The rush was past, and only stragglers were running the gauntlet of the fierce fire which poured upon them from above.

The last of all, a young Baggara with a black moustache and pointed beard, looked up as he passed and shook his sword in impotent passion at the Egyptian riflemen.

At the same instant a bullet struck his camel, and the creature collapsed, all neck and legs, upon the ground.

The young Arab sprang off its back, and, seizing its nose-ring, he beat it savagely with the flat of his sword to make it stand up.

But the dim, glazing eye told its own tale, and in desert warfare the death of the beast is the death of the rider.