It was a clear view, every object standing out wet and sharp in the light of morning.
It showed the bridge with horsemen drawn up across it, and it showed, too, cavalry pickets moving along the road.
They saw us at the same instant.

A word was passed down the road, a shrill whistle blew, and the pickets put their horses at the bank and started across the moor.
'Did I not say this mist was from Eblis ?' growled Hussin, as we swung round and galloped back on our tracks.

'These cursed Zaptiehs have seen us, and our road is cut.' I was for trying the stream at all costs, but Hussin pointed out that it would do us no good.

The cavalry beyond the bridge was moving up the other bank.

'There is a path through the hills that I know, but it must be travelled on foot.