TheTurksclearlyexpectedaninfantryattack，fortheyweresendingupcalciumrocketsandVeryflares。TheRussianswerebatteringtheirlineandsprayingallthehinterland，notwithshrapnel，butwithgood，solidhigh—explosives。Theplacewouldbeasbrightasdayforamoment，allsmotheredinascurryofsmokeandsnowanddebris，andthenablackpallwouldfallonit，whenonlythethunderofthegunstoldofthebattle。
　　Peterfeltverysick。Hehadnotbelievedtherecouldbesomuchnoiseintheworld，andthedrumsofhisearsweresplitting。Now，foramantowhomcourageishabitual，thetasteoffear—naked，utterfear—isahorriblething。Itseemstowashawayallhismanhood。Peterlayonthecrest，watchingtheshellsburst，andconfidentthatanymomenthemightbeashatteredremnant。Helayandreasonedwithhimself，callinghimselfeverynamehecouldthinkof，butconsciousthatnothingwouldgetridofthatlumpoficebelowhisheart。
　　Thenhecouldstanditnolonger。Hegotupandranforhislife。
　　Butheranforward。
　　Itwasthecraziestperformance。Hewenthell—for—leatheroverapieceofgroundwhichwasbeingwateredwithH。E。，butbythemercyofheavennothinghithim。Hetooksomefearsometossesinshell—holes，butpartlyerectandpartlyonallfourshedidthefiftyyardsandtumbledintoaTurkishtrenchrightontopofadeadman。
　　Thecontactwiththatbodybroughthimtohissenses。Thatmencoulddieatallseemedacomforting，homelythingafterthatunnaturalpandemonium。Thenextmomentacrumptooktheparapetofthetrenchsomeyardstohisleft，andhewashalfburiedinanavalanche。
　　Hecrawledoutofthat，prettybadlycutaboutthehead。Hewasquitecoolnowandthinkinghardabouthisnextstep。Thereweremenallaroundhim，sullendarkfacesashesawthemwhentheflareswentup。Theyweremanningtheparapetsandwaitingtenselyforsomethingelsethantheshelling。Theypaidnoattentiontohim，forIfancyinthattrenchunitswereprettywellmixedup，andunderabadbombardmentnoonebothersabouthisneighbour。Hefoundhimselffreetomoveashepleased。Thegroundofthetrenchwaslitteredwithemptycartridge—cases，andthereweremanydeadbodies。
　　Thelastshell，asIhavesaid，hadplayedhavocwiththeparapet。
　　InthenextspellofdarknessPetercrawledthroughthegapandtwistedamongsomesnowyhillocks。Hewasnolongerafraidofshells，anymorethanhewasafraidofaveldthunderstorm。ButhewaswonderingveryhardhowheshouldevergettotheRussians。
　　TheTurkswerebehindhimnow，buttherewasthebiggestdangerinfront。
　　Thentheartilleryceased。Itwassosuddenthathethoughthehadgonedeaf，andcouldhardlyrealizetheblessedreliefofit。Thewind，too，seemedtohavefallen，orperhapshewasshelteredbytheleeofthehill。Therewerealotofdeadherealso，andthathecouldn’tunderstand，fortheywerenewdead。HadtheTurksattackedandbeendrivenback？Whenhehadgoneaboutthirtyyardshestoppedtotakehisbearings。Ontherightweretheruinsofalargebuildingsetonfirebytheguns。Therewasablurofwoodsandthedebrisofwallsroundit。Awaytotheleftanotherhillranoutfarthertotheeast，andtheplacehewasinseemedtobeakindofcupbetweenthespurs。justbeforehimwasalittleruinedbuilding，withtheskyseenthroughitsrafters，forthesmoulderingruinontherightgaveacertainlight。HewonderediftheRussianfiring—linelaythere。
　　justthenheheardvoices—smotheredvoices—notayardawayandapparentlybelowtheground。Heinstantlyjumpedtowhatthismustmean。ItwasaTurkishtrench—acommunicationtrench。
　　Peterdidn’tknowmuchaboutmodernwarfare，buthehadreadinthepapers，orheardfromme，enoughtomakehimdrawtherightmoral。Thefreshdeadpointedtothesameconclusion。WhathehadgotthroughweretheTurkishsupporttrenches，nottheirfiring—line。
