“Probably our last day of peaceful avocation,” mused Canby, as he applied a lighted taper to the bowl of a long-stemmed pipe, which had been served to him by an Arab attendant.
CHAPTER XXX.
OFF FOR EGYPT.
“The reverend sir tells me that this country of Palestine is only 140 miles long and about 80 miles wide,” said Henri, who had entered the information in his ragged notebook, to which he had clung like grim death from the day he had entered the war zone.
“My Aunt Melissa would tell you,” stated Canby, “that nearly all the events in the accounts of Israel that are recorded in the Old Testament happened within this space. From the days of Abraham to our own times there’s been a mighty lot of history made here.”
“Pity we could not have gone about a little bit more,” remarked Billy, “but warriors and war-planes must get to the front.”
“If it pleases your honor,” slyly intimated Macauley, “Canby and I could walk the rest of the way.”
“I’ve got a picture of you doing it,” retorted the Bangor boy; “the war would be over by the time you got anywhere. You were built for riding, my bold captain.”
“Listen to the wasp,” laughed Canby.
The stillness of evening pervaded the garden, and the four fell into the brooding silence of the hour. The liquid notes of a nightingale contributed to the dreamy effect of the oriental surroundings. With the morning the vision of the Holy Land would fade.
Up betimes, again alert and eager to proceed, the air travelers had once more the kindly greeting of the venerable host, and once more partook of his generous hospitality. At his order the war-planes were wheeled into the open, and followed by a blessing the pilots, fully advised of the route, sent the machines buzzing away to the south, along the Mediterranean coast line.