during the spring. I was afraid to fire with ball, the place being full of
Bedouins' huts, herds, and dogs, and the vicinity of man made the animals
too wild for small shot. In revenge, I did considerable havoc amongst the
spur-fowl, who proved equally good for sport and the pot, besides knocking
over a number of old crows, whose gall the Arab soldiers wanted for
collyrium. [24] Beyond us lay Warabalay or Hyaenas' hill [25]: we did not
visit it, as all its tenants had been driven away by the migration of the
Nomads.

Returning, we breakfasted in the garden, and rain coming on, we walked out
to enjoy the Oriental luxury of a wetting. Ali Iskandar, an old Arab
mercenary, afforded us infinite amusement: a little opium made him half
crazy, when his sarcastic pleasantries never ceased. We then brought out
the guns, and being joined by the other escort, proceeded to a trial of
skill. The Arabs planted a bone about 200 paces from us,--a long distance
for a people who seldom fire beyond fifty yards;--moreover, the wind blew
the flash strongly in their faces. Some shot two or three dozen times wide
of the mark and were derided accordingly: one man hit the bone; he at once
stopped practice, as the wise in such matters will do, and shook hands
with all the party. He afterwards showed that his success on this occasion
had been accidental; but he was a staunch old sportsman, remarkable, as
the Arab Bedouins generally are, for his skill and perseverance in
stalking. Having no rifle, I remained a spectator. My revolvers excited
abundant attention, though none would be persuaded to touch them. The
largest, which fitted with a stock became an excellent carbine, was at
once named Abu Sittah (the Father of Six) and the Shaytan or Devil: the
pocket pistol became the Malunah or Accursed, and the distance to which it
carried ball made every man wonder. The Arabs had antiquated matchlocks,
mostly worn away to paper thinness at the mouth: as usual they fired with
the right elbow raised to the level of the ear, and the left hand grasping