The Khalifa put his hand on Osman Azrak's shoulder--Osman, who was to lead
the frontal attack at dawn--and whispered, 'What is this strange thing?'
'Sire,' replied Osman, 'they are looking at us.' Thereat a great fear
filled all their minds. The Khalifa had a small tent, which showed
conspicuously in the searchlight. He had it hurriedly pulled down. Some of
the Emirs covered their faces, lest the baleful rays should blind them.
All feared that some terrible projectile would follow in the path of
the light. And then suddenly it passed on--for the sapper who worked the
lens could see nothing at that distance but the brown plain--and swept
along the ranks of the sleeping army, rousing up the startled warriors,
as a wind sweeps over a field of standing corn.
The Anglo-Egyptian army had not formed a quadrilateral camp, as on
other nights, but had lain down to rest in the formation for attack they
had assumed in the afternoon. Every fifty yards behind the thorn-bushes
were double sentries. Every hundred yards a patrol with an officer was
to be met. Fifty yards in rear of this line lay the battalions, the men in
all their ranks, armed and accoutred, but sprawled into every conceivable
attitude which utter weariness could suggest or dictate. The enemy,
twice as strong as the Expeditionary Force, were within five miles.
They had advanced that day with confidence and determination.
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