cut against the sunset-colour a violet-black silhouette.

Queer creatures crept across the sands and into the old Turkish
snipers' trenches; long black centipedes, sand-birds--very much
resembling our martin, but with something of the canary in their
colour. Horned beetles, baby tortoises, mice, and green-grey lizards
all left their tiny footprints on the shore.

"If this silver sand was only in England a man could make his
fortune," said Hawk. ("We wept like anything to see--!")

I never saw such white sand before. One had to misquote: "Come unto
these SILVER sands." It glittered white in a great horse-shoe round
the bay, and the bed of the Salt Lake (which is really an overflow
from the sea) was a barren patch of this silver-sand, with here and
there a dead mule or a sniper's body lying out, a little black blot,
the haunt of vultures.

I made some careful drawings of the sand-tracks of the bay; noting
down tracks being a habit with the scout.

In these things Hawk was always interested, and often a great help;
for, in spite of his fifty years and his buccaneerish-habits, he was
at heart a boy--a boy-scout, in fact, and a fine tracker.

One of the most picturesque sights I ever saw was an Indian officer
mounted on a white Arab horse with a long flowing mane, and a tail
which swept in a splendid curve and trailed in the sands. The Hindu
wore a khaki turban, with a long end floating behind. He sat his horse
bolt upright, and rode in the proper military style.