'I swear by my salvation it was here we saw them.

The name of God be round about us! It is devilry.' Our escort was divided in opinion, some thinking we had been indeed the sport of devils, others that we lied.

But someone sniffed and said: 'There is a smell of death.' There was no doubt about the smell at any rate.

Then one of the mudir's two soldiers, searching in the brushwood, cried: 'I have the remnant of an arm.' And then an old man of the village smote his leg and cried: 'O my friends, I see it! Here is neither lies nor devilry.' Laughing, he seized me by the arm and bade me come with him.

We went a little way into the wood, and there he showed me three Druze tombs deep in the shade of ilex trees--small buildings made of stone and mud, like little houses, each with an opening level with the ground, and a much smaller opening, like a window, at the height of a man's elbow.
'Thou seest ?' cried my tutor.