Those In Peril Part 11

'This is where I die,' he thought, 'and I don't even have a rifle. Life is a b.a.s.t.a.r.d.' He stopped and lowered Cayla to the ground. He was reeling on his feet. The sound of the dogs was closer, louder. He still had his pistol on his belt.

'I cannot let them take Cayla. I cannot let her fall into their clutches again. At the very end I will share the pistol with her, a bullet for each of us.' It was the hardest and saddest decision of his life. It numbed his mind so when he heard men shouting his name he could not understand what they were saying. All he could hear were the dogs. In the desert noise carries a long way In the desert noise carries a long way, he rea.s.sured himself, they are not as close as they sound they are not as close as they sound.

'We have reached the ravine, Hector.' Tariq was shouting at him, and at last the words penetrated his exhaustion and his sadness. 'Come on, Hector. You have made it. The lip of the ravine is only twenty metres ahead. Come on, my friend!' Hector was past logical thought. His brain told him that he was finished and he could not go on. But he picked Cayla up in his arms and he ran. He only stopped when the earth disappeared from under his feet and he fell, sliding and rolling down the first steep pitch of the ravine. He was laughing and Cayla sat up beside him. She was powdered with dust and her elbow and one cheek were grazed. She stared at him in astonishment, and then she started to giggle.

'You should see a doctor, Heck. You're crazy, man. I mean, you're bouncing off the walls crazy. But on you craziness looks good.' Still laughing, Hector used the wall of the ravine to drag himself upright.

'Tariq!' he yelled. 'We cannot let the dogs catch us here. We have to get to the north side of this canyon where Hans can reach us for the pick-up. Get your lads together.' Then he turned to Cayla. 'Come on, Cay. Not far to go now.'

'You make me feel that anything is possible. I am on my own two feet from here on.' She set off down the slope. She stumbled and almost fell, but then steadied herself and kept going. Hector caught up with her and with a hand on her shoulder steered her, slipping and sliding, down the slope.

'You'll do!' he said to encourage her. 'You've got good genes, Cay Bannock.' Tariq came slithering down the slope behind them, staying on his feet like a downhill racer. His men followed him. When he reached Hector's side he handed him his rifle and pack.

'You dropped these, Hector.'

'Careless of me.' Hector slung them on his back, and led them down into the gut of the ravine. They reached the bottom and faced the northern wall. Cayla was panting so that she could not talk but he could not allow her to rest. He grabbed her hand and dragged her up the far side of the ravine. It was steep and heavy going but at last they staggered over the rim onto level ground. He stared back at the far side of the ravine. First light was breaking from the east. There was no glimpse of the enemy, but he could hear the clamour of the dog pack very clearly.

'Tariq, we have to find a place to make a stand until the helicopter comes.' He looked ahead with a soldier's eye, and picked the spot. 'Do you see that rocky outcrop, there on the left? That looks like a good spot. Come along, Cay.' They ran into the rocks. Hector's instinct had been right. This was a place where they would have a small advantage. There was good killing ground back to the lip of the ravine which the dogs and Uthmann would have to cross to come at them, but it was scattered with large boulders. He knew the dogs were trained to hunt men. They would work in a pack. But they would be broken up as they wove through the obstacles, and they would not be able to rush the men in a single concerted charge. Hector ordered Cayla to crawl in under the shelter of the largest rock and to sit with her back against the stone wall. He set down his pack beside her, and handed her the pistol.

'Can you shoot?' Cayla nodded. Stupid question, Cross, he smiled to himself. She is Henry and Hazel Bannock's daughter. Of course she can shoot. 'There is a bullet up the spout. No safety catch. I don't ask much of you. Just kill those b.l.o.o.d.y animals if they come at you.' He went to take his position beside Tariq. They both looked up at the sky. Full dawn was on its way.

'I have left a man on the lip of the ravine.' Tariq pointed ahead. The man squatted behind a boulder on the skyline. 'He will warn us when the dogs come into sight.'

'Good. Sunrise in ten minutes or so,' said Hector. 'Hans should arrive about the same time. We have only to hold them off until the helicopter gets to us.' They waited and the light strengthened. Then the lookout shouted in Arabic, 'Dogs coming. Many dogs.' He left his position and bolted back towards them.

'Did you see any men following?' Hector shouted.

'No, just the dogs. Many, many dogs.' The man took his place with them. The hunting chorus of the dog pack changed its intensity, becoming a ferocious baying.

