The strange costumes of the nomads, with the various colors they boast, add to the romantic nature of the exposition, and his must be a poor soul, indeed, that fails to catch something of artistic fervor when such a picture appears in view.
There were twenty of Bab Azoun's men present an hour before, but now only half of that number can be seen.
The remainder have mysteriously disappeared.

Things seem to be working to suit the desperate plans of the veteran Zulu fighter, and he will soon be in a condition to open the engagement.
There will doubtless be a battle.

John is lost in admiration of the genius that could prepare such a scene, such a triumph.

He does not anticipate that even if the Briton is successful in his plans, he will carry the heart of Lady Ruth by storm.
"We must move," whispers Mustapha.
"Why ?" asks John, desiring enlightenment.
"So as to be ready to take a hand in the grand affair," is the reply.
Up to this moment it has not occurred to the young man from Chicago that he may be in a position to profit by this peculiar situation.
He smiles with the idea.
"Mustapha, I leave all in your hands.

Do with me as you please." "Then come." They quit the cleft, using great caution to prevent discovery.