Vilest that ever hammered tent-pegs, goats of El Akhfash! O Beni Harb![1]" [Footnote 1: Beni Harb, or Sons of Battle, by a change in the aspiration of the "H," becomes "Sons of Flight, or Cowardice."] The Master gripped his furious orderly, and pushed him back, down the slope.
"No more of that, Rrisa!" he commanded, fiercely.

"These be old woman's ways, these screamings! Silence, _Bismillah_!" He hailed the others.
"They score, the first round! Their game is to retreat, if they're suspicious of any ruse or any attack from us.

They're not going to stand and fight.

We can't get near enough to them to throw the remaining lethal capsules over.

And we can't chase them into the desert.