The wonder of that morning sun and desert could not be put in words.
"Our troubles are merely postponed," the Celt continued, gloomily.
"The damage was done when that infernal destroyer sighted us.

Just how the alarm was given, and what brought the sea-wasp racking her engines up the coast, we can't tell.

But the cat's out of the bag, now, and we've got to look out for an attack at any moment we try to leave this region." "It's obvious my wireless messages about being wrecked at sea won't have much weight now," the Master replied, analytically.

"They would have, though, if that slaving-dhow hadn't put in to investigate us.

I have an idea that those _jallahs_ (slavers) must in some way have let the news out at Bathurst, down in Gambia.