sudden cessation in the heavy firing, and I knew this was it. Seizing my trusty Webley in one hand, I rose in my stirrups, one arm aloft to lower and signal the charge. But my mount, feeling my weight shift forward, took this to be the moment and bolted for the top of the hill. I slammed back in my saddle and from my surprised mouth there came a cry that I'm told was a satisfactory blending of the rebel yell of Stuart's Confederate cavalry with the ear- splitting cry of one of Chief Crazy Horse's mounted braves. I think the Arabs were as startled as I was, but they picked up the refrain and we cleared the crest for all the world like a mass of screaming centaurs infected with the madness of whirling dervishes.
My steed held his lead over the rest and we made the top in advance of the main body. I had cocked my weapon, an insane thing to do on horseback, and was bouncing like a rubber ball at every leap of my noble Arabian. As a result I lost both my stirrups and my Webley blasted off into the night, not aimed at anything. I shoved the weapon into my belt again, gripping the pommel of the saddle desperately but to no avail. I was thrown loose from my horse but still clung to the saddle with a grip fused by raw panic. Both feet hit the ground and I bounced with my heels flying upwards and was amazed when they came in contact with two Egyptians who must have been working their way back up the hill.
They were not alone, having two companions who at the moment were being run down by my horse, whose mouth was open and snapping at anything within range. The two I'd hit with my heels went rolling down the hill, and my steed's progress was impeded by the men in his path. Then my feet hit the ground again as my Arabian rose on his hind legs to stamp at those unfortunates before him. Nothing could shake my grip on the saddle since I felt it was my last link with sanity in a world gone mad. My body slid sideways and I was hanging by the pommel with my legs on the steed's vertically inclined rump. Then the Arabian's front legs came down and there was a cry of anguish from those beneath his devastating hooves, but the beast's impact with the ground snapped me forward and of a sudden I was back in the saddle, and my mount and I were plunging down the hillside towards the rear of the rocks that had been the snipers' lair. But there was no answering fire or men to shoot at or run down. Streaming from the rocks and down the incline was a band of turbaned rascals whose hands were raised or who were industriously throwing away their guns as they rushed towards the wall of bayonets that had come forth to intercept them. Casting frenzied looks over their shoulders, they made a dash for the Scottish soldiers as though their only hope of salvation was behind the thin red line.
By this time, lurching in my saddle like an inebriated man, I managed to slow down my mount, and Mahoot was beside me to seize the bridle. He peppered the air with a flow of Arabic liberally interspersed with the only word I could understand, which was 'Allah.'
Then the sheik was by my side.
'A memorable engagement. Your running down those men near the crest rescued us from a potential crossfire, and the enemy has been captured without the loss of a man.'
No doubt I sputtered something, but I imagine it was unintelligible.
'My good Doctor, I read that you served with the Northumberland Fusiliers, but I misunderstood your function with that gallant regiment. I thought you were with the medical corps. An obvious error.'
Before I could explain to the sheik that his original idea had been completely correct, Holmes had raced up towards us and was assisting me from the saddle.
'Dear Watson, I doubt if I shall ever carry firearms again. You outdid yourself as a marksman on this night.' I could only gaze at him dumbly as I fingered portions of my legs in hopes that they were still intact.
'Right after the signal of the jackal's howl, we ceased firing, of course, and then you came over the crest. Their sharpshooter, who had made life hellish for us with his long-range piece of ordinance, suddenly straightened up on the top of the rock that was his lair and looked backwards. Then I heard the bark of your Webley. You caught him right on, Watson, and he went tumbling from his perch. The others of your group were just appearing as you rode down and dispersed the four men who had gone back up the hill, for ammunition, no doubt. It was a chilling sight, with bodies falling right and left before your onslaught, and you were moving so fast you appeared half-man, half-beast.'
Colonel Gray joined us during Holmes's words. 'It was a combination of things that did in those beggars for fair,' he stated, indicating behind him where his troops were securing the thoroughly quailed enemy. 'Half of them are shivering and muttering about Anubis and won't even look back up the hill. After the howl of the jackal and the doctor's appearance, and most unusual it was, they must have seized on the thought that 'twas the jackal god of the dead who was descending upon them. Took all the fight out of them, it did.'
In a weary manner I began to inform the group of their host of misconceptions but was not allowed to. The results were important, and the execution of little interest now. It was Holmes, calm and assured as always, who took charge. The great sleuth had made note of the sheik, and he acknowledged his presence now. 'It has been some time,' he stated laconically.
'Indeed, Mr. Holmes. I trust Allah has smiled on your efforts during the interval.'
'He smiled tonight. Your presence was most opportune.'
'Doctor Watson, to whom I owe much, enlisted the aid of my band and myself.'
My friend's keen eyes rested on me for a moment with surprise fighting a twinkle for supremacy. 'I've said on occasion that you do amaze me, ol' chap, and this is no exception. But now, because of your triumph, fate has indeed lent us a hand, and we'd best move fast to take full advantage of it.'
As the sheik and Colonel Gray regarded him intently, I could see my friend's machinelike mind sorting the pieces and placing them in order for presentation. His gaze centered on the Colonel.
'These Scottish troops, but recently from their homeland, have only a vague idea of where they are, I believe.' As the Colonel nodded, a smile of satisfaction touched Holmes's lips. 'We shall keep it that way. When they return to their regiment and are dispatched to India, the story is that they had a brief skirmish with rebellious tribesmen, which was terminated by the arrival of a friendly band of Arabians. I think that sounds plausible enough.'
The sheik contributed some information. 'The men you have captured, they are from Kurna.' He spat expressively on the rock. 'The place of the grave robbers, which is close by to the south and east.'
'I see,' said Holmes. Then his attention shifted back to Gray. 'Colonel, have your men keep close watch on the prisoners, for we can't have any escape.'
'My men will gladly assist,' said the sheik with a grim smile. 'They have no love for the thieves of Kurna.'
Holmes accepted this. 'Then what is to be seen here shall be viewed by just the four of us,' he said. 'If you can secure torches, Colonel, we have some exploring to do.'
It was shortly thereafter that we left the temporary camp set up by the Sutherland-Argyle and their unusual allies, the sheik's band. At Holmes's request, Colonel Gray, who was familiar with the valley, led us towards the tomb of Rameses Sixth which, according to the cipher of the Italian Puzza, was our marker in this strange rocky fastness.
What Holmes sought he found close to the entrance to the tomb of the Sixth Rameses. It was a narrow opening in the valley floor a short distance away, shielded by a low mound of rock that concealed it from the passing eye. It was certainly unprepossessing, but there was a stone step, unmistakably, and below it another. Holmes ignited one of the torches Gray had brought, descended a short distance, and then turned back towards the three of us with a strange look on his face.
'Sixteen steps downward I make it, right through solid rock. Now we shall learn what it is the Chinaman found.'
He turned again towards the tomb, and we eagerly followed in his footsteps.
The sunken stairway descended steeply, I estimated at a forty-five-degree angle. At the bottom there had been a doorway, that was evident, but it had been removed, and the torchlight revealed a passageway that slanted downward without steps.
We pressed down the passage and progressed about thirty feet when we found ourselves face to face with a door of stone blocks festooned by seals that, as Gray explained, were proof that the tomb had not been violated by plunderers. This remark promoted amazement within Holmes.
'Do you say that this doorway has not been opened?'
Colonel Gray shrugged. 'I'm no Egyptologist, sir, but from the seals and the way the stones fit, I would think that it has been this way for thousands of years.'
In the light of the torches, it was obvious that the sleuth was thinking intently.
'He came this far and no further. Not one unplundered tomb has been found in all of Egypt, and the Chinaman