Uthmann was at the wheel of the big Mercedes truck. Adam was on the bench seat beside him, and Sheikh Khan sat on the raised hunting seat behind them. He had one of his bodyguards on each side of him to steady him and prevent him from being thrown about violently as the truck bounded and crashed through the darkness over the broken ground. Four other armed men were crowded into the open truck bed in the rear. Uthmann was driving fast. They had long ago lost sight of the pack of hounds, but he followed their hunting chorus.

'They are heading for the northern wadi. How did they know about that?' Adam yelled above the roaring truck engine. 'Did you tell them, Uthmann?'

'No, but one of Cross's men knows this district well. He has family here,' Uthmann replied.

'If they reach it we will not be able to follow them through. We will have to go around. That is a detour of over fifty miles. They will get clear away,' the old Sheikh lamented. 'You cannot allow that to happen, my grandson.'

'They have a helicopter flying in to pick them up,' Uthmann told him.

'Are you sure of that?'

'I was sitting in on their planning sessions, indeed I am sure, Great Sheikh.' Now the dogs were so far ahead that before they could be certain they were still on the right track Uthmann had to stop the truck and switch off the engine and listen for them. Then he restarted the engine, and they tore on into the darkness.

'How will the helicopter find them?' Adam insisted.

'They will call it in on their satellite phone, and lay down flares to mark their exact position.' Suddenly Uthmann hit the brakes and the truck skidded to a halt. Adam's head cracked against the folded-down windscreen and the men standing in the truck bed were hurled overboard.

'Why did you do that?' Adam shouted angrily, holding the tail of his headscarf to the wound in his forehead to stem the bleeding. 'You nearly killed us all.' In answer Uthmann pointed ahead.

'We have reached the southern wall of the wadi. Another few metres and we would have crashed over the edge and all been killed.' Uthmann jumped out of the driver's seat and ran to the lip of the precipitous drop. He stood for a minute listening, then ran back to the truck. 'The dogs are still on the scent. I can hear them clearly now. We have to leave the truck here and follow them on foot.' He ran to the men who had been thrown from the truck and kicked their sprawling bodies. One of them was probably dead, his head lolling on its broken neck. Two of the others were out of the game, one with a shattered right elbow and the other with both his legs fractured. The fourth man clambered uncertainly to his feet, but he was dazed and concussed.

'None of these pigs is of any use to me,' Uthmann snarled. He pointed at the men sitting on either side of the Sheikh. 'You two, get down and follow me!'

'No!' Adam shouted back at him. 'They are my grandfather's bodyguards. They stay with him at all times. We cannot leave him here unprotected. There are thirty men from the fortress following us on foot. We can wait for them to arrive before we go on in force.'

'By the time they arrive Cross and the girl will be in the helicopter and out of our reach. If you do not now have the stomach to come with me, then wait here as long as you wish.'

'My grandson is immaculate in courage and honour. He will go with you, and show you the way,' Sheikh Khan intervened. Adam scrambled down to the ground, still clutching the bloodied cloth to his forehead.

'Are you ready for a fight?' Uthmann asked him.

'More ready than you will ever be,' Adam snarled at him and grabbed his rifle from the rack behind the seat.

'You must thank Allah that he gave you a head of stone.' Uthmann laughed at him as he ran to the back of the truck. From the pile of weapons and equipment that had been thrown into confusion by the emergency braking, he selected an RPG of Russian construction and a canvas pouch containing two bombs for the weapon. He slung these on his back and came around the front of the truck. He looked up at Sheikh Khan in the high seat.

'Where will we meet, Lord Khan?' he asked the old man.

'I will take the truck along the rim of the wadi until we find the road that crosses it. Once we have crossed we will turn back this way again and look for you on the far side.' The Sheikh pointed out across the dark expanse of land to the north. 'By that time the sun will be up, and we will be able to search for your tracks or hear the sound of the dogs.'

'When we meet again I shall lay the head of the infidel that killed my father and my uncles at your feet,' Adam told him. 'Now I pray your blessing, Grandfather.'

'You have my blessing, Adam. Go with Allah, and keep this jihad fierce in your heart.'

Adam had to run to catch up with Uthmann before he disappeared down into the ravine. They went down the almost sheer incline, slipping and sliding on shale and loose rocks. Adam steadily lost ground to Uthmann.

'Wait for me.' He panted. His shirt was already soaked with sweat.

