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They were not alone,
having two companions who at the moment were being run down by my
horse, whose mouth was open and snapping at anything within range.
The two I'd hit with my heels went rolling down the hill, and my
steed's progress was impeded by the men in his path. Then my feet hit
the ground again as my Arabian rose on his hind legs to stamp at
those unfortunates before him. Nothing could shake my grip on
the saddle since I felt it was my last link with sanity in a world
gone mad. My body slid sideways and I was hanging by the pommel with
my legs on the steed's vertically inclined rump. Then the Arabian's
front legs came down and there was a cry of anguish from those
beneath his devastating hooves, but the beast's impact with the
ground snapped me forward and of a sudden I was back in the saddle,
and my mount and I were plunging down the hillside towards the
rear of the rocks that had been the snipers' lair. But there was no
answering fire or men to shoot at or run down. Streaming from the
rocks and down the incline was a band of turbaned rascals whose hands
were raised or who were industriously throwing away their guns as
they rushed towards the wall of bayonets that had come forth to
intercept them. Casting frenzied looks over their shoulders,
they made a dash for the Scottish soldiers as though their only hope
of salvation was behind the thin red line.

By this time, lurching
in my saddle like an inebriated man, I managed to slow down my mount,
and Mahoot was beside me to seize the bridle. He peppered the air
with a flow of Arabic liberally interspersed with the only word I
could understand, which was "Allah."

Then the sheik was by my
side.

"A memorable
engagement. Your running down those men near the crest rescued us
from a potential crossfire, and the enemy has been captured without
the loss of a man."

No doubt I sputtered
something, but I imagine it was unintelligible.

"My good Doctor, I
read that you served with the Northumberland Fusiliers, but I
misunderstood your function with that gallant regiment. I thought you
were with the medical corps. An obvious error."

Before I could explain
to the sheik that his original idea had been completely correct,
Holmes had raced up towards us and was assisting me from the
saddle.

"Dear Watson, I
doubt if I shall ever carry firearms again. You
outdid
yourself as a marksman on this night." I could only gaze at him
dumbly as I fingered portions of my legs in hopes that they were
still intact.

"Right after the
signal of the jackal's howl, we ceased firing, of course, and then
you came over the crest. Their sharpshooter, who had made life
hellish for us with his long-range piece of ordinance, suddenly
straightened up on the top of the rock that was his lair and looked
backwards. Then I heard the bark of your Webley. You caught him right
on, Watson, and he went tumbling from his perch. The others of your
group were just appearing as you rode down and dispersed the four men
who had gone back up the hill, for ammunition, no doubt. It was a
chilling sight, with bodies falling right and left before your
onslaught, and you were moving so fast you appeared half-man,
half-beast."

Colonel Gray joined us
during Holmes's words. "It was a combination of things that did
in those beggars for fair," he stated, indicating behind him
where his troops were securing the thoroughly quailed enemy. "Half
of them are shivering and muttering about Anubis and won't even look
back up the hill. After the howl of the jackal and the doctor's
appearance, and most unusual it was, they must have seized on the
thought that 'twas the jackal god of the dead who was descending upon
them. Took all the fight out of them, it did."

In a weary manner I
began to inform the group of their host of misconceptions but was not
allowed to. The results were important, and the execution of little
interest now. It was Holmes, calm and assured as always, who took
charge. The great sleuth had made note of the sheik, and he
acknowledged his presence now. "It has been some time," he
stated laconically.

"Indeed, Mr.
Holmes. I trust Allah has smiled on your efforts during the
interval."

"He smiled tonight.
Your presence was most opportune."

"Doctor Watson, to
whom I owe much, enlisted the aid of my band and myself."

My friend's keen eyes
rested on me for a moment with surprise fighting a twinkle for
supremacy. "I've said on occasion that you do amaze me, ol'
chap, and this is no exception. But now, because of your
triumph, fate has indeed lent us a hand, and we'd best move fast to
take full advantage of it."

As the sheik and Colonel
Gray regarded him intently, I could see my friend's machinelike mind
sorting the pieces and placing them in order for presentation. His
gaze centered on the Colonel.

"These Scottish
troops, but recently from their homeland, have only a vague idea
of where they are, I believe." As the Colonel nodded, a smile of
satisfaction touched Holmes's lips. "We shall keep it that way.
When they return to their regiment and are dispatched to India,
the story is that they had a brief skirmish with rebellious
tribesmen, which was terminated by the arrival of a friendly band of
Arabians. I think that sounds plausible enough."

The sheik contributed
some information. "The men you have captured, they are from
Kurna." He spat expressively on the rock. "The place of the
grave robbers, which is close by to the south and east."

"I see," said
Holmes. Then his attention shifted back to Gray. "Colonel, have
your men keep close watch on the prisoners, for we can't have any
escape."

"My men will gladly
assist," said the sheik with a grim smile. "They have no
love for the thieves of Kurna."

Holmes accepted this.
"Then what is to be seen here shall be viewed by just the four
of us," he said. "If you can secure torches, Colonel, we
have some exploring to do."

It was shortly
thereafter that we left the temporary camp set up by the
Sutherland-Argyle and their unusual allies, the sheik's band. At
Holmes's request, Colonel Gray, who was familiar with the valley, led
us towards the tomb of Rameses Sixth which, according to the cipher
of the Italian Puzza, was our marker in this strange rocky fastness.

What Holmes sought he
found close to the entrance to the tomb of the Sixth Rameses. It was
a narrow opening in the valley floor a short distance away, shielded
by a low mound of rock that concealed it from the passing eye. It was
certainly unprepossessing, but there was a stone step, unmistakably,
and below it another. Holmes ignited one of the torches Gray had
brought, descended a short distance, and then turned back towards the
three of us with a strange look on his face.

"Sixteen steps
downward I make it, right through solid rock. Now we shall learn what
it is the Chinaman found."

He turned again towards
the tomb, and we eagerly followed in his footsteps.

The sunken stairway
descended steeply, I estimated at a forty-five-degree angle. At the
bottom there had been a doorway, that was evident, but it had been
removed, and the torchlight revealed a passageway that slanted
downward without steps.

We pressed down the
passage and progressed about thirty feet when we found ourselves face
to face with a door of stone blocks festooned by seals that, as Gray
explained, were proof that the tomb had not been violated by
plunderers. This remark promoted amazement within Holmes.

"Do you say that
this doorway has not been opened?"

Colonel Gray shrugged.
"I'm no Egyptologist, sir, but from the seals and the way the
stones fit, I would think that it has been this way for thousands of
years."

In the light of the
torches, it was obvious that the sleuth was thinking intently.

"He came this far
and no further. Not one unplundered tomb has been found in all of
Egypt, and the Chinaman got this far and then stopped. I fear that
tears it as far as my theory is concerned."

Holmes was speaking as
though to himself, and it was the sheik who broke in on his thoughts.

"What did you
expect to find?"

"That the Chinaman,
for obviously this archeological treasure was uncovered at his
instigation, had opened this crypt untouched throughout the ages and
found one or more of the golden tablets."

The desert chieftain's
bearded face was expressive, and it was plain to see that Holmes's
words struck no responsive chord with him.

"Actually,"
admitted the sleuth, "faced with the cold light of fact, my
theory seems a bit far-fetched. And incorrect, if we are to believe
Colonel Gray here. Therefore, let us backtrack, gentlemen. If Chu San
Fu did not open the tomb, I see no reason why we should, and many
reasons why we should not."

I confess it was with a
sense of disappointment that I followed my friend back up the strange
corridor hewn from solid rock and mounted the sixteen ageless steps
towards the desert night sky. What secrets lay beyond that doorway
that led to the past? Something about that thought had a familiar
ring, but other plans were brewing, and my attention was distracted.

As we stood on the
valley floor at the entrance to one tomb and surrounded by a
multitude of others, Holmes was sunk in thought and seemed
despondent. The sheik expressed a reasonable question, "What
would you have us do?" at the same time that Colonel Gray
inquired, "What now?"

Their simultaneous and
same question drew a half-smile from Holmes and shook him from his
mood of the moment.

"We are holding the
tiger's tail, gentlemen. For the good of the Empire, it would be
better if this tomb had not been found. What I would like to do is
push back time and have it remain undiscovered. At least, until the
present crisis is past."

I was incapable of
following Holmes's reasoning, but the sheik found nothing unusual in
his words.

"It can be done.
Colonel Gray's British troops can seal off the valley using the
excuse of military maneuvers. The Egyptians hired to guard the place
can be pressed into service to refill the passageway and stairs, and
in a short while the entrance will be no more. A simple job in this
place where there has been so much excavation."

"What of the
workers?" I asked, and then regretted it. For expediency I might
better have not touched on the subject.

The sheik's wise smile
served as a reminder that this was another part of the world to me,
with customs and habits that I could never completely understand.

"My men and I will
leave for the south and the campfires of our home. If we take others
with us, it will not be the first time, and their lot will be no
worse than it is now."

His words were
reasonable and reassuring, but I sensed considerable elasticity in
them as regards what would actually happen. However, Holmes did not
seem disposed to inquire further, and I decided not to, either.

Our journey into the
Valley of the Kings had been a bizarre affair, fraught, as it proved,
with danger and complications, but its resolution was simple enough.

The following day,
Holmes and I went with the Scottish soldiers and Gray to the entrance
of the valley and, leaving the Colonel with the men, made our way
back to Luxor. Prior to our departure, the sheik and Holmes had a
private conversation that I would have given much to have been in on.
The connection between the desert chieftain and the great detective
puzzled me no end. Actually, I tried to lead conversations round to
this matter on a number of occasions but got nowhere and
remained ignorant of the situation until '96, when the
reconquest of the Sudan began under Kitchener.

Holmes's mood of
thoughtfulness, induced by the regrouping of facts, was
supplanted by an air of impatience and activity. We wasted no time
returning to the Nile and crossing it, where he made fast tracks for
the Luxor army headquarters to dispatch cables. Then we gathered our
belongings to return to Cairo. Gray was to follow on a later
train.

En route, Holmes
explained that he had persuaded the military to hasten orders for the
Sutherland-Argyles' departure to India, and I could understand
his concern regarding this. He wanted the troopers that had
accompanied us on a transport before they could wander round Luxor
and mention their singular engagement in a strange valley and its
unusual conclusion. That Holmes wished all knowledge of the unknown
tomb suppressed completely was most apparent, though his concern
regarding this eluded me. Through the years he and I had played games
regarding the progress of a case, and I must admit that he kept me on
my toes with his varied moods and moments of loquacity followed by
taciturn periods when he was so sunk in thought that he could barely
summon a "good morning" and at times could not or would not
do that. However, there is a limit to one's patience, and on the
train back to the Egyptian capital, I determined to wrestle some
sense from him regarding recent events and his apparent change of
ideas. Much to my surprise, I found him not averse to discussing the
case.