　　Thatwasstillbeforehim。
　　Hedidn’tdespair，forthereboundfrompanichadmadehimextracourageous。Hecrawledforward，aninchatatime，takingnosortofrisk，andpresentlyfoundhimselflookingattheparadosofatrench。Thenhelayquiettothinkoutthenextstep。
　　Theshellinghadstopped，andtherewasthatqueerkindofpeacewhichfallssometimesontwoarmiesnotaquarterofamiledistant。
　　Petersaidhecouldhearnothingbutthefar—offsighingofthewind。Thereseemedtobenomovementofanykindinthetrenchbeforehim，whichranthroughtheruinedbuilding。Thelightoftheburningwasdying，andhecouldjustmakeoutthemoundofearthayardinfront。Hebegantofeelhungry，andgotouthispacketoffoodandhadaswigatthebrandyflask。Thatcomfortedhim，andhefeltamasterofhisfateagain。Butthenextstepwasnotsoeasy。Hemustfindoutwhatlaybehindthatmoundofearth。
　　Suddenlyacurioussoundfellonhisears。Itwassofaintthatatfirsthedoubtedtheevidenceofhissenses。Thenasthewindfellitcamelouder。Itwasexactlylikesomehollowpieceofmetalbeingstruckbyastick，musicalandoddlyresonant。
　　Heconcludeditwasthewindblowingabranchofatreeagainstanoldboilerintheruinbeforehim。Thetroublewasthattherewasscarcelyenoughwindnowforthatinthisshelteredcup。
　　Butashelistenedhecaughtthenoteagain。Itwasabell，afallenbell，andtheplacebeforehimmusthavebeenachapel。HerememberedthatanArmenianmonasteryhadbeenmarkedonthebigmap，andheguesseditwastheburnedbuildingonhisright。
　　Thethoughtofachapelandabellgavehimthenotionofsomehumanagency。Andthensuddenlythenotionwasconfirmed。Thesoundwasregularandconcerted—dot，dash，dot—dash，dot，dot。
　　Thebranchofatreeandthewindmayplaystrangepranks，buttheydonotproducethelongsandshortsoftheMorseCode。
　　ThiswaswherePeter’sintelligenceworkintheBoerWarhelpedhim。HeknewtheMorse，hecouldreadit，buthecouldmakenothingofthesignalling。Itwaseitherinsomespecialcodeorinastrangelanguage。
　　Helaystillanddidsomecalmthinking。Therewasamaninfrontofhim，aTurkishsoldier，whowasintheenemy’spay。Thereforehecouldfraternizewithhim，fortheywereonthesameside。Buthowwashetoapproachhimwithoutgettingshotintheprocess？Again，howcouldamansendsignalstotheenemyfromafiring—linewithoutbeingdetected？Peterfoundananswerinthestrangeconfigurationoftheground。Hehadnotheardasounduntilhewasafewyardsfromtheplace，andtheywouldbeinaudibletomeninthereservetrenchesandeveninthecommunicationtrenches。Ifsomebodymovingupthelattercaughtthenoise，itwouldbeeasytoexplainitnaturally。Butthewindblowingdownthecupwouldcarryitfarintheenemy’sdirection。
　　Thereremainedtheriskofbeingheardbythoseparallelwiththebellinthefiringtrenches。Peterconcludedthatthattrenchmustbeverythinlyheld，probablyonlybyafewobservers，andthenearestmightbeadozenyardsoff。HehadreadaboutthatbeingtheFrenchfashionunderabigbombardment。
　　Thenextthingwastofindouthowtomakehimselfknowntothisally。Hedecidedthattheonlywaywastosurprisehim。Hemightgetshot，buthetrustedtohisstrengthandagilityagainstamanwhowasalmostcertainlywearied。Whenhehadgothimsafe，explanationsmightfollow。
　　Peterwasnowenjoyinghimselfhugely。Ifonlythoseinfernalgunskeptsilenthewouldplayoutthegameinthesober，decorouswayheloved。Soverydelicatelyhebegantowriggleforwardtowherethesoundwas。