'Hurry! The helicopter will already be on its way to pick them up,' Uthmann shouted back at him without stopping. 'The infidel will escape the rightful wrath of Allah and your grandfather.' Adam's legs were turning to b.u.t.ter under him. He slipped and sprawled on his belly. He hauled himself to his feet and stood gasping and coughing in the dust he had raised. Then he started down again, but now he was reeling and staggering. Uthmann reached the bottom and paused for the first time to look back.

Soft piglet! Good only at raping women and slaughtering captives, Uthmann thought but did not let his contempt show.

'You are doing well. Not much further,' he called, but Adam lost his footing again. This time he fell forward and struck the rocky ground heavily. He rolled the last twenty feet to the bottom of the gorge. He tried to regain his feet, but his right ankle was injured and could not support him. He dropped back on his knees.

'Help me!' he cried. Uthmann turned back and hoisted him to his feet. Adam hobbled a few paces and then stopped.

'My ankle! I cannot put my weight on it.'

'You must have sprained it. There is nothing I can do to help you,' Uthmann told him. 'Come on after me at your best speed.' He left Adam and started up the far wall of the wadi.

'You cannot leave me here!' Adam shouted after him, but Uthmann did not look back.

'Listen to the dogs. They have our scent, hot and sweet,' Hector called out. 'Lock and load!'

The breech bolts of the rifles clattered. Six rifles, each with thirty rounds in the magazine. They could lay down an almost solid wall of fire. They had a clear one hundred yards of forward vision. His men were all skilled marksmen. None of the dogs was going to reach them. But if they did they would take the bayonets to them.

'Fix bayonets!' Hector ordered, and the men reached forward and unfolded the bayonets from under the rifle muzzles. 'Tariq! Light the signal flares for the helicopter now!' The flares would burn for twenty minutes, and by that time Hans would certainly arrive and be guided to their position. Each of the men carried a flare in his pack. Tariq shouted the order and they ignited the flares and threw them out. Hector realized too late that he should have made it clear to them that they must throw the flares back, not dead ahead of their position. The dawn breeze was into their faces and it rolled the dense smoke cloud back over them, almost completely blotting out their vision. Before Hector could send a man to move the flares, the dogs came out of the smoke. They were only fifty feet ahead of the line of men when they became visible. They rushed straight in at full run. Too many for Hector to count. Dark wolfish shapes through the smoke, clamouring for blood. They had run hard and froth streamed from their open jaws and splattered over their flanks.

'Shoot!' Hector bellowed. 'Shoot!' He got off only three shots, killing an animal with each bullet. The men on each side of him were firing as fast as he was. Dogs were screaming and going down, but others charged in through the swirling smoke. At Hector's side Tariq was knocked over backwards by the weight of a huge black hound smashing into his chest. Hector spun around and before it could lock its fangs into Tariq's throat he thrust his bayonet full length into the animal's neck. It howled and flopped over with its hind legs kicking. But at that moment another dog crashed into Hector from behind, catching him off balance and sending him sprawling to the ground. The hound was on top of him. The rifle was of no use in this close-quarter melee. Hector dropped it and caught the dog by the throat with his left hand; with his right he reached down for the trench knife on his webbing belt. Before he could bring the knife up two more hounds were on top of him. Snarling and snapping they fought to sink their fangs into him. One got a grip on the shoulder of his flak jacket and, bracing its front legs, it held him pinned down on his back. The third dog clamped his knife arm at the elbow and worried it with powerful shakes of its head. The first animal was still on top of him, its gaping jaws inches from his eyes, frothing saliva blown by its stinking breath into his face. It was twisting and heaving in his grip so violently that he could not hold it off much longer.

A pistol shot went off only a foot from his right ear and the muzzle blast half-deafened him. The dog on top of him loosed its grip and collapsed on top of him with blood squirting from the wound in its head. Two more shots cracked in quick succession and the other dogs that were attacking him fell away. Hector sat up and wiped the animal's blood out of his eyes with his sleeve and spat it from his mouth. As his vision cleared he stared in astonishment at Cayla. She had crawled out of her safe retreat under the rock and now knelt beside him, holding the pistol in a professional double-handed grip with her right arm fully extended, weaving it from side to side as she sought the next target.

'You beauty!' he panted. 'You b.l.o.o.d.y little beauty. You are your mother's daughter, all right!' He s.n.a.t.c.hed up his rifle and sprang to his feet, but the dog fight was almost over. The field was littered with canine corpses and the men were finishing off the few wounded animals that were still milling about in pain and terror. Then he looked up at the horizon and saw less than a mile away the big Russian MIL-26 helicopter skimming over the ridge towards them.

'Here comes Hans.' He burst out laughing. 'It's all over. Steak and a bottle of Richebourg for dinner in Sidi el Razig tonight.' He pulled Cayla to her feet and placed a paternal arm around her shoulders. They watched the big machine racing towards them. Every so often it was hidden by the clouds of smoke from the flares, but each time the breeze blew the smoke aside the helicopter was closer and the sound of its engines was louder. At last it hovered in front of them only fifty feet from the ground and they could see Hans behind the canopy peering down at them. He grinned and saluted them then rotated the helicopter until it was broadside to them. The main hatch in the fuselage was open and two figures stood in the opening. One was the flight engineer but Hector gaped at the other.

'Crazy mad woman!' he whispered. He had ordered her to return to Sidi el Razig after the trip to Jig Jig, but he should have known all along that Hazel Bannock was not very good at taking orders. Giving them, yes, but not taking them.

'Mummy! Mummy!' Cayla screeched wildly. She hopped up and down and waved the pistol above her head. In the hatchway Hazel waved back just as energetically. Hans lowered the MIL-26 to earth and the instant the landing gear touched the ground Hazel jumped down from the hatch, landed neatly and broke into a dead run towards her daughter. Cayla pulled out from Hector's protective arm and stumbled unsteadily to meet her mother.

'Now that's what I call a fine sight!' said Hector with a smile as he watched the two women race into each other's arms, shrieking and weeping with joy. He felt the tears sting his own eyes, and he shook his head.

'Bawling like a baby. You're getting soft, Cross.' Hazel looked at him over Cayla's shoulder as she hugged her daughter. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and dripping from her chin. She made no effort to wipe them away. She didn't have to say anything, the way she looked at him was eloquence enough.

'And I love you too, Hazel Bannock!' he shouted for the entire world to hear. Then he forced his mind back to the business in hand, and he waved Daliyah and the men of his stick forward to board the helicopter. They jumped up and charged in a bunch across the open ground.

'Hazel! Get Cayla on board.' He started towards the women. Hazel heard him and grabbed Cayla by the wrist and started dragging her towards the machine. Then another voice rang out in a tone that cut through Hector's exultant joy like a slash from a sabre.

'On the rim of the ravine, Hector!' It was Tariq. He was pointing beyond the helicopter, and Hector's gaze swivelled in that direction. There was a man there, and though he was almost two hundred yards away and only his head was showing above the lip of the ravine, Hector recognized him instantly.

'Uthmann Waddah!' The shock stalled his mind. Tariq did not have a clear shot at his former comrade from where he stood. The men of his stick and the two running women blocked him. Only Hector was in position to deal with the traitor. But for a few vital fractions of a second he was paralysed. Any other person than Uthmann, any other time and his reaction would have been instantaneous, but Hazel and Cayla had usurped all his attention. He moved at last, but it was as though he were trying to swim through a bath of clinging honey. He watched Uthmann jump out of the ravine, run forward three paces and drop to one knee. He saw him lift a long metal tube and place it across his right shoulder.

'RPG!' Even at this distance Hector knew exactly what it was. The rocket-propelled grenade, the insurgent's weapon of choice, could pop open the armour of a battle tank as though it were a cheap condom. Uthmann was taking a steady and deliberate aim at the helicopter.

By now Hector had his Beretta a.s.sault rifle to his shoulder. Subconsciously he noted that Uthmann was still wearing his flak jacket. It was Bannock issue and top of the range, made of Kevlar with ceramic plate inserts. At this range Hector's light 5.56mm NATO bullet had a notoriously poor performance against this grade of body armour. Originally designed to shoot squirrels and prairie dogs, not men, the bullet would probably tumble on impact and not penetrate flesh, but it would be enough to knock Uthmann flat. He fired and he knew his aim was true. The instant before Hector fired Uthmann let fly with the RPG.

Hector saw the blast of blow-back from the rocket billow out behind Uthmann, and the smoke trail of the grenade as it lanced towards the MIL-26. Before it reached the target Uthmann was spun around as Hector's bullet exploded against the front panel of his flak jacket and he was hurled to the rocky ground with brutal force. Before Uthmann hit the ground the grenade struck the front of the helicopter and exploded. Hector staggered as the blast wave blew over him, but he kept his feet. Just short of the big machine, Hazel and Cayla were knocked down in a heap together. Daliyah and the men with her were closer to the explosion. They all went down and Hector knew that some of them had probably been seriously wounded or even killed. The flight engineer standing in the hatchway was shredded. Hector saw his severed head and one arm spinning in the air.

