"_Fire_!" cried the Master.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
BARA MIYAN, HIGH PRIEST
The crash of six machine-guns clattered into a chattering tumult,
muzzles pointed high over the heads of the Jannati Shahr men. Up into
the still, hot air jetted vicious spurts of flame.
The Legion's answer lasted but a minute. As the trays of blanks became
empty, the tumult ceased.
Silence fell, strangely heavy after all that uproar. This silence
lengthened impressively, with the massed horsemen on one side, the
Legionaries on the other. Between them stretched a clear green space
of turf. Behind loomed the vast bulk of _Nissr_, scarred, battle-worn,
but powerful. Away in the distance, the glinting golden walls
shimmered across the plain; and over all the Arabian sun glowed down
as if a-wonder at this scene surpassing strange.
Forward stepped the Master, with a word to Leclair to follow him but
to stand a little in the rear. The old Sheik dismounted; and followed
by another graybeard, likewise advanced. When the distance was but
about eight feet between them, both halted. Silence continued, broken
only by the dull drone of one engine still running on board the ship,
by the creaking of saddle-leather, the whinny of a barb.
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