rpose; for after Tugendheim had let them blaze
away those ten rounds a piece there was less fear than ever of his
daring to attempt escape. Thenceforward his prospects and ours were
one. But my tale goes faster than the column did, that could travel
no faster than the slowest man and the weakest mule.

We were far in among the hills now--little low hills with broad open
spaces between, in which thousands of cattle could have grazed. Only
there were no cattle. I rode, as Ranjoor Singh usually did, twenty
or thirty horses' length away on the right flank, well forward,
where I could see the whole column with one quick turn of the head.
I had ten troopers riding a quarter of a mile in front, and a
rear-guard of ten more, but none riding on the flanks because to our left
the hills were steep and impracticable and to our right I could
generally see for miles, although not always.

We dipped into a hollow, and I thought I heard rifle shots. I urged
my horse uphill, and sent him up a steep place from the top of which
I had a fine view. Then I heard many shots, and looked, and lo a
battle was before my eyes. Not a great battle--really only a
skirmish, although to my excited mind it seemed much more at first.
And the first one I recognized taking his part in it was Ranjoor
Singh.

I could see no infantry at all. About a hundred Turkish cavalry were
being furiously attacked by sixty or seventy mounted men who looked
like Kurds, and who turned out later really to be Kurds. The Kurds
were well mounted, riding recklessly, firing from horseback at full
gallop and wasting great quantities of ammunition.

The shooting must have been extremely bad, for I could see neither
dead bodies nor empty saddles, but nevertheless the Turks appeared
anxious to escape--the more so because Ranjoor Singh with his forty
men was heading them off. As I watched, one of them blew a trumpet
and they all retreated helter-skelter toward us--straight toward us.
There was nothing else they could do, now that they had given way.
It was like the letter Y--thus, sahib,--see, I draw in the dust--the
Kurds coming this way at an angle--Ranjoor Singh and his forty
coming this way--and we advancing toward them all along the bottom
stroke of the Y, with hills around forming an arena. The best the
Turks could do would have been to take the higher ground where we
were and there reform, except for the fact that we had come on the
scene unknown to them. Now that we had