man of them sprang to his mount.

"The gold will be safe here," cried one. "We have killed the
Abyssinians and there are no others to carry it away. Let us ride
in search of Achmet Zek!"

And a moment later, amidst a cloud of dust, the raiders were
galloping madly across the plain, and out from the concealment of
the reeds along the river, crept a party of black warriors toward
the spot where the golden ingots of Opar lay piled on the ground.

Werper had still been in advance of Achmet Zek when he reached
the forest; but the latter, better mounted, was gaining upon him.
Riding with the reckless courage of desperation the Belgian urged
his mount to greater speed even within the narrow confines of the
winding, game trail that the beast was following.

Behind him he could hear the voice of Achmet Zek crying to him to
halt; but Werper only dug the spurs deeper into the bleeding sides
of his panting mount. Two hundred yards within the forest a broken
branch lay across the trail. It was a small thing that a horse
might ordinarily take in his natural stride without noticing its
presence; but Werper's horse was jaded, his feet were heavy with
weariness, and as the branch caught between his front legs he
stumbled, was unable to recover himself, and went down, sprawling
in the trail.

Werper, going over his head, rolled a few yards farther on, scrambled
to his feet and ran back. Seizing the reins he tugged to drag the
beast to his feet; but the animal would not or could not rise, and