'A match, do you hear?' I cried, made cross by terror.
He gave the match, and I believe I shouted as I struck it. For a brief space it made a dazzle in my eyes, preventing me from seeing anything, and then went out.
'There is something lying in the path!' Rashîd was gibbering.
I got down off my horse and lit a second match, which I took care to shelter till the flame was strong. A human arm lay in the path before us.
My horror was extreme, and grew uncanny when the match expired. But the ghastly object had restored his courage to Rashîd, who even laughed aloud as he exclaimed:
'The praise to Allah! It is nothing which can hurt us. No doubt some murder has been here committed, all unknown. The Lord have mercy on the owner of that arm! We will report the matter to some high official at our journey's end.'
We turned our horses to the right and made a long detour, but scarcely had they found the path again when mine (which led the way) demurred once more.
'Another piece,' exclaimed Rashîd excitedly. He got down off his horse to look. 'Nay, many pieces. This, by Allah, is no other than a battlefield unknown to fame.'
'How can a battle take place without public knowledge?' I inquired, incredulous.
'The thing may happen when two factions quarrel for unlawful cause—it may be over stolen gains, or for some deadly wrong which cannot be avowed without dishonour—and when each side exterminates the other.'