"I do not know how you will fare, woman of the West. I dare not put palanquin on Taffadaln for fear that she might bolt from terror and take you far into the desert, there to die. But arrived at our destination she shall be broken in at once, however, for in all my stables there is no other camel with her sliding step, not one who would not make you feel as though your spine had snapped after one hour's journey upon its back. We Arabs can sit a camel in more than one way, but the easiest for you, and Allah knows it will be hard enough after a time, is, if your skirt permits, to sit astride and put both your feet round the pummel in front. That, anyway, will prevent you from being twisted as you are with the shocking ladies' saddle you use in England." "Oh, but I ride astride," volunteered Jill, as she raised her skirts, settled herself, and taking the gold-studded rein, held firmly to the front and back peak of the saddle as instructed, and awaited the word of command. A camel rises from its front or hind legs just as the fancy seizes it, so that if you do not keep a fair balance, also yourself in complete readiness to lean forward or backward according to your mount's final decision, you will assuredly find yourself ignominiously pitched in a heap over the quadruped's nose, or just as ignominiously hanging head down in the vicinity of its tail, either of which positions will cause her to chortle gleefully before the next lurch, which gets the rest of her feet into order. A final touch is given by the imitation of an infantile earthquake as she arranges you to her taste, and then you may consider yourself ready to start out on a journey which may make you more sea-sick than any rough channel-crossing in boat or aeroplane. CHAPTER XIV It was with a feeling of exultation that Jill, from her elevated seat, looked down into the Arab's face, outlined in the scented dimness of the garden by the snow-white head-cloth, and her brilliant mouth widened in a low laugh of pleasure as she pulled down a bough of fluffy mimosa to sniff its perfume, and she also gave a little shriek of dismay as Taffadaln, taking matters into her own enormous feet, and utterly ignoring the frantic tugging of the silken reins, suddenly stalked off towards the gate. There was a sharp word of command bringing the animal to a standstill, then a throaty exclamation from somewhere in the long neck as she pitted her hereditary obstinacy against the man's will. Five times, with a blatant wink towards her sisters; and a sneer on her hideous mouth, she journeyed towards the gate, and five times was she brought back to the starting-place, to be fastened at last by a strong lead to the bridle of her more submissive sister, who was making disgusting masticatory noises over a tough twig.