On the Road to Bagdad: A Story of Townshend's Gallant Advance on the TigrisBrereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
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On the Road to Bagdad: A Story of Townshend's Gallant Advance on the Tigris
Brereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction
Taking the opportunity of their enforced stay in the grove of
palm-trees, and of the shade which it afforded them, they slept
alternately, thus making up for their lost rest during the preceding
night; and it was while Geoff was on watch, and Philip lay full length
and sleeping heavily, that our hero saw the shepherd return by the same
route that had taken him away and enter his cottage. Minutes passed, and
though he came out and stretched himself in the sun, evidently awaiting
his midday meal and the return of his wife, not once did he suspect that
anyone had been there in the interval. Indeed, there was nothing to
rouse his suspicions, for all was as he had left it, and the two
subalterns had been careful enough to clean the plates they had used and
return them to their respective positions. The dog, too, much to Geoff's
delight, curled himself up at his master's feet, though at first he had
sniffed round, and had shown some traces of curiosity, if not of
momentary excitement.
As for the woman, there was not a sign of her as yet, though when the
day had dragged on a little, and the afternoon had nearly waned, Geoff
saw her coming along the road from Bagdad, and watched her as she
turned off towards the grove of trees and finally entered the sunlit
arena in which the hut was situated. It was as good as a play then,
though he felt rather sorry for it, to watch the woman's amazement when
she took the steaming pot from the fire, and, having brought two basins
from the cottage and placed them upon a ledge just outside, poured some
water into them from it. He watched as the dame dropped the pot and
lifted her hands in amazement; and smiled grimly, too, as the man got
languidly to his feet, not as yet understanding the situation, and then
finally, when he realized that his midday meal was not forthcoming,
clenched his fists and muttered, and showed his anger. Then bewilderment
took possession of the two of them, and, having asked questions the one
of the other, they stared at the pot as it lay on the sandy ground as if
it were a thing possessed, and even edged away from it.
"But it's a strange thing this thing that has happened," the man
muttered between his teeth. "By Allah, no such thing have I known in the
course of all my journeyings! You say, wife, that you placed some flesh
of a sheep within the pot?"
"Say it?" the woman replied in a shrill, angry, and rather frightened
tone, glaring at her lord and master. "But, as Allah hears me, you
yourself saw me add flesh to the pot ere you went, and after you had
gone I added more. What then is this? Ah! A thief, eh?"
That idea had not occurred to either of them before; but now it seized
upon their imagination instantly, and roused them to a pitch of anger
and excitement.
"A thief! Yes, of course. Why did we not think of that before? Here,
dog, find him."
Geoff bent down and shook the sleeping Philip heartily.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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