"But, Allah! Just now there
are more important things to do! Yusuf the Red, I name you watcher
here until moonrise. Then waken Melec, who already sleeps there!"
His eyes touched in passing the big Christian. "Oh yes, you would be a
good watcher," thought Zeyn. "But there's a folly in this caravan!
Wait till good fortune has a steadier foot!"
But good fortune continued a wavering, evanishing thing. Deep in the
night, from behind a stiffened wave of earth, rose and dashed a
mounted band of Bedouin robbers. Yusuf the Red and other watchers had
and gave some warning. Zeyn al-Din's voice was presently heard like a
trumpet. The caravan repelled the robbers. But five of its number were
lost, some camels and mules driven off. The Bedouins departing with
wild cries, there were left confusion and bewailing, slowly
straightening, slowly sinking. The caravan, with a pang, recognized
that ill luck was a traveler with it.
The dead received burial; the wounded were looked to, at last hoisted,
groaning, upon the camels, among the merchandise. Unrested, bemoaning
loss, the trading company made their morning start three hours behind
the set time. For stars in the sky, there was the yellow light and the
sun at a bound, strewing heat. In the melee the robbers had thrust
lance or knife into several of the water-skins.
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