"Go and Ask the Kites, then, At Dat Rasi" So far everything worked out strictly according to plan.

We had hardly finished a hurried meal when the lady Ayisha and her men arrived on mean baggage camels provided by old Rafiki; and they were not in the least pleased with their mounts, for a baggage camel is as different from a beast trained to carry a rider as an up-to-date limousine is from a Chinese one-wheel barrow.

Perched on top of the lady Ayisha's beast was a thing they call a _shibrayah_--a sort of tent with a top like an umbrella, resting on the loads slung to the camel's flanks.

From inside that she was busy abusing everybody.
There was only one good camel with her outfit--a small, blooded looking Bishareen, a shade or two lighter in color than the rest, ridden by a wiry, mean rascal with a very black face.
He seemed anxious not to assert himself, for he kept his mount well away in the shadows, and moved off when any one approached him.
It was growing pitch-dark.

Grim counted noses and gave the order to be off.