　　Thenightwasnowasblackasinkaroundhim，andveryquiet，too，exceptforsoughingsofthedyinggale。Thesnowhaddriftedalittleintheleeoftheruinedwalls，andPeter’sprogresswasnaturallyveryslow。Hecouldnotaffordtodislodgeoneounceofsnow。Stillthetinklingwenton，nowingreatervolume。Peterwasinterrorlestitshouldceasebeforehe"m.kanbaapp点com"gothisman。
　　Presentlyhishandclutchedatemptyspace。Hewasonthelipofthefronttrench。Thesoundwasnowayardtohisright，andwithinfinitecareheshiftedhisposition。Nowthebellwasjustbelowhim，andhefeltthebigrafterofthewoodworkfromwhichithadfallen。Hefeltsomethingelse—astretchofwirefixedinthegroundwiththefarendhanginginthevoid。Thatwouldbethespy’sexplanationifanyoneheardthesoundandcameseekingthecause。
　　Somewhereinthedarknessbeforehimandbelowwastheman，notayardoff。Peterremainedverystill，studyingthesituation。Hecouldnotsee，buthecouldfeelthepresence，andhewastryingtodecidetherelativepositionofthemanandbellandtheirexactdistancefromhim。Thethingwasnotsoeasyasitlooked，forifhejumpedforwherehebelievedthefigurewas，hemightmissitandgetabulletinthestomach。Amanwhoplayedsoriskyagamewasprobablyhandywithhisfirearms。Besides，ifheshouldhitthebell，hewouldmakeahideousrowandalarmthewholefront。
　　Fatesuddenlygavehimtherightchance。Theunseenfigurestoodupandmovedastep，tillhisbackwasagainsttheparados。
　　HeactuallybrushedagainstPeter’selbow，whoheldhisbreath。
　　ThereisacatchthattheKaffirshavewhichwouldneedseveraldiagramstoexplain。Itispartlyaneckhold，andpartlyaparalysingbackwardtwistoftherightarm，butifitispractisedonamanfrombehind，itlockshimassureasifhewerehandcuffed。Peterslowlygothisbodyraisedandhiskneesdrawnunderhim，andreachedforhisprey。
　　Hegothim。Aheadwaspulledbackwardovertheedgeofthetrench，andhefeltintheairthemotionoftheleftarmpawingfeeblybutunabletoreachbehind。
　　’Bestill，’whisperedPeterinGerman;’Imeanyounoharm。Wearefriendsofthesamepurpose。DoyouspeakGerman？’
　　’_Nein，’saidamuffledvoice。
　　’English？’
　　’Yes，’saidthevoice。
　　’ThankGod，’saidPeter。’Thenwecanunderstandeachother。
　　I’vewatchedyournotionofsignalling，andaverygoodoneitis。
　　I’vegottogetthroughtotheRussianlinessomehowbeforemorning，andIwantyoutohelpme。I’mEnglish—akindofEnglish，sowe’reonthesameside。IfIletgoyourneck，willyoubegoodandtalkreasonably？’
　　Thevoiceassented。Peterletgo，andinthesameinstantslippedtotheside。Themanwheeledroundandflungoutanarmbutgrippedvacancy。
　　’Steady，friend，’saidPeter;’youmustn’tplaytrickswithmeorI’llbeangry。’
　　’Whoareyou？Whosentyou？’askedthepuzzledvoice。
　　Peterhadahappythought。’TheCompanionsoftheRosyHours，’
　　hesaid。
　　’Thenarewefriendsindeed，’saidthevoice。’Comeoutofthedarkness，friend，andIwilldoyounoharm。IamagoodTurk，andIfoughtbesidetheEnglishinKordofanandlearnedtheirtongue。I
　　liveonlytoseetheruinofEnver，whohasbeggaredmyfamilyandslainmytwinbrother。ThereforeIservethe_Muscov_ghiaours。’
　　’Idon’tknowwhattheMuskyjawsare，butifyoumeantheRussiansI’mwithyou。I’vegotnewsforthemwhichwillmakeEnvergreen。Thequestionis，howI’mtogettothem，andthatiswhereyoushallhelpme，myfriend。’
　　’How？’
　　’Byplayingthatlittletuneofyoursagain。Tellthemtoexpectwithinthenexthalf—houradeserterwithanimportantmessage。
　　Tellthem，forGod’ssake，nottofireatanybodytillthey’vemadecertainitisn’tme。’
　　Themantookthebluntendofhisbayonetandsquattedbesidethebell。Thefirststrokebroughtoutaclear，searchingnotewhichfloateddownthevalley。Hestruckthreenotesatslowintervals。
　　Foralltheworld，Petersaid，hewaslikeatelegraphoperatorcallingupastation。
　　’SendthemessageinEnglish，’saidPeter。
　　’Theymaynotunderstandit，’saidtheman。
　　’Thensenditanywayyoulike。Itrustyou，forwearebrothers。’
　　Aftertenminutesthemanceasedandlistened。Fromfarawaycamethesoundofatrench—gong，thekindofthingtheyusedontheWesternFronttogivethegas—alarm。
　　’Theysaytheywillbeready，’hesaid。’Icannottakedownmessagesinthedarkness，buttheyhavegivenmethesignalwhichmeans"Consent"。’
　　’Come，thatisprettygood，’saidPeter。’AndnowImustbemoving。Youtakeahintfromme。Whenyouhearbigfiringuptothenorthgetreadytobeataquickretreat，foritwillbeallupwiththatcityofyours。Andtellyourfolk，too，thatthey’remakingabadmistakelettingthosefoolGermansruletheirland。LetthemhangEnverandhislittlefriends，andwe’llbehappyoncemore。’
　　’MaySatanreceivehissoul！’saidtheTurk。’Thereiswirebeforeus，butIwillshowyouawaythrough。Thegunsthiseveningmademanyrentsinit。Buthaste，foraworkingpartymaybeherepresentlytorepairit。Rememberthereismuchwirebeforetheotherlines。’
　　Peter，withcertaindirections，founditprettyeasytomakehiswaythroughtheentanglement。Therewasonebitwhichscrapedaholeinhisback，butverysoonhehadcometothelastpostsandfoundhimselfinopencountry。Theplace，hesaid，wasagraveyardoftheunburieddeadthatsmelthorriblyashecrawledamongthem。Hehadnoinducementstodelay，forhethoughthecouldhearbehindhimthemovementoftheTurkishworkingparty，andwasinterrorthataflaremightrevealhimandavolleyaccompanyhisretreat。
　　Fromoneshell—holetoanotherhewormedhisway，tillhestruckanoldruinouscommunicationtrenchwhichledintherightdirection。
　　TheTurksmusthavebeenforcedbackinthepastweek，andtheRussianswerenowintheevacuatedtrenches。Thethingwashalffullofwater，butitgavePeterafeelingofsafety，foritenabledhimtogethisheadbelowtheleveloftheground。Thenitcametoanendandhefoundbeforehimaforestofwire。
　　TheTurkinhissignalhadmentionedhalfanhour，butPeterthoughtitwasnearertwohoursbeforehegotthroughthatnoxiousentanglement。Shellinghadmadelittledifferencetoit。Theuprightswereallthere，andthebarbedstrandsseemedtotouchtheground。
　　Remember，hehadnowire—cutter;nothingbuthisbarehands。
　　Onceagainfeargotholdofhim。Hefeltcaughtinanet，withmonstrousvultureswaitingtopounceonhimfromabove。Atanymomentaflaremightgoupandadozenriflesfindtheirmark。Hehadaltogetherforgottenaboutthemessagewhichhadbeensent，fornomessagecoulddissuadetheever—presentdeathhefeltaroundhim。Itwas，hesaid，likefollowinganoldlionintobushwhentherewasbutonenarrowwayin，andnoroadout。
　　Thegunsbeganagain—theTurkishgunsfrombehindtheridge—andashelltoreupthewireashortwaybeforehim。Undercoverofthebursthemadegoodafewyards，leavinglargeportionsofhisclothinginthestrands。Then，quitesuddenly，whenhopehadalmostdiedinhisheart，hefeltthegroundrisesteeply。Helayverystill，astar—rocketfromtheTurkishsidelituptheplace，andthereinfrontwasarampartwiththepointsofbayonetsshowingbeyondit。ItwastheRussianhourforstand—to。
　　Heraisedhiscrampedlimbsfromthegroundandshouted’Friend！English！’
　　Afacelookeddownathim，andthenthedarknessagaindescended。
　　’Friend，’hesaidhoarsely。’English。’
　　Heheardspeechbehindtheparapet。Anelectrictorchwasflashedonhimforasecond。Avoicespoke，afriendlyvoice，andthesoundofitseemedtobetellinghimtocomeover。
　　Hewasnowstandingup，andashegothishandsontheparapetheseemedtofeelbayonetsverynearhim。Butthevoicethatspokewaskindly，sowithaheavehescrambledoverandfloppedintothetrench。Oncemoretheelectrictorchwasflashed，andrevealedtotheeyesoftheonlookersanindescribablydirty，lean，middle—agedmanwithabloodyhead，andscarcelyaragofshirtonhisback。
　　Thesaidman，seeingfriendlyfacesaroundhim，grinnedcheerfully。
　　’Thatwasaroughtrek，friends，’hesaid;’Iwanttoseeyourgeneralprettyquick，forI’vegotapresentforhim。’
　　Hewastakentoanofficerinadug—out，whoaddressedhiminFrench，whichhedidnotunderstand。ButthesightofStumm’splanworkedwonders。Afterthathewasfairlybundleddowncommunicationtrenchesandthenoverswampyfieldstoafarmamongtrees。Therehefoundstaffofficers，wholookedathimandlookedathismap，andthenputhimonahorseandhurriedhimeastwards。Atlasthecametoabigruinedhouse，andwastakenintoaroomwhichseemedtobefullofmapsandgenerals。
　　TheconclusionmustbetoldinPeter’swords。
　　’Therewasabigmansittingatatabledrinkingcoffee，andwhenI
　　sawhimmyheartjumpedoutofmyskin。ForitwasthemanI
　　huntedwithonthePungwein’98—himwhomtheKaffirscalled"Buck’sHorn"，becauseofhislongcurledmoustaches。Hewasaprinceeventhen，andnowheisaverygreatgeneral。WhenIsawhim，Iranforwardandgrippedhishandandcried，"__Hoegathet，_Mynheer？"andheknewmeandshoutedinDutch，"Damn，ifitisn’toldPeterPienaar！"Thenhegavemecoffeeandhamandgoodbread，andhelookedatmymap。
　　’"Whatisthis？"hecried，growingredintheface。
　　’"Itisthestaff—mapofoneStumm，aGerman_skellumwhocommandsinyoncity，"Isaid。
　　’Helookedatitcloseandreadthemarkings，andthenhereadtheotherpaperwhichyougaveme，Dick。Andthenheflunguphisarmsandlaughed。Hetookaloafandtosseditintotheairsothatitfellontheheadofanothergeneral。Hespoketothemintheirowntongue，andthey，too，laughed，andoneortworanoutasifonsomeerrand。Ihaveneverseensuchmerrymaking。Theywereclevermen，andknewtheworthofwhatyougaveme。
　　’Thenhegottohisfeetandhuggedme，alldirtyasIwas，andkissedmeonbothcheeks。
　　’"BeforeGod，Peter，"hesaid，"you’rethemightiesthuntersinceNimrod。You’veoftenfoundmegame，butnevergamesobigasthis！"’
　　CHAPTERTWENTY—ONE
　　TheLittleHillItwasawisemanwhosaidthatthebiggestkindofcouragewastobeabletositstill。IusedtofeelthatwhenweweregettingshelledinthereservetrenchesoutsideVermelles。IfeltitbeforewewentovertheparapetsatLoos，butIneverfeltitsomuchasonthelasttwodaysinthatcellar。Ihadsimplytosetmyteethandtakeapullonmyself。PeterhadgoneonacrazyerrandwhichIscarcelybelievedcouldcomeoff。TherewerenosignsofSandy;somewherewithinahundredyardshewasfightinghisownbattles，andIwastormentedbythethoughtthathemightgetjumpyagainandwreckeverything。AstrangeCompanionbroughtusfood，amanwhospokeonlyTurkishandcouldtellusnothing;Hussin，Ijudged，wasbusyaboutthehorses。IfIcouldonlyhavedonesomethingtohelponmattersIcouldhavescotchedmyanxiety，buttherewasnothingtobedone，nothingbutwaitandbrood。ItellyouIbegantosympathizewiththegeneralbehindthelinesinabattle，thefellowwhomakestheplanwhichothersexecute。Leadingachargecanbenothinglikesonerve—shakingabusinessassittinginaneasy—chairandwaitingonthenewsofit。
　　Itwasbittercold，andwespentmostofthedaywrappedinourgreatcoatsandburieddeepinthestraw。Blenkironwasamarvel。
　　TherewasnolightforhimtoplayPatienceby，buthenevercomplained。Hesleptalotofthetime，andwhenhewasawaketalkedascheerilyasifhewerestartingoutonaholiday。Hehadonegreatcomfort，hisdyspepsiawasgone。HesanghymnsconstantlytothebenignProvidencethathadsquaredhisduodenum。
　　Myonlyoccupationwastolistenfortheguns。ThefirstdayafterPeterlefttheywereveryquietonthefrontnearestus，butinthelateeveningtheystartedaterrificracket。Thenextdaytheyneverstoppedfromdawntodusk，sothatitremindedmeofthattremendousforty—eighthoursbeforeLoos。ItriedtoreadintothissomeproofthatPeterhadgotthrough，butitwouldnotwork。Itlookedmoreliketheopposite，forthisdesperatehammeringmustmeanthatthefrontalassaultwasstilltheRussiangame。
　　TwoorthreetimesIclimbedonthehousetopforfreshair。
　　Thedaywasfoggyanddamp，andIcouldseeverylittleofthecountryside。TransportwasstillbumpingsouthwardalongtheroadtothePalantuken，andtheslowwagon—loadsofwoundedreturning。
　　OnethingInoticed，however;therewasaperpetualcomingandgoingbetweenthehouseandthecity。Motorsandmountedmessengerswereconstantlyarrivinganddeparting，andIconcludedthatHildavonEinemwasgettingreadyforherpartinthedefenceofErzerum。
　　TheseascentswereallonthefirstdayafterPeter’sgoing。Thesecondday，whenItriedthetrap，Ifounditclosedandheavilyweighted。Thismusthavebeendonebyourfriends，andveryright，too。Ifthehousewerebecomingaplaceofpublicresort，itwouldneverdoformetobejourneyingroof—ward。
　　LateonthesecondnightHussinreappeared。Itwasaftersupper，whenBlenkironhadgonepeacefullytosleepandIwasbeginningtocountthehourstillthemorning。Icouldnotcloseaneyeduringthesedaysandnotmuchatnight。
　　Hussindidnotlightalantern。Iheardhiskeyinthelock，andthenhislightstepclosetowherewelay。
　　’Areyouasleep？’hesaid，andwhenIansweredhesatdownbesideme。
　　’Thehorsesarefound，’hesaid，’andtheMasterbidsmetellyouthatwestartinthemorningthreehoursbeforedawn。’
　　Itwaswelcomenews。’Tellmewhatishappening，’Ibegged;’wehavebeenlyinginthistombforthreedaysandheardnothing。’
　　’Thegunsarebusy，’hesaid。’TheAllemanscometothisplaceeveryhour，Iknownotforwhat。Alsotherehasbeenagreatsearchforyou。Thesearchershavebeenhere，buttheyweresentawayempty……Sleep，mylord，forthereiswildworkbeforeus。’
　　Ididnotsleepmuch，forIwasstrungtoohighwithexpectation，andIenviedBlenkironhisnoweupepticslumbers。ButforanhourorsoIdroppedoff，andmyoldnightmarecameback。OnceagainI
　　wasinthethroatofapass，hotlypursued，strainingforsomesanctuarywhichIknewImustreach。ButIwasnolongeralone。
　　Otherswerewithme:howmanyIcouldnottell，forwhenItriedtoseetheirfacestheydissolvedinmist。Deepsnowwasunderfoot，agreyskywasoverus，blackpeakswereonallsides，butaheadinthemistofthepasswasthatcurious_castrolwhichIhadfirstseeninmydreamontheErzerumroad。
　　Isawitdistinctineverydetail。Itrosetotheleftoftheroadthroughthepass，aboveahollowwheregreatbouldersstoodoutinthesnow。Itssidesweresteep，sothatthesnowhadslippedoffinpatches，leavingstretchesofglisteningblackshale。The_kranzatthetopdidnotrisesheer，butslopedatanangleofforty—five，andontheverysummitthereseemedahollow，asiftheearthwithintherock—rimhadbeenbeatenbyweatherintoacup。
　　ThatisoftenthewaywithaSouthAfrican_castrol，andIknewitwassowiththis。Wewerestrainingforit，butthesnowcloggedus，andourenemieswereveryclosebehind。
　　ThenIwasawakenedbyafigureatmyside。’Getready，mylord，’itsaid;’itisthehourtoride。’
　　Likesleep—walkerswemovedintothesharpair。Hussinledusoutofanoldposternandthenthroughaplacelikeanorchardtotheshelterofsometallevergreentrees。Therehorsesstood，champingquietlyfromtheirnosebags。’Good，’Ithought;’afeedofoatsbeforeabigeffort。’
　　Therewereninebeastsfornineriders。Wemountedwithoutawordandfiledthroughagroveoftreestowhereabrokenpalingmarkedthebeginningofcultivatedland。ThereforthematteroftwentyminutesHussinchosetoguideusthroughdeep，cloggingsnow。Hewantedtoavoidanysoundtillwewerewellbeyondearshotofthehouse。Thenwestruckaby—pathwhichpresentlymergedinahardhighway，running，asIjudged，south—westbywest。Therewedelayednolonger，butgallopedfuriouslyintothedark。
　　Ihadgotbackallmyexhilaration。IndeedIwasintoxicatedwiththemovement，andcouldhavelaughedoutloudandsung。Undertheblackcanopyofthenightperilsareeitherforgottenorterriblyalive。Minewereforgotten。ThedarknessIgallopedintoledmetofreedomandfriends。Yes，andsuccess，whichIhadnotdaredtohopeandscarcelyeventodreamof。
　　Hussinrodefirst，withmeathisside。IturnedmyheadandsawBlenkironbehindme，evidentlymortallyunhappyaboutthepacewesetandthemounthesat。Heusedtosaythathorse—exercisewasgoodforhisliver，butitwasagentleambleandashortgallopthatheliked，andnotthismadhelter—skelter。Histhighsweretooroundtofitasaddleleather。Wepassedafireinahollow，thebivouacofsomeTurkishunit，andallthehorsesshiedviolently。IknewbyBlenkiron’soathsthathehadlosthisstirrupsandwassittingonhishorse’sneck。
　　Besidehimrodeatallfigureswathedtotheeyesinwrappings，andwearingroundhisnecksomekindofshawlwhoseendsfloatedbehindhim。Sandy，ofcourse，hadnoEuropeanulster，foritwasmonthssincehehadwornproperclothes。Iwantedtospeaktohim，butsomehowIdidnotdare。Hisstillnessforbademe。Hewasawonderfulfinehorseman，withhisfirmEnglishhuntingseat，anditwasaswell，forhepaidnoattentiontohisbeast。Hisheadwasstillfullofunquietthoughts。
　　Thentheairaroundmebegantosmellacridandraw，andIsawthatafogwaswindingupfromthehollows。
　　’Here’sthedevil’sownluck，’IcriedtoHussin。’Canyouguideusinamist？’
　　’Idonotknow。’Heshookhishead。’Ihadcountedonseeingtheshapeofthehills。’
　　’We’veamapandcompass，anyhow。Butthesemakeslowtravelling。
　　PrayGoditlifts！’
　　Presentlytheblackvapourchangedtogrey，andthedaybroke。
　　Itwaslittlecomfort。Thefogrolledinwavestothehorses’ears，andridingattheheadofthepartyIcouldbutdimlyseethenextrank。
　　’Itistimetoleavetheroad，’saidHussin，’orwemaymeetinquisitivefolk。’
　　Westrucktotheleft，overgroundwhichwasforalltheworldlikeaScotchmoor。Therewerepoolsofrainonit，andmassesoftangledsnow—ladenjunipers，andlongreefsofwetslatystone。Itwasbadgoing，andthefogmadeithopelesstosteeragoodcourse。
　　Ihadoutthemapandthecompass，andtriedtofixourroutesoastoroundtheflankofaspurofthemountainswhichseparatedusfromthevalleywewereaimingat。
　　’There’sastreamaheadofus，’IsaidtoHussin。’Isitfordable？’
　　’Itisonlyatrickle，’hesaid，coughing。’ThisaccursedmistisfromEblis。’ButIknewlongbeforewereacheditthatitwasnotrickle。Itwasahillstreamcomingdowninspate，and，asIsoonguessed，inadeepravine。Presentlywewereatitsedge，onelongwhirlofyeastyfallsandbrownrapids。WecouldassoongethorsesoveritastothetopmostcliffsofthePalantuken。
　　Hussinstaredatitinconsternation。’MayAllahforgivemyfolly，forIshouldhaveknown。Wemustreturntothehighwayandfindabridge。Mysorrow，thatIshouldhaveledmylordssoill。’
　　Backoverthatmoorwewentwithmyspiritsbadlydamped。Wehadnonetoolongastart，andHildavonEinemwouldrouseheavenandearthtocatchusup。Hussinwasforcingthepace，forhisanxietywasasgreatasmine。