"Good Heavens," he muttered, "we ought to have stumbled on something by this time."
Biddy might have answered: "I've done some stumbling, thank you, and thanks to you." But she didn't. Instead, she lifted her head and ears, looked to the left, snorted, and shied. She shied very carefully, however, because she did not know what she might shy into; and Asabri laughed.
There was a glimmering point of light off to the left, and he urged Biddy toward it. He saw presently that it was a fire built against a ruined and unfamiliar tomb.
The fire was cooking something in a kettle. There was a smell of garlic. Three young men sat cross-legged, watching the fire and the kettle. Against the tomb leaned three long guns, very old and dangerous.
"Brigands!" smiled Asabri, and he hailed them:
"Ho there! Wake up! I am a squadron of police attacking you from the rear."
He rode unarmed into their midst and slid unconcernedly from his saddle to the ground.
"Put up your weapons, brothers," he said; "I was joking. It seems that I am in danger, not you."
The young men, upon whom "brigand" was written in no uncertain signs, were very much embarrassed. One of them smiled nervously and showed a great many very white teeth.