Billy, with a quick inspiration, seized the dead man's long rifle
and his ammunition pouch and, followed by the bewildered Lathrop,
plowed desperately forward into the screen of the jungle.

Behind them they heard cries for mercy and fierce shouts from the
attacking savages. At first the cries and imprecations of the
slave-traders predominated and then, by the altered sounds that came
from the scene of the fighting and the crashing of the Arabs'
volleys, the boys realized that the tide of battle had changed and
that the Arabs were driving back the attacking force.

"What do you suppose happened, Billy?" asked Lathrop, only half
awake, as the boys, with the fleetness and endurance that desperate
need lends, plunged deeper and deeper into the forest.

"Why, that some cannibal tribe that Muley-Hassan pillaged for slaves
at some time has trailed him and attacked him," hazarded the
reporter.

How near he came to the truth our readers know. The band that had
made the midnight attack was the same that had painstakingly trailed
Muley-Hassan since he destroyed the boys' camp on the river bank.

"But the Arabs have beaten them off?" queried Lathrop.

"Evidently," replied Billy, as the volleys died out and victorious
Arab shouts were beard. "Hark at that! It's really too bad. I'd
like to have seen old Muley and his precious band driven into the
river. But if they have driven off the savages they'll be thinking
about chasing us."