In the distance their spears and rifles seemed to stick out of them, straight and thin, like needles in knitting.
"How far do you suppose we are from the Nile ?" asked Cochrane.

He rode with his chin on his shoulder and his eyes straining wistfully to the eastern skyline.
"A good fifty miles," Belmont answered.
"Not so much as that," said the Colonel.

"We could not have been moving more than fifteen or sixteen hours, and a camel does not do more than two and a half miles an hour unless it is trotting.

That would only give about forty miles, but still it is, I fear, rather far for a rescue.

I don't know that we are much the better for this postponement.
What have we to hope for?
We may just as well take our gruel." "Never say die!" cried the cheery Irishman.