Bullets sang close to their ears, and one actually chipped the stock of
Dick's rifle, almost unseating him by the force of the blow. But the
Bisharins were excited, and forgot their fatigue for a mile or so, by
which time night fell, and the uncanny darkness soon rendered it quite
impossible to ride at all. They dismounted, and led the camels. Abdur
Kad'r, true son of the desert, pressed forward nimbly, since every yard
gained was a yard stolen from the pursuers. After a while they were
able to mount again, but now the jaded camels lagged, and not all the
sheik's prayers or imprecations could force them even into the
regulation pace of two and a half miles an hour.
To make matters worse, a hot breeze sprang up from the south, and
stirred the desert into curling sand-wraiths, which blinded them and
made it hard to detect sounds even close at hand. They were fully
thirty miles distant from the camp, with eight hours of darkness before
them, during which time they could hope to cover only half the march.
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