"What do you mean, cousin? There are no forests there; only sand and rocks."
"And how does one get shelter from the sun?" asked the incredulous Aragaris.
"It's a desert! It's as hot there as under a cook's oven, and there's not a drop of water."
"What! No water? And how about beer?"
"They don't even know what beer means!"
"You're lying!"
"May I be struck blind, cousin, if in all Mesopotamia and Syria you find a keg of beer or of honey."
"Then it's all over, brother! If it's hot there, and there's neither water, beer, nor honey, they're simply hunting us to the end of the world like oxen to the slaughter!"
"Hunting you on to the horns of the Devil, cousin!" and Strombix wept yet more bitterly.
At that moment there came a distant rumble, and din of voices. The two friends ran out of the barracks; a crowd of soldiers were rushing over the wooden bridge towards Lutetia. The cries came nearer; wild agitation seized the garrison; the soldiery poured out upon the road in a dense shouting mass, in spite of the orders, threats, and even blows of the centurions.