"Truly I am gazing at the sun, noble effendi," said Burnet innocently, fixing his eyes on the officer's round fat face. "My father says my face is the moon, and he wants to see it." He took out the Arabic note, unfolded it, and offered it to the captain, who however pushed it away impatiently.
"Answer my question: what have you done since you left the barber?"
"Eaten and drunk and slept, and suffered many stripes at the hands of one Ibrahim, a driver of camels. It is true I am an ass-head, for he too called me so, and having brought me to the town yonder, he sent me away; and I am even now going to my home in the Beni Lam country to feed the goats. It is all I am fit for."
The captain looked him up and down.
"He is a fool, but his limbs are sound," he said. "He is good enough for the infantry. Take him up behind you again, Hassan. We will see what they make of him in Bagdad."
The squadron moved off at an easy trot. Burnet was alarmed at the turn things had taken. He had little doubt that Firouz Ali would find some means of preventing his enlistment in the army; but the delay would prevent his meeting with Captain Ellingford at the tell and render it impossible for him to convey his information to headquarters, at any rate for some time to come. Meanwhile the young chief Rejeb's tribe was in danger of annihilation. However, there was no help for it. Bagdad was a long way off, and before they got there he might find a means of escaping.
As they rode along, Burnet listened to the troopers' conversation. They appeared to be a mixed lot, and spoke in a variety of dialects which he found very puzzling. But from words he made out here and there he gathered that the squadron had been on a reconnaissance down the right bank of the Euphrates. The mention of Halil's name now and again seemed to indicate that the expedition had been in some way connected with the impending attack on Rejeb. Whether it had been made in anticipation of that attack, to collect information, or whether the squadron was a part of the force detailed for the actual operations, Burnet was unable to determine. If the raid on Rejeb's people had actually occurred, his chances of finding an open route, should he succeed in crossing the Euphrates, were small indeed. The enemy would almost certainly hold the country through which he must travel, and probably in some strength. But from what he knew of the Turk it seemed unlikely that the expedition had even started yet. General Eisenstein had mentioned a month; there were still some days to spare, and not even the driving force of the German would have the effect of keeping either Turks or Arabs up to time. The month would probably extend to five or six weeks before the organisation of the expedition was sufficiently complete to satisfy Eisenstein, who, like all the German high command, would not move until he felt assured that every possible contingency had been foreseen and provided for.
Burnet cast many a longing glance at the fine Arab ridden by the captain. It trod the sand with the high step and graceful movement of the thoroughbred, and a gallop on its back would have been a sheer joy.
The squadron continued their march for some time after sunset, intending to bivouac at a spot which they had used for the purpose on the way down. It was a mound rising slightly above the marsh which had extended along their right flank the whole of the day. When they halted, the captain gave orders that Burnet should be tied up during the night. He was allowed first to eat a meal of his own dates, washed down with tepid, musty water from the skin he carried. It was an unpleasant night. His feet were hobbled, and his hands being bound, he suffered a good deal from the depredations of mosquitoes which he was unable to brush away. The birds and animals of the marsh kept up a strident chorus. Occasionally a wild boar with his family could be heard crashing through the reeds. It was impossible to sleep except in fitful snatches, and Burnet beguiled the wearisome hours by trying to form some plan of escape. He made several attempts to release his hands, but the trooper who had tied the cords had done his work thoroughly. Until his hands were free the most ingenious scheme for eluding his captors was a mere beating of the air; and he had to confess to himself that even then the chances of getting away from so many well-mounted men were not worth reckoning.
Overcome by weariness, Burnet was at last in a deep sleep when, at the first sign of dawn, the camp was astir. He was wakened, his bonds were loosed, and he was permitted to make a frugal meal again while the troopers saddled up in preparation for starting. Burnet noticed that the squadron had diminished in numbers, and learnt by and by that two or three parties of half a dozen men each had ridden off very early to scout in various directions.