The nose and front section of the helicopter's fuselage were torn away. The c.o.c.kpit and its canopy were gone leaving a gaping hole, and there was nothing left that was recognizable as Hans Lategan's body. He had borne the brunt of the explosion. Out of control, the gigantic machine toppled onto its side and the whirling rotors flogged into the hard-baked earth and rocks, twisting themselves into fantastic shapes before the engines stalled and a heavy pall of dust and smoke hung over the wreckage.

For a moment there was silence. Then Tariq yelled, 'Uthmann is up. Shoot him, Hector. In Allah's name, shoot him again!' By now Hector's vision was partially obscured by the smoke and dust, but he fired at the hazy figure stumbling back towards the lip of the ravine. Hector was not certain if he had hit him or if Uthmann had simply fallen over the edge. Tariq sprinted after him.

'Come back, Tariq!' Hector yelled at him, 'Leave him! His men are probably following close behind him. We have to get out of here. See to the others. See to Daliyah.' Tariq turned back, and Hector ran out to where Hazel and Cayla were lying. He was desperate with fear and concern for both of them. They had been well inside the danger zone, and could very easily have been hit by grenade shrapnel or flying slivers of metal from the fuselage. He dropped to his knees beside them. Hazel was on top of Cayla spreading her arms over her daughter to protect her. Afraid that he would see blood on them, Hector reached down and touched Hazel's hand. She rolled her head to look up at him with a dazed expression and then sat up quickly and reached for him with both arms.

'Hector!' She kissed him with an open mouth, then both of them turned their full attention back to Cayla. Between them they lifted her to her feet.

'Are you hurt, baby?' Hazel demanded anxiously.

'No, Mummy. Don't worry about me, I'm just fine.'

'That's great news,' Hector said, 'because we have to move immediately. Hazel, this daughter of yours is weak as a new-born, but fiery as Tabasco. She just does not give up. I will send someone to help you keep her on her feet.' He ran to where Daliyah and the others were rea.s.sembling. Some of them had been hit by flying fragments from the explosion, but though they had cuts and bruises none of them was unable to go on. Daliyah seemed untouched.

'The girl needs your help,' Hector told her and she hurried to Hazel and Cayla. He turned to his men and ordered, 'Get your gear sorted out, we will be moving out right now.'

'Which direction are we heading in, Hector?' Tariq asked.

'Back across the ravine.' They all stared at him in astonishment, and quickly he went on to explain, 'If we keep heading east we will find very little except desert and more b.l.o.o.d.y desert. Now that they have lost their dogs the enemy won't know for sure which route we have taken; but they'll probably expect us to keep heading east towards the coast.' He turned and pointed back the way they had come. 'However, the main north-south highway pa.s.ses close to the Oasis of the Miracle and the fortress. Isn't that correct, Tariq?'

'That's right, it runs about ten miles west of the fortress. A lot of traffic uses it,' Tariq confirmed.

'If we can get there, we will commandeer the first likely truck or bus that comes along.' The men began to perk up immediately. The downing of the helicopter had left them numbed with despair, but Hector had given them a plan and with it a glimmer of hope. Within minutes they were ready to move out.

They made up an odd little caravan; the three women of different ages and colours, and six men in ripped and bloodied camouflage. All of them coated with dirt and dust. Hector took the point and Tariq brought up the rear, with two of the men to help him sweep the tracks left by the column. Cayla was in the centre of the line with her mother on one side of her and Daliyah on the other to support her. They filed over the lip of the ravine and began the long climb down to the bottom. By the time they began to climb the far wall most of them were close to exhaustion, and the pace slowed inexorably. Hector moved up and down the line, jollying them along, trying to keep them moving with false a.s.surances and bawdy humour that Hazel and Cayla were fortunate not to understand. Those men who had been injured by the explosion of the RPG bomb were now suffering badly and Cayla's legs were once again beginning to give out on her. Hector carried her piggyback up the last steep pitch to the top of the wadi. As the others reached the top they threw themselves down in what little shade they could find, and lay panting like dogs. The water bottles were almost dry.

Hector sat with Hazel and Cayla and made them share the last few mouthfuls that were left in his bottle. He gave Cayla another antibiotic tablet to swallow. He was sure the medication was having a beneficial effect. She had a better colour and her spirit was stronger. He touched her forehead and judged that her temperature was close to normal.

'Show me your tongue!' he ordered.

