'I wish that we could reach that village,' was my answer; and again we fell to picturing the strange event.
At length we heard the barking of a dog in the far distance, and gave praise to Allah. A half-hour later we saw lights ahead of us. But that did not mean that the village was awake, Rashîd explained to me, for among the people of that country 'to sleep without a light' is to be destitute. A little later, Rashîd hammered at a door, while savage dogs bayed round us, making rushes at his heels.
'Awake, O sons of honour!' was his cry. 'A great calamity!' And, when the door was opened, he detailed the story of an awful fight, in which both parties of belligerents had been exterminated. 'They are torn limb from limb. We saw the relics,' he explained. 'If you have any doubt, question my lord who is out here behind me—a great one of the English, famed for his veracity.'
And I was ready to confirm each word he said.
In a very little while that village was astir.
It was the seat of a mudîr who had two soldiers at his beck and call. The great man was aroused from sleep; he questioned us, and, as the result of the inquiry, sent the soldiers with us to survey the battlefield. A crowd of peasants, armed with quarter-staves and carrying lanterns, came with the party out of curiosity. Our horses having had enough of travel, we went back on foot amid the noisy crowd, who questioned us incessantly about the strange event. The murmur of our going filled the wood and echoed from the rocks above. By the time we reached the place where we had seen the human limbs, the dawn was up, to make our lanterns useless.
Rashîd and I were certain of the spot. We came upon it with a thrill of apprehension.
But there was nothing there.
'I seek refuge in Allah!' gasped Rashîd in pious awe. 'I swear by my salvation it was here we saw them. The name of God be round about us! It is devilry.'
Our escort was divided in opinion, some thinking we had been indeed the sport of devils, others that we lied. But someone sniffed and said: