At length we heard them in the distance. We could distinctly hear the men’s voices, and we rejoiced that they were approaching the last remaining obstacle; that one ravine passed through, and all before would be easy. I heard the rattling of the stones as they drew nearer, and looking toward the ravine I saw emerge from the dark foliage of the trees within fifty yards of us the hated RED FLAG AND CRESCENT LEADING THE TURK’S PARTY! We were outmarched!
One by one, with scowling looks, the insolent scoundrels filed by us within a few feet, without making the customary salaam, neither noticing us in any way, except by threatening to shoot the Latooka, our guide, who had formerly accompanied them.
Their party consisted of a hundred and forty men armed with guns, while about twice as many Latookas acted as porters, carrying beads, ammunition, and the general effects of the party. It appeared that we were hopelessly beaten.
However, I determined to advance at all hazards on the arrival of my party, and should the Turks incite the Ellyria tribe to attack us, I intended, in the event of a fight, to put the first shot through the leader. To be thus beaten at the last moment was unendurable. Boiling with indignation as the insolent wretches filed past, treating me with the contempt of a dog, I longed for the moment of action, no matter what were the odds against us. At length their leader, Ibrahim, appeared in the rear of the party. He was riding on a donkey, being the last of the line, behind the flag that closed the march.