"It is well," muttered Sikaso, "we shall need every man who can hold
a rifle to-night but the professor is old, my brothers, and his
heart is as a woman's."

"Well, he'll have to fight," said Billy with bloodthirsty determination.
"I for one am not going to stand calmly by and have my throat cut, or
worse still be taken prisoner by this old Muley-Hassan."

Old Sikaso glanced approvingly at him.

"Well spoken, Four-eyes," said he; "spoken like a son of a warrior."

Billy's ears tingled at the compliment, which was really in the old
African's opinion the highest that could be paid to a man or a boy,
and hurried off to wake "the bugologist" as be disrespectfully
termed the professor. To his surprise, for he more than half
expected an outbreak, Professor Wiseman did not appear particularly
concerned at the news that Diego, and Muley-Hassan were--as the boys
had every reason to believe--at that moment advancing on the camp.

"I will dress myself with all alacrity," he said, "and join you in
your tent, but I must say I don't believe in all this witchcraft."

"Will this Muley-Hassan be well armed?" asked Billy, in a voice
which was rather shaky, of their black friend.

"Plenty rifles," was Sikaso's brief reply.

"Don't you want a rifle or at least a heavy caliber shotgun?" asked
Billy.