"No; what medicine?"
"They call them ether pills. They keep off sleep and strengthen you on the journey."
He laughed. "Sleep!" said he. "Have no fear on that account. Fear is the child of good folk, and will keep sleep from our eyes, and God in his mercy will fortify us." The man was right enough. We rode in a northerly direction. The halfa grass and the mimosa-trees, which in places grew rather close together, prevented the camels from making rapid progress in the darkness. At sunrise we reached Wadi Bishara, a valley extending here to a breadth of about three miles, which is sown in the rainy season with millet by the Jaalin tribes who live along the Nile.
With daylight I was now able to see my guides. Zeki Belal was a young fellow, with his beard still downy; Hamed Ibn Hussein, a man in the prime of life.
"Of what race are you?"
"We are from the Gilif mountains, master; and if God will, you will be satisfied with us."
"How long a start have we got from our enemies? When will they miss you?" the elder one asked me.
"They will look for me after the morning prayer; but before all doubt is over as to my escape, and before the men and the beasts are found with which to pursue me, some time must elapse. We may at least reckon on twelve or fourteen hours' start."
"That is not very much," answered Hamed. "But if the animals are up to their work, we shall have left a good bit of ground behind us."
"Don't you know our animals? Have they not been tried?" I asked.