I said to myself reflectively, "If there is anything that could make a
man deliberately assault a dying cripple, I reckon may be an unexpected
whiff from this pipe would do it." I smoked along till I found I was
beginning to lie, and project murder, and steal my own things out of one
pocket and hide them in another; and then I put up my treasure, took off
my spurs and put them under my horse's tail, and shortly came tearing
through our caravan like a hurricane.

From that time forward, going to Jerusalem, the Dead Sea, and the Jordan,
Bethany, Bethlehem, and everywhere, I loafed contentedly in the rear and
enjoyed my infamous pipe and revelled in imaginary villany. But at the
end of two weeks we turned our faces toward the sea and journeyed over
the Judean hills, and through rocky defiles, and among the scenes that
Samson knew in his youth, and by and by we touched level ground just at
night, and trotted off cheerily over the plain of Sharon. It was
perfectly jolly for three hours, and we whites crowded along together,
close after the chief Arab muleteer (all the pack-animals and the other
Arabs were miles in the rear), and we laughed, and chatted, and argued
hotly about Samson, and whether suicide was a sin or not, since Paul
speaks of Samson distinctly as being saved and in heaven. But by and by
the night air, and the duskiness, and the weariness of eight hours in the
saddle, began to tell, and conversation flagged and finally died out
utterly. The squeak-squeaking of the saddles grew very distinct;
occasionally somebody sighed, or started to hum a tune and gave it up;
now and then a horse sneezed. These things only emphasised the solemnity
and the stillness. Everybody got so listless that for once I and my
dreamer found ourselves in the lead. It was a glad, new sensation, and
I longed to keep the place forevermore. Every little stir in the dingy
cavalcade behind made me nervous. Davis and I were riding side by side,
right after the Arab. About 11 o'clock it had become really chilly, and