The Buried Pyramid Read Online Free PDF Page B

“We’ll get out and head east toward the Nile.”
    No one spoke. No one protested, though the glimpse Neville had of Alphonse’s expression demonstrated more eloquently than any impassioned words that Neville would pay dearly if this proved a false alarm.
    It isn’t, though, Neville thought, and moved his camel forward.
    Camels’ feet are soft and made for traveling across sand. They are quiet, but not noiseless. Equally, though Neville’s band carried no lights and the moon had set, the darkness was not absolute. Starlight is quite enough for eyes accustomed to its glow. Even so, Neville hoped they might get away with it.
    But whoever it was who had raised the jackal’s call in the darkness did not wait for daylight to attack. Perhaps someone noticed that, though the tents kept their places, the grumbling shapes of the camels were no longer picketed at the camp’s fringe. Perhaps the attack had been planned for earlier in any case.
    For whatever reason, before Neville and his band had traveled far from the Hawk Rock, a shrill cry of rage and disappointment pierced the clear desert air. Neville knew that their enemies would seek them to the east—for there was nothing but desert to the west. Speed, then, rather than deception was their only chance.
    He thumped his camel and the creature reluctantly stretched out its limbs in an undulating run. The other camels followed suit without prompting. Indeed, the shrieks from where the Hawk Rock bulked behind them were prompting enough.
    It’s five days back to the Nile, Neville thought despairingly. If they have camels or horses we’re sunk. Maybe we should have fought it out back there.
    But he knew his small group wouldn’t have had a chance. He and Eddie were in training, but Derek was disabled, and Alphonse didn’t even carry a gun. Miriam would also be useless in a fight. Indeed, Neville expected that if he looked back he would see that her camel—and perhaps one of those bearing their supplies—would be gone. What better way for the Bedouin girl to win back her father’s support?
    Thus Neville was surprised out of all proportion when Miriam’s camel drew alongside his own. The girl called out to him.
    “Follow me, Captain Hawthorne. I know a place where, Allah willing, these superstitious dogs will not follow.”
    Neville did not permit Miriam to take the lead; she pressed her camel to the front. The beast—not the water carrier this time—lightly burdened by no other weight than her lithe form, took the lead easily.
    And Neville followed. What else could he do? Miriam was offering some hope, slender though it might be. If her offer proved to be another trap—well, they were already into it up to their necks. Glancing back over his shoulder, he was certain he saw a fair-sized dust cloud occluding the stars and knew that at least some of their pursuers were mounted.
    Miriam led them to an area where the desert was broken and rocky. A rise—nothing like the Hawk Rock but at least higher and more substantial than sand dunes—rose from the surrounding area. When they drew closer, Neville realized that the rock showed signs of having been carved and shaped. He was not surprised when Miriam drew her camel to a halt and announced:
    “It is a necropolis of the old kings. My father and his brothers have come here to rob the dead, but they have never trusted the place. Their fear may slow them long enough for us to make a defense.”
    Neville saw the wisdom in her words. Unlike the box canyon, where they could be surrounded on all sides, here they could claim the high ground. His and Eddie’s rifles were likely to have better range than what the Arabs carried—at least he hoped so. Even Derek and Alphonse might be able to be of some use—and he no longer felt a desire to dismiss Miriam out of hand.
    “Can you use a rifle?” he asked her as they herded the camels within the most sheltered perimeter of rocks. Derek forced the beasts to kneel and efficiently