I asked the
name of Motee's moke, which he said was his next best one, and found
that it was called Mr. Gladstone! The pair were excellent friends, and
insisted on walking side by side, although Motee did all he could to
keep Mr. Gladstone behind. Disliking this aspect of affairs, I dealt
Motee's mount a couple of sharp cuts with my whip over the quarters,
with the object of inducing him to set the pace. This resulted in such
high kicking on the part of Mr. Gladstone, that Motee nearly fell off,
and the man behind ran up yelling in such an angry tone, that I almost
feared he would chastise me in a similar manner. He cooled down and then
patronisingly told me that when I had grown older and had gained more
experience in riding, I would not be guilty of cruelty to dumb animals.
Having failed in my tactics, and paid for my ride, I resigned all
further activity in the proceedings, and submitted to having the speed
of my mount regulated by the stick from behind. When pursued, Mrs.
Langtry would go off with a rush, pausing at intervals to listen for
footsteps behind, and assure herself that the stick man was well out of
reach. Once she relapsed into a dreamy reverie, and so far forgot
herself as to allow her owner to wake her up with a tremendous whack,
which sent her flying with such force that I was nearly jerked out of
the saddle. Our destination was the First Castle, and I was glad to turn
homewards. Motee did not appear to have enjoyed his share of the joke,
for he looked very angrily at the donkey man as he removed my saddle,
and said: "Dis no good ponies, _Mem Sahib_, plenty _tamasha_."

That evening when I was recounting my adventures at dinner, Count Carlo
Sanminiatelli, who was staying at the same hotel, asked me in French if
I was fond of riding. On hearing my reply, he at once placed at my
disposal nearly three hundred remounts which were to be shipped later on
to Massowah. These horses belonged to the Italian Government, which was
expecting a row with King John of Abyssinia. After that, Motee and I
used to disappear for hours in the desert every day, and we wended our
way back to the hotel, only when the pangs of hunger forced us to do so.
We would try sometimes as many as fifteen animals in a day, and I took
the numbers of those which were nice to ride. In a very short time I
had a list of more than a dozen of the nicest horses, which I intended
to keep for my own hacking. As most of them had been accustomed to t