The Flying Legion by George Allan England
page 187 of 477 (39%)
page 187 of 477 (39%)
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"A mercy-bullet?" "For yourself!" The Master pondered a moment or two, as _Nissr_ drifted on toward the now densely massed Arabs on the beach, then he said: "You seem to know these folk well." "Only too well!" The Master's next words were in the language of the desert: "_Hadratak tet kal'm Arabi?_" (You speak Arabic?) "_Na'am et kal'm!_" affirmed the lieutenant, smiling. And in the same tongue he continued, with fluent ease: "Indeed I do, _Effendi_. Yes, yes, I learned it in Algiers and all the way south as far as the headwaters of the Niger. "Five years I spent among the Arabs, doing air-work, surveying the Sahara, locating oases, mapping what until then were absolutely unknown stretches of territory. I did a bit of bombing, too, in the campaign against Sheik Abd el Rahman, in 1913." "Yes, so I have heard. You almost lost your life, that time?" "Only by the thickness of a _semmah_ seed did I preserve it," answered the Frenchman. "My mechanician, Lebon, and I--we fell among them on |
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