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A long time seemed to have passed between sleeping and waking.

Throwing his blanket aside, he seized his revolvers. The night was filled with cries as if the camp had been attacked. But the disturbance was caused by the stampeding of the horses; three had broken their tethers and had gone away, (p. 051) after first tumbling into the reeds, over the hills, neighing frantically. As his horse was not one of the three it did not matter; the Arabs would catch their horses or would fail to catch them, and indifferent he stood watching the moon hanging low over the landscape, a badly drawn circle, but admirably soft to look upon, casting a gentle, mysterious light down the lake. The silence was filled with the lake's warble, and the ducks kept awake by the moon chattered as they dozed, a soft cooing chatter like women gossiping; an Arab came from the wood with dry branches; the flames leaped up, showing through the grey woof of the tent; and, listening to the crackling, Owen muttered "Resinous wood.... tamarisk and mastic." He fell asleep soon after, and this time his sleep was longer, though not so deep.... He was watching hawks flying in pursuit of a heron when a measured tramp of hooves awoke him, and hard, guttural voices.