He saw the Indian pause, turn about and look back toward the mountain.
Again the thrilling signals for help went echoing over the plains.

In a few seconds the sounds had reached Mukoki's ears and the old warrior came swinging back at running speed.
Rod darted along the ridge to meet him, firing a single shot now and then to let him know where he was, and in fifteen minutes Mukoki came panting up the mountain.
"The Woongas!" shouted Rod.

"They've attacked the camp! See!" He pointed to the cloud of smoke.

"I heard shots--I heard shots--" For an instant the grim pathfinder gazed in the direction of the burning camp, and then without a word he started at terrific speed down the mountain.
The half-hour race that followed was one of the most exciting experiences of Rod's life.

How he kept up with Mukoki was more than he ever could explain afterward.