Except the little group they made together, and a vulture, a mere speck above them in the blue, no other living creature was in sight.

Something had happened, for the soldier seemed amused, while my poor man was making gestures of despairing protest.

He repeated the loud cry which had disturbed my reverie, then turned his mule and hurried back to meet me.
'My knife!' he bellowed 'My knife!--that grand steel blade which was my honour!--so finely tempered and inlaid!--an heirloom in the family! That miscreant, may Allah cut his life!--I mean the soldier--stole it.
He asked to look at it a minute, seeming to admire.

I gave it, like the innocent I am.

He stuck it in his belt, and asked to see the passport which permitted me to carry weapons.