Talking was thirsty work; the story was well known in all the African army, but the piou-piou, having served in China, was new to the soil.
"The General was ill-pleased when he heard it, and half for arresting Rire-pour-tout; but--sacre!--the thing was done; our honor was involved; he had engaged to fight these men, and engaged for us to let them go in peace afterward; there was no more to be said, unless we had looked like cowards, or traitors, or both.

There was a wide, level plateau in front of our camp, and the hills were at our backs--a fine field for the duello; and, true to time, the Arabs filed on to the plain, and fronted us in a long line, with their standards, and their crescents, and their cymbals and reed-pipes, and kettle-drums, all glittering and sounding.
Sac a papier! There was a show, and we could not fight one of them! We were drawn up in line--Horse, Foot, and Artillery--Rire-pour-tout all alone, some way in advance; mounted, of course.

The General and the Sheik had a conference; then the play began.

There were six Arabs picked out--the flower of the army--all white and scarlet, and in their handsomest bravery, as if they came to an aouda.

They were fine men--diable!--they were fine men.