Rashid was on ahead. Suleyman had been beside me, but had dropped behind in order to perform some operation on his horse's hoof. As I came down the last incline on to the village level I heard angry shouts, and saw a crowd of fellahin on foot mobbing Rashid. Urging my horse, I shouted to him to know what was happening. At once a number of the villagers forsook him and surrounded me, waving their arms about and talking volubly. I had gathered, from their iteration of the one word 'moyeh,' that water was the matter in dispute, even before Rashid succeeded in rejoining me. He said: 'I rode up to the spring which flows beneath that arch, and was letting my horse drink from the stone trough of water, when these maniacs rushed up and dragged my horse away, and made this noise. They say the water in the spring is theirs, and no one else has any right to touch it. I offered to make payment, but they would not hear me. I threatened them with vengeance, but they showed no fear. Is it your Honour's will that I should beat a few of them?' Seeing their numbers, I considered it the wiser plan for us to let them be till their excitement had cooled down, and till Suleyman arrived to help us with advice. Accordingly, I smiled and nodded to the villagers, and rode back up the path a little way, Rashid obeying my example with reluctance, muttering curses on their faith and ancestry. Then we dismounted and lay down in the shadow of some rocks. It wanted still two hours before the sun would set. Suleyman came on us, and dismounted at a call from me. 'What is the noise down there?' he questioned, looking at the village with that coolness, like indifference, habitual to his face when meeting problems of importance. 'They will not let us touch the water--curse their fathers!' growled Rashid. 'Heard anyone the like of such inhospitality? It would but serve them right if we destroyed their houses.' Suleyman screwed up his eyes, the better to survey the crowd of villagers below, who now sat guard around the spring, and murmured carelessly: 'It is evident that thou hast angered them, O son of rashness. We shall do well to wait before approaching them again with our polite request.' Therewith he stretched his length upon the ground, with a luxurious sigh, and would, I think, have gone to sleep, had not Rashid, conceiving himself blamed, thought necessary to relate in full the whole adventure. 'What else could man have done?' he asked defiantly. 'Say in what respect, however trifling, did I act unwisely?' 'By Allah, thou didst nothing wrong, and yet thou mightest have done better, since thy efforts led to failure,' said the sage, benignly. 'Thou art a soldier yet in thought, and thy one method is to threaten. If that avails not, thou art helpless. There are other ways.' 'I offered money,' cried Rashid indignantly. 'Could man do more?' 'What are those other ways? Instruct us, O beloved!' I put in, to save Rashid from feeling lonely under blame for ignorance.