Rashid was waiting in my cast-off clothes, a new fez of civilian shape upon his head.

He held my stirrup, and then jumped on to a raw-boned beast which had been 'borrowed' for him by his friends, so he informed me.

It might be worth my while to buy it for him, he suggested later--the price was only eight pounds Turk, the merest trifle.

The whole garrison escorted us to the last houses, where they stood a long while, waving their farewells.

Two hours later, on the mountain-ridge, beyond the wady, we turned to look our last on Karameyn.