saying that they had orders not to hurt me, in evidence of which they fired their rifles into the air, and then laid them on the sand.
By this time I could see that our men were bound, and grouped together on the plain; I left my cover, descended the hillock, and advanced to the dervishes, when I was saluted with yells and cries of "El Kaffir, El Kaffir" ("the unbeliever"). One, maybe more fanatical than the rest, after vituperating me, made a motion as if to strike at my head with his sword. Looking him in the eyes, I asked, "Is this the word of honour (meaning quarter) of your Prophet and master; you liar, you son of a dog? strike, unclean thing!" While, as is only to be expected, I was at that moment trembling with fear and excitement, I had lived too long in the East to forget that a bold front and fearless manner command respect, if not fear. My words and manner had the desired effect, for one, turning to my would-be assailant, asked, "What are you doing? Have you forgotten our master's orders?" "This was the second time something had been said about "orders." I put a few questions to my captors, but they declined to reply to them, saying that I could speak to the Emirs Hamza and Farag, and they hurried me towards them. The Emir, whom later I knew to be Farag, asked my name, and what I wanted in his country; then, turning to his followers without waiting for a reply, called out, "This is the Pasha our master Wad en Nejoumi sent us to capture; thanks be to God we have taken him unhurt." The latter remark was
