I cannot say that I was happy in my mind. Rashid made matters worse by dwelling on the risks we ran not only from abandoned men but ghouls and jinnis. The lugubrious call of a hyaena in the distance moved him to remark that ghouls assume that shape at night to murder travellers. They come up close and rub against them like a loving cat; which contact robs the victims of their intellect, and causes them to follow the hyaena to its den, where the ghoul kills them and inters their bodies till the flesh is ripe. He next expressed a fear lest we might come upon some ruin lighted up, and be deceived into supposing it a haunt of men, as had happened to a worthy cousin of his own when on a journey. This individual, whose name was Ali, had been transported in the twinkling of an eye by jinnis, from somewhere in the neighbourhood of Hama to the wilds of Jebel Caf (Mount Caucasus), and had escaped a hideous and painful death only by recollection of the name of God. He told me, too, how he himself, when stationed at Mersin, had met a company of demons, one fine evening in returning from an errand; and other tales which caused my flesh to creep. The groves receded. We were in an open place where only a low kind of brushwood grew, when suddenly my horse shied, gave a fearful snort, and sturdily refused to budge another inch. I let him stand until Rashid came up. He thought to pass me, but his horse refused as mine had done. 'It is no doubt some jinni in the way,' he whispered in a frightened tone; then, calling out: 'Dastur, ya mubarak' (Permission, blessed one!), he tried to urge his horse, which still demurred. So there we were, arrested by some unseen hand; and this became the more unpleasant because a pestilential smell was in the place. 'Better return!' muttered Rashid, with chattering teeth. 'Give me a match!' I said distractedly. 'My box is empty.' 'Better return!' he pleaded. 'A match, do you hear?' I cried, made cross by terror. He gave the match, and I believe I shouted as I struck it. For a brief space it made a dazzle in my eyes, preventing me from seeing anything, and then went out. 'There is something lying in the path!' Rashid was gibbering. I got down off my horse and lit a second match, which I took care to shelter till the flame was strong. A human arm lay in the path before us. My horror was extreme, and grew uncanny when the match expired. But the ghastly object had restored his courage to Rashid, who even laughed aloud as he exclaimed: 'The praise to Allah! It is nothing which can hurt us. No doubt some murder has been here committed, all unknown. The Lord have mercy on the owner of that arm! We will report the matter to some high official at our journey's end.' We turned our horses to the right and made a long detour, but scarcely had they found the path again when mine (which led the way) demurred once more.