o-night,' said Dick.

'A Mulaid?' said a voice, scornfully naming the best baggage-breed that
he knew.

'A Bisharin,' returned Dick, with perfect gravity. 'A Bisharin without
saddle-galls. Therefore no charge of thine, shock-head.'

Two or three minutes passed. Then--'We be knee-haltered for the night.
There is no going out from the camp.'

'Not for money?'

'H'm! Ah! English money?'

Another depressing interval of silence.

'How much?'

'Twenty-five pounds English paid into the hand of the driver at my
journey's end, and as much more into the hand of the camel-sheik here,
to be paid when the driver returns.'

This was royal payment, and the sheik, who knew that he would get his
commission on this deposit, stirred in Dick's behalf.

'For scarcely one night's journey--fifty pounds. Land and wells and
good trees and wives to make a man content for the rest of his days. Who
speaks?' said Dick.

'I,' said a voice. 'I will go--but there is no going from the camp.'

'Fool! I know that a camel can break his knee-halter, and the sentries
do not fire if one goes in chase. Twenty-five pounds and another
twenty-five pounds. But the beast must be a good Bisharin; I will take
no baggage-camel.'

Then the bargaining began, and at the end of half an hour the first
deposit was paid over to the sheik, who talked in low tones to the
driver.

Dick heard the latter say: 'A little way out only. Any baggage-beast
will serve. Am I a fool to waste my cattle for a blind man?'

'And though I cannot see'--Dick lifted his voice a little--'yet I carry
that which has six eyes, and the driver will sit before me. If we do not
reach the English troops in the dawn he will be dead.'

'But where, in God's name, are the troops?'

'Unless thou knowest let another man ride. Dost thou know? Remember it
will be life or death to thee.'

'I know,' said the driver, sullenly. 'Stand back from my beast. I am
going to slip him.'

'Not so swiftly. George, hold the camel's head a moment. I want to feel
his cheek.' The hands wandered over the hide till they found the
branded half-circle that is the mark of the Biharin, the light-built
riding-camel.

'That is well. Cut this one loose. Remember no blessing of God comes on
those who try to cheat the blind.'

The men chuckled by the fires at the camel-driver's discomfiture. He had
intended to substitute a slow, saddle-galled baggage-colt.

'Stand back!' one shouted, lashing the Biharin under t