The Brahoes did not even spare the women their mantles, nor the men their trousers, nor did they allow a single head of cattle to escape them. At about three miles further on we came to another village of the same name. It too had been plundered, and was now deserted. Beyond this our path crossed a bare desert surface on which were the traces of a flood of waters. The plain itself cut the horizon, and resembled a great sea glimmering in the vapours of the mirage. As we were crossing this desolate tract our attention was drawn to a crowd of gigantic figures moving against the southern horizon. Our companion Pír Ján stopped his camel and begged us to rein up. He looked very grave, said the appearance was suspicious, marauding Brahoes were known to be about, and that was just the direction in which the rebel Mingals might be looked for. He parleyed a while with his horsemen, then scrutinised the figures, then he parleyed again, and again scrutinised them, and so on for eight or ten minutes, himself and his men all the while capping their muskets, slinging their swords, and tightly securing their turbans in readiness for attack. Meanwhile the figures kept changing their positions and forms in the vapoury glare of the mirage. They were in turn pronounced to be horsemen, then camels at graze, then footmen, and finally cattle at graze. In this uncertainty Pír Ján directed one of his horsemen to gallop forward and solve the mystery. He did not, however, seem to see the advisability of the proposal, and whilst professing ready acquiescence, merely pranced his horse about within close reach of our party. By this time the figures emerged from the mirage, and we counted eight horsemen and two camels, making straight towards us. Pír Ján now sent forward three of his horsemen at a gallop towards them, and they in turn sent a like number to confront them. Our three then reined up, and so did the others, at about five hundred yards apart. Then a single cavalier from each side advanced, they approached together, stood a few moments, and then both galloped off to the party who had so alarmed us, and who were at a stand-still like ourselves. Presently the other two of our horsemen galloped off to them. “It’s all well,” exclaimed Pír Ján, with a relieved expression of countenance; “they are not enemies.” A little later our horsemen rejoined us, with the intimation that the authors of our diversion were not Mingals, only Magassis, a friendly tribe of Baloch, on their way to Bágh. So we went on, and the Magassis crossed our track some hundred yards behind us.