South of Sheikh Hill—eleven miles south—there was deep water right up to the shore under Kuh-i-Mubarak, and the creek there was deep, winding among sand-hills until it opened out into a "khor" or basin, with the village of Sudab on its edge. Here was the remainder of the camels. The two creeks—the shallow one to the north and the deep one to the south—were connected up at the back of the sand-hills and behind the two villages by a channel some thirty yards broad, but so shallow that only at high water could even the native boats use it. Behind all, some eleven miles inland, the Persian mountains towered up, and passes between them led to the desert table-lands behind. "The track to Baluchistan and the north-west frontier of India lies across those table-lands," Mr. Fisher said, making a groove with his finger nail. "I want you to patrol from one creek to another, examining every dhow which comes along. I hope you will have luck. Remember that if a ’shamel’ blows, the dhows will probably be driven south and make for the deep creek at the base of Mubarak. "Gun-running has been very brisk lately. A caravan of rifles actually passed last month within sight of the old town of Jask, on its way to the Indian frontier." Then he told me more about this trade: how the restless tribes on the north-west frontier of India will give almost any price for a military rifle; that they live by brigandage, looting peaceful villages on the British side of the frontier, or, when not so employed, fighting among themselves. They cannot get rifles from India except by creeping up to a British picket—natives or white men—shooting or stabbing, and stealing rifles in that way; so the Arabs ship them across the Gulf, and take them up on camels through the Baluchistan deserts. So many rifles are now captured by our cruisers, gunboats, and steam-launches that the demand is always greater than the supply; and as, directly they have been run safely into Baluchistan, rifles which originally cost three pounds are worth thirty to thirty-five each, the temptation to deal in arms is enormous. "But who sells the Arabs these rifles?" I asked. The business was quite a mystery to me. The political agent shrugged his shoulders. "You’d better not ask. We both of us have to obey orders, and neither of us had better ask questions. Get away as soon as you like. The _Intrepid_ is coming from Aden in a week’s time, and will meet you off the coast, but I want you there as soon as possible." "I’ll go back at once," I said eagerly. He nodded approvingly, and took me to wish the ladies good-bye. "Do be careful," his wife said earnestly. "It was terrible about poor Mr. Collingwood and his gunner; everyone was so upset." "I nearly waved to you when you passed the _Bunder Abbas_ this morning," I told Miss Borsen, "but was afraid you’d think me forward—think me like that fussy major." She laughed merrily.