human
Smoke, my Captain! he exclaimed.
gpt
See, it curls aloft like a lady's ringlet. And--beyond the wady--
human
Ah, you see them, too?
gpt
Captain Alden's.
human
I see them, the Master answered.
gpt
And the green flag--the flag of the Prophet--
human
The flag, _oui, mon capitaine!_ There are many men, but--
gpt
But what, Lieutenant?
human
Ah, do you not see? No horses. No camels. That means their oasis is not far. That means they are not traveling. This is no nomadic moving of the Ahl Bayt. No, no, my Captain. It is--
gpt
Well, what?
human
A war-party. What you in your language call the--the reception committee, _n'est-ce pas?_ Ah, yes, the reception committee.
gpt
And the guests?
human
The guests are all the members of the Flying Legion!
gpt
Ah, sure now, but that's fine! exclaimed the major with delight, his eyes beginning to sparkle in anticipation.
human
The best of news! A little action, eh? I ask nothing better. All I ask is that we live to reach the committee--live to be properly killed! It's this dying-alive that kills _me_! Faith, it tears the nerves clean out of my body!
gpt
That is a true Arab idea, Major, smiled Leclair.
human
To this extent you are brother to the Bedouin. They call a man _fatis_, as a reproach, who dies any other way than fighting. May you never--may none of us--ever suffer the disgrace of being _fatis_!
gpt
There's not much danger of that! put in the Master.
human
That's a big war-party, and we're drifting ashore almost exactly where they're waiting. From the appearance of the group, they look like Beni Harb people--'Sons of Fighting' you know--though I didn't expect we'd sight any of that breed so far to westward.
gpt
Beni Harb, eh? echoed the Frenchman, his face going grim.
human
Ah, _mes amis_, it is with pleasure I see that race, again! He sighted carefully through his glass, as _Nissr_ sagged on and on, ever closer to the waves, ever nearer the hard, sun-roasted shores of Africa.
gpt
Yes, those are Beni Harb men. _Dieu_! May it be Sheik Abd el Rahman's tribe! May I have strength to repay the debt I owe them!
human
What debt, Lieutenant?
gpt
A personal matter, my Captain! A personal debt I owe them--with interest!
human
You will have nearly a score and a half of good fighting men to help you settle your account, smiled the Master. Then, to Bohannan:
gpt
It looks now, Major, as if you'd have a chance to try your sovereign remedy.
human
Faith! Machine-guns, eh?
gpt
Yes, provided we get near enough to use them.
human
No vibrations this time, eh? demanded the Celt, a bit of good-humored malice in his voice.
gpt
Vibrations are all very well in their way, sir, but when it comes to a man-to-man fight--
human
You, sir, and Lieutenant Leclair, get the six gun-crews together at their stations. When we drift in range, give the Beni Harb a few trays of blanks. That may scatter them without any further trouble. We want peace, but if it's got to be war, very well. If they show real fight, rake them hard!