d by a roof. Parallel to that was a great shed
with closed sides, and through its half-open door I could smell hay--a
very good smell, sahib, warming to the heart. To our right,
across what might be called a yard--thus--were many low sheds, and
in one there were horses feeding; in others I could see Turkish
soldiers sprawling on the straw, but they took no notice of us.
Three of the low sheds were empty, and Ranjoor Singh pointed to
them.

"Let all except twenty men," said he, "go and rest in those sheds.
If any one asks questions, say only 'Allah!' So they will think you
are Muhammadans. If that should not seem sufficient, say 'Wassmuss!'
But unless questioned many times, say nothing! As you value your
lives, say nothing more than those two words to any one at all!
Rather be thought fools than be hanged before breakfast!"

So all but twenty of the men went and lay down on straw in the three
empty sheds, and I took the twenty and followed him into the great
shed with closed sides. Therein, besides many other things, we
beheld great baskets filled with loaves of bread,--not very good
bread, nor at all fresh, but staff of life itself to hungry men. He
bade the men count out four loaves for each and every one of us, and
then at last, he gave me a little information.

"The Germans in Stamboul," he said, "talked too loud of this place
in my hearing." I stood gnawing a loaf already, and I urged him to
take one, but he would eat nothing until all the men should have
been fed. "They detrain Dervish troops at this point," said he, "and
march them to the shore to be shipped to Gallipoli, because they
riot and make trouble if kept in barracks in Skutari or Stamboul.
This bread was intended for two train-loads of them."

"Then the Dervishes will riot after all!" said I, and he laughed--a
thing he does seldom.

"The sooner the better!" said he. "A riot might cover up our tracks
even better than this rain."

"Is there no officer in charge here?" I asked him,

"Aye, a Turkish officer," said he. "I heard the Germans complain
about his inefficiency. A day or two later and we might have found a
German in his place. He mistakes us for friends. What else could we
be?" And he laughed again.

"But the telegraph wire?" said I.

"Is down," he said, "both between here and Skutari, and between here
and Inismid. God sent this storm to favor us, and we will praise God
by making use of it."

"Where is Tugendheim?" said I, but it was s