"Halt!" I shouted, trying to make believe I was a British armed
sentry. But the figure ran on, and I began to stride after it. This
led me up and up the ridge over very broken ground. Whoever it was (it
was probably a Turkish sniper, for there were many out night-scouting)
I lost sight and sound of him.

I went climbing steadily up till at last I found myself looking into
darkness. I got down on my hands and knees and peered over the edge of
a ridge of rock. I could see a tiny beam of light away down, and this
beam grew and grew as it slowly moved up and up till it became a great
triangular ray. It swept slowly along the top of what I now saw was a
steep precipice sloping sheer down into blackness below. One step
further and I should have gone hurtling into the sea. For, although I
did not then know it, this was the topmost ridge of the Kapanja Sirt.

The great searchlight came nearer and nearer, and I slid backwards and
lay on my stomach looking over. The nearer it came the lower I moved,
so as to get well off the skyline when the beam reached me. It may
have been a Turkish searchlight. It swept slowly, slowly, till at last
it was turned off and everything was deadly black.

I started off again in another direction, keeping my back to the
ridge, as I reckoned that to be a Turkish searchlight, and, therefore,
our own lines would be somewhere down the ridge. Here, high up, I
could just see a grey streak, which I took to be the bay.

I tried to make for this streak. I scrambled down a very steep stratum
of the mountain-side and landed at last in a little patch of dead
grass and tall dried-up thistles.