In a moment a shower of stones struck the dhow, and spurred the water into storm. Frank Muller, the Barghî chief, distinguished himself by the fury of his imprecations and the accuracy of his aim. A smothered groan told me that Ustâni had been hit in the mouth.

    Whid, whad, crash

   went the stones, while Leonora plied the pole with desperate energy, and I erected the patent reversible umbrellas with which we were provided to catch any breath of favourable wind.

   The fierce rapidity of the stream finally carried us out of the reach of the infuriated Barghîz (who, moreover, were providentially slain by lightning—a common enough occurrence in that favoured climate, where nobody thinks anything of it), and we rested, weary and wounded, in a sheltered backwater.

    17

    17

   Are you not gliding insensibly into

    Bess

   ?—

    Publisher.

   No; all right. It is a tremendous country for storms; can't use them too often; adds to the sense of reality.—

    Ed.

   'The dhow's looking rather dowdy,' said Leonora, glancing at the shattered craft.

   'If doughty deeds my lady please,' said I, catching her light tone, 'why, she must take the consequences. But, Leonora,' I added, shuddering, 'I'm sure my feet are damp.'

   If there is one thing I dread it is damp feet.

   'No wonder,' said Leonora, calmly. 'The dhow has sprung a leek.'

   I searched the dhow everywhere, but could find no trace of the vegetable.

   Meanwhile the water had risen above the capstan, and Ustâni, shivering audibly, had perched himself on the bowsprit.

 Prev. P 20/57 next