing their officer down, the Bashi-Bazooks fairly turned and galloped
as hard as they could go, the Arabs who were otherwise disengaged racing
after them--five pursuing six; for the man who had been ridden down had
got a broken thigh, the second was killed, and the third was now
dismounting in order to polish off Harry comfortably as he lay on the
ground.

But our friend, though he was pinned down by the body of his horse,
which lay on his left leg, was not hurt, and his right arm was free. He
drew his revolver, and when the Arab stood over him he shot him in the
breast. The man fell--but not dead--across Harry, wit