us if it contained the tongue of the humming-bird.

But Gus, although a failure in always satisfying the epicurean tastes of
the Bedouins, won fame by being the first to bomb Cologne.

VI

"Mid" was a Yank who joined the squadron a few months before its
"bust-up." Mid had been a private in the first American contingent to
arrive in France; but because he was born in Cleveland, Ohio, and knew
that automobiles were manufactured in Detroit, Michigan, he was given a
commission. The Bedouins first met Mid in January, 1918. He had run his
car--Mid was always driving a car--into a snowdrift, and wandered a
couple of miles through a blizzard in search of help. Fortunately for
us, he tumbled into our mess in the midst of a "storm celebration";
i.e., a celebration in honor of a storm which forces birds and all other
inhabitants of the air to seek shelter. Mid was pounced upon, placed in
front of the fire, and given hot rum. A crew of men were sent off to dig
his "benzine buggy" out of the snow and convey it to Mid's station, it
having been decided that Mid should spend the night with the Bedouins.

Mid soon won the hearts of the Bedouins by showing a proper appreciation
for hot rum, and when he prefaced his first remark to the C.O. with
"Say, kid," the Bedouins realized that Mid gave every promise of making
this "storm celebration" unique in Bedouin history, and as far as Mid
was concerned it certainly was.

Mid entered into the spirit of the occasion with Western thoroughness
and learned a lesson in a few hours which it has taken some men years to
learn--that hot rum when taken on a cold and empty stomach must be
treated with respect; in fact, a certain amount of coyness is not out of
place. Mid was soon being supported on a chair while he delivered an
epic on the "soul of a jellyfish"; he was then tossed in the "sacred
blanket" and put through other Bedouin initiations; after which he was
tucked comfortably in Jock's bed, while Jock, bound hand and foot and
rolled in blankets, made horrid Highland remarks from the draughty floor
of the hut.

Dear old Mid, however, bore no ill-will to the Bedouins for what he
might have considered unceremonious treatment of an American officer who
was an honored guest. The next morning with a humble but dignified mien,
Mid apologized for everything that he had done. As a matter of fact, the
only disreputable thing Mid had done while under the influence of an
excess of hot rum on an empty