'With the greatest pleasure.' She tried to look c.o.c.ky and stuck it out at him as far as it would go. The white fur on it was dissipating. He leaned closer and smelled her breath. It no longer reeked of the infection.

'Put it back,' he said. 'You don't want to leave that thing lying around for people to trip over.' Cayla stretched out on her back and closed her eyes. Hazel sighed and leaned against Hector's shoulder. He caressed her sweat-soaked hair lightly, sweeping it back from her eyes as he murmured encouragement and endearments.

They were so engrossed with each other that they were unaware that Cayla was watching them through her lashes, until she opened her eyes wide and asked, 'So, we have changed our minds about firing Heck, haven't we, Mummy?'

Hazel looked startled for a moment, then sat up straight upright and without looking at Hector she blushed scarlet. Hector watched her with delight.

G.o.d, I love it when she does that, he thought.

'It's okay, Mummy. I was already puzzling how I could get you two guys together. Seems I didn't have to worry so much.'

'All right, ladies, on your feet! It's time to move out.'

Hector gave Hazel a chance to recover her poise and stood up. He looked ahead. In the early morning sunlight the desert was endowed with an austere splendour. There was not the faintest touch of green, but the sand sparkled like a trove of diamonds when the sun caught the grains of silica in it; the rocky hillocks were as majestic as Rodin sculptures. He could feel the heat rising. He had given the last of his water to the women. His mouth was dry, and when he touched his lips they were rough as sandpaper. He had pa.s.sed many years of his life in desert places, so as he led them on he was looking for the signs of surface water as a.s.siduously as he was searching out hidden enemies. Soon they were all struggling as dehydration began eroding their last reserves of strength, and he had to let them rest again. He had picked up a couple of quartz pebbles and now he gave Hazel and Cayla one each.

'Suck it!' he instructed. 'It will help keep your mouth from drying out completely. Breathe through your nose and speak only if necessary. You have to save body fluids.' He looked from them to the men. One was huddled with an agonized expression, fighting cramp. The rest of them did not look as if they would be much good in a fight. A small cloud pa.s.sed over the brilliance of the sun, and the relief was immediate if temporary. He glanced up and saw birds, dark against the grey cloud. There were five of them, large and swift on quick wingbeats. He stood up and shaded his eyes. The women were both watching him.

'What have you seen?' Cayla demanded.

'Columba guinea to the ornithologist,' he replied, 'but to you and me they are plain old rock pigeons.' to the ornithologist,' he replied, 'but to you and me they are plain old rock pigeons.'

'Oh!' Cayla did not try to hide her disappointment. 'I cannot tell you just how non-fascinating that is, Heck.' The flock of pigeons began to drop and as they wheeled in the sunlight they appeared a lovely shade of blue with wine-coloured necks, and white rims around their eyes.

'When they flock up like that at this time of day they are heading for water.'

'Water?' the two women asked together.

'When they descend like that they have found it,' he said. 'Isn't that just so non-fascinating, Cay?'

'Sometimes you make me feel like a r.e.t.a.r.d,' she replied contritely.

'Rest a.s.sured, Cay, you act like one only on occasion. On your feet, ladies, let's go take a look-see.' He had marked the spot where the flock had gone on to settle a quarter of a mile ahead. As they approached it the geological features became clearer. There was another smaller wadi across their track, an offshoot of the main gorge. It cut through several strata of rock formations. The band of water-bearing limestone showed clearly, overlain by bright orange schist. Suddenly the pigeon flock rose from the wadi wall on clattering wings. They had been hidden in a horizontal fissure formed by the erosion of the softer limestone under the impervious rimrock.

'Jackpot!' cried Hector with a smile as he led them to the foot of the wadi wall. While they collapsed thankfully in its shade he scaled it until he reached the fissure beneath the limestone layer. When he peered into the dark opening he could smell the water. The cleft was just wide enough for him to crawl into on his belly and elbows. The water lay in a shallow puddle far back in the low cave. He scooped a cupped handful and tasted it.

's.h.i.t!' he said. 'Literally! Pigeon s.h.i.t! But what doesn't kill you makes you fat.' He shouted down to Tariq to bring up the water bottles. He strained the water through his shirt, and despite the foul taste they drank the bottles dry and Hector filled them again. At last all of them had quenched their thirst and Hector filled the bottles for the third time. When he descended the wall he looked the little group over. The change was almost magical. The men were smiling and chatting quietly. Hazel was sitting behind her daughter, humming softly as she combed and braided her hair.