As the Sheik Kadra sprang into his saddle and drew his sword there was a
wild whoop and a clatter of waving spears, while the one-ended war-drums
burst into a dull crash like a wave upon shingle. For a moment 10,000
men were up on the rocks with brandished arms and leaping figures; the
next they were under cover again, waiting sternly and silently for their
chieftain's orders. The square was less than half a mile from the ridge
now, and shell after shell from the 7 lb. guns were pitching over it.
A deep roar on the right, and then a second one showed that the Egyptian
Krupps were in action. Sheik Kadra's hawk eyes saw that the shells
burst far beyond the mark, and he spurred his horse along to where a
knot of mounted chiefs were gathered round the two guns, which were
served by their captured crews.
"How is this, Ben Ali?" he cried. "It was not thus that the dogs fired
when it was their own brothers in faith at whom they aimed!"
A chieftain reined his horse back, and thrust a blood-smeared sword into
its sheath. Beside him two Egyptian artillerymen with their throats cut
were sobbing out their lives upon the ground. "Who lays the gun this
time?" asked the fierce chief, glaring at the frightened gunners."
Here, thou black-browed child of Shaitan, aim, and aim for thy life.
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