To the chief Bruce said: "The treasure is evidently lost. So, after a

short rest, we shall return to our caravan and depart. We do not wish

to be the cause of trouble between you and your people."

"But, Sahib, they have the gold!"

"The false holy one doubtless gave them that before the explosion."

Bruce laid hold of his arm in a friendly fashion apparently, but in

reality as a warning. "All we want is a slight rest in your house.

After that we shall proceed upon our journey."

The mutineers could offer no reasonable objections to this and

signified that it was all one to them so long as the white people

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departed. They had caused enough damage by their appearance and it

might be that it was through their agency that the promontory was all

but destroyed. The fish would be driven away for weeks. And what

would the fierce gun-runners say when they found out that their stores

had gone up in flame and smoke? Ai, ai! What would they do but beat

them and torture them for permitting any one to enter the cave?

"When these men come," answered the chief, with a dry smile, "I will

deal with them. None of us has entered the cave. They know me for a

man of truth. Perhaps you are right," he added to the mutineer.

"There could not have been a treasure there and escape the sharp eyes

of those Arabs. Go back to your homes. These white people shall be my

guests till they have rested and are ready to depart."

Reluctantly the men dispersed, and from his hiding-place Umballa saw

another of his schemes fall into pieces. There would be no fight, at

least for the present. The men, indeed, had hoped to come to actual

warfare, but they could not force war on their chief without some good

cause. After all, the sooner the white people were out of the way the

better for all concerned.

Did the leader of this open mutiny have ulterior designs upon the

treasure, upon the life of Umballa? Perhaps. At any rate, events so

shaped themselves as to nullify whatever plans he had formed in his

gold-dazzled brain.

The colonel was tractable and fell in with Kathlyn's idea. It would

have been nothing short of foolhardiness openly to have antagonized the

rebellious men.

"You have a plan, Kit, but what is it?"

"I dare not tell you here. You are too excited. But I believe I can

lead you to where Umballa has buried the basket. I feel that Umballa

is watching every move we make. And I dare say he hoped--and even

instigated--this mutiny to end in disaster for us. He is alone. So

much we can rely upon. But if we try to meet him openly we shall lose.

Patience for a little while. There, they are leaving us. They are

grumbling, but I do not believe that means anything serious."