Cheer, Boys,
Cheer, Our Toils Here Touch Their End!
The End of Time first listened to the small still voice of Caution.
He
whispered anxiously to make no noise lest enemies might arise, that my
other attendants had protectors at Berberah, but that he, the hated and
feared, as the _locum tenens_ of Sharmarkay,--the great _bete noire_,--
depended wholly upon my defence. The Donkey led us slowly and cautiously
round the southern quarter of the sleeping town, through bone heaps and
jackals tearing their unsavoury prey: at last he marched straight into the
quarter appropriated to the Ayyal Gedid our protectors. Anxiously I
inquired if my comrades had left Berberah, and heard with delight that
they awaited me there. It was then 2 A.M. and we had marched at least
forty miles. The Somal, when in fear of forays, drive laden camels over
this distance in about ten hours.
I dismounted at the huts where my comrades were living. A glad welcome, a
dish of rice, and a glass of strong waters--pardon dear L., these details
--made amends for past privations and fatigue. The servants and the
wretched mules were duly provided for, and I fell asleep, conscious of
having performed a feat which, like a certain ride to York, will live in
local annals for many and many a year.
FOOTNOTES
[1] It is an Arab as well as a Somali ceremony to throw a little Kaliyah
or Salul (toasted grain) over the honored traveller when he enters hut or
tent.
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