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From: | Beatrice Robinson |
Subject: | [iiwusynth-devel] footnote roughhouse |
Date: | Sun, 17 Sep 2006 09:02:22 -0000 |
Wintertons instinct joined him to the weaker and
more sporting side inany choice but fox-hunting.
My bodyguard were near by, so I took my camel and
rode over tohim.
A red-tipped Aide told us that over there was
General Gregory.
Undoubtedly the end, not only of thegreat war, but
of our war, was near.
Heavier work, perhaps, lay to
thesouthward.
At noon we saw Barrows pennon at a stream, where he
was watering hishorses. The blood cameout with his heart beats, throb, throb, throb,
slower and slower. He said he must post sentries in the village to keep thepopulace
in order. With their destruction would end ourpurpose here. God give him mercy; we
will take hisprice.
The enemy had tried to halt and camp at sunset, but
Khalid had shakenthem again into movement.
However his orderswere Deraa, and to Deraa he would
go. Thesetroops, in flocks like slow sheep, looked not worthy of the privilege
ofspace. One nightwas given us to make the Damascenes receive the British Army as
theirallies.
About the soldiers hung the Arabs: gravely-gazing
men from anothersphere.
Our men were too heavy with their great bootyto
catch him.
We raced a third time back along the road insearch
of higher authority. Small pyres of smoke were going up from betweenthe
houses.
Some Indian troopers peered at us and our car and
its ragged driversarmy shorts and tunic. I was very jealous for the Arab honour, in
whoseservice I would go forward at all costs. He shook his rein and moved slowly
after the enemy.
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