Narayan Singh, rifle in hand, sprang on to Ayisha's little Bishareen, and she jumped into the _shibriyah,_ like a pair doing stunts at the circus.
So far good.

But the rest was amateurish.

We milled badly.

Grim away in front had halted to let the line close, and we swarmed around him like a herd of steers that smell wolves, and nobody seemed to know which way to look, or what to do next.
I was right in the midst of the mess, with a camel on either side trying to get its teeth into me, and what with Grim's shouting to get the tangle straightened, and our all trying to obey at once, it was some minutes before I got the hang of things.

In fact, I think I understood last.
We were already surrounded perfectly on three sides by camel-men who kept out of reasonable rifle-range and stalked us like dark ghosts from